Love Me to Death

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Love Me to Death Page 7

by Sharlay


  “Whoa, slow down; we all know what happens when you drink too much alcohol.”

  I smile. “That reminds me; you intentionally made me break a clause in our contract by ordering me a glass of wine.” I point out accusatory.

  “Nope, you can drink it when you’re with me because I can control what comes out of your mouth,” she says with raised eyebrows.

  “Is that right?” I ask mischievously.

  “It is,” she states having no idea that she just challenged me in the worst kind of way.

  “Ok.” I take my fork and the empty glass in my hand and stand up. I clink my fork against the glass. “Hello, could I please have your attention?”

  “What are you doing?” she asks, looking up at me in horror. I ignore her.

  “I just want to make a toast to my beautiful girlfriend,” I say looking down at Neddie. She gives me a look that says you better sit down. I stay standing. “This woman, right here, is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” That is not a lie. I hear a few “oohs” and “ahhs” from the crowd and so I continue. “She came into my life a short while ago.” Two days to be exact. “And I have to say that it has been the best thing that could have happened to me. She irritates me but also makes me laugh. She drags me home, strips me and puts me to bed when I get so drunk that I can hardly walk.” I get a few chuckles at this point. “But best of all she cooks the most delicious pancakes and wears the sexiest butt floss I have ever seen.” Ned is covering her face at this point and the crowd displays more than one confused face so I keep going. “So thank you, baby, life would be so dull without you.” And cue the round of applause.

  I sit back down in my seat and smile at Ned as everyone continues to clap. “Ah, baby, don’t be embarrassed,” I say laughing.

  “I can never come back here,” she says as I laugh. “I’m going to get you back for that,” she mumbles.

  “I can’t wait,” I chuckle.

  After the crowd settles down, we pay the check and head out the door of the restaurant.

  “I cannot believe you did that!” Ned laughs as she hits me on the arm.

  “I thought we spoke about your violence,” I say grabbing her hand and slipping my fingers through hers again. I start dragging her home. “And I can’t believe that you thought you had control over what I say.”

  “Neither can I, you’re like a loose cannon,” she groans. I laugh.

  “There is no part of the contract that says I can’t make toasts to my girlfriend in public places.”

  “Yeah well the contract may need amending,” she says.

  “I’d do it all over again to see that look on your face.”

  “What? Humiliation and shame?”

  “Yup, that’s the one.”

  “I’m glad my pain amuses you.”

  “It does, babe.”

  We continue walking in silence as we make our way back to Ned’s penthouse. I keep replaying the night over in my head and it brings a silly smile to my face. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time with a woman and felt so comfortable — other than with my mom and Layla. It’s weird, and I’m not entirely sure if I like it. I try not to think about all the reasons why it’s crazy to enjoy spending time with Ned and instead focus on this moment right now.

  “This is your stop,” I whisper as we stand outside of her building.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Good luck with your meetings tomorrow,” I say as we stare into each other’s eyes.

  “Thanks.” She smiles. I pull her toward me so that we are no more than an inch apart. I love the feel of her body heat; I try to ignore the ripples of pleasure that are coursing through my body. I press my lips against her forehead and hold them there for a second. I feel her relax under my touch and it gives me the strangest sense of joy. I stand back and create some space between us.

  “Goodnight, girlfriend,” I whisper with a slight smirk.

  “Night, boyfriend.” She smiles up at me.

  “Night,” I repeat and then I turn around quickly without looking at her face. I can imagine the expression she has but seeing it plastered over her face is far too dangerous. So, I never look back and instead take direct and fast steps in the direction of my apartment. It’s over twenty minutes away by train, but I don’t care. I need all the air I can get right now because Ned just stole a ton of it when I held her in my arms.

  I wake up with the image of Ned smiling, on my mind. I had a pretty good time with her yesterday, probably because she’s actually quite funny.

  I stretch my arms in the air and turn to see the right side of my bed empty, something that hasn’t happened in a while. I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to abide by that rule in the contract. We may need to re-negotiate.

  I slide out of my bed and stroll into my kitchen. I search the cupboards for something decent to eat but only come up with a granola bar that I’m pretty sure is beyond the expiration date. I don’t look at the date on it, that way I won’t know and can eat free of guilt. Now that Ned’s paid me my money I can finally do a decent shop. It’s been months since my account has seen money and it feels good.

  I head back to my room and jump straight back into bed. I have no idea what to do with my day off but I’m bored already. I rip back the packet of my granola bar and start chewing away. These things taste disgusting but I’m hungry. I find my phone thrown down on the floor and pick it up.

  Five messages …

  The first two are from Tracey — I know this because she signed her name at the bottom. Both of them are filled with curse words that describe what a terrible person I am. I delete them and move on to the next. I laugh as I open up the next message which ironically is from the flexible Lacey. Again, I only know this because she signed her name. She is just echoing her sister’s messages except hers are littered with spelling mistakes. I can’t resist messaging back and simply type the words Auto Correct and hit send.

  No wonder women hate me. Ned doesn’t seem to hate me. I doubt I’d be laughing if she did. Somewhere deep down, the thought of it bothers me.

  I scroll to the next message which is from Bobby stating that we need to talk. Yup, I think I’ll deal with that later. The last is a message from an unknown number calling me an ass. I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s that Kylie chick I had to kick out of my bed the other day. I’m the target of hate mail today.

  I close the message screen and pull up my call log. I scroll down to the number I called Ned on that first day when I was enquiring about the acting job. I save the number as Ned and pull up a new message.

  Me: How’s the meeting going? Cole (AKA Brennan which is actually the name on my BIRTH CERTIFICATE)

  I get a reply within thirty seconds, and I cannot deny that I am a little excited. I roll over onto my stomach and read Ned’s message.

  Ned: Boring and uncomfortable. (Cole sounds better … I know a company that can legally change the name if you want their details?)

  I laugh.

  Me: Uncomfortable? (I’ll pass on the name change.)

  Ned: I think I may have shrunk my floss when I did my washing last night. One word: Ouch. (And your loss.)

  I burst out laughing.

  Me: I told you those things were dangerous. We’re taking them back tomorrow. Do you need me to come and assess the damage? I can take pictures for the lawsuit …

  Ned: Actually it was my own fault. My others are very comfortable. No lawsuit necessary.

  Me: Pictures?

  Ned: Definitely not necessary.

  Me: Video footage?

  Ned: I’m pretty sure collecting video footage is in direct violation of the contract.

  Me: You’re always in business mode … no fun.

  Ned: Someone has to be.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. I groan at the sound of someone knocking on my front door. Bang. Bang. Bang. Could you be any more impatient? Suddenly I freeze. Oh no. I didn’t pay Larry. He’s probably here to kick me out. How on
earth did I forget?!

  Me: Babe, I’ve got to go, I think my landlord is here. I forgot to pay my rent and I’m pretty sure that I’m about to get evicted. Enjoy your meeting!

  I jump out of my bed, pull on a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt before racing to the door. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “I’m coming,” I shout as I try to speed my way down the hall. I get to the door and swing it open. It’s Bobby. “Oh, it’s you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. You ignored my message.” He says rushing past me, straight into the apartment.

  “Yeah, I’ve been a little busy.”

  “I’m sure you have,” he says as I walk into my living room behind him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you had a girlfriend?”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Bren, it doesn’t work with me. You don’t date and something is going on here and I want to know what.” He stands up and watches me closely. “If you’ve got yourself into trouble, spill now because it’s me or Layla who is going to have to try and get you out of whatever it is. Is she married, is that it? Oh gosh, her husband’s in the mafia isn’t he?”

  I start laughing.

  “What is so funny?”

  “You. I’m sure you’re the one that should have the acting career. No, she’s not married and she has no links to the mafia.” I hope.

  “Then what is going on?”

  “She’s my boss.” Technically the truth.

  “You’re sleeping with your boss?”

  “Yes.” I slept in her house so that sentence could totally be misinterpreted, right?

  “Not as bad as I thought,” he says before flopping back onto my battered couch.

  “You always think the worst of me,” I say.

  “Yeah, and I’m usually right.”

  “True. You want a drink?”

  “Yeah, what you got?”

  “Water or water?”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “Gosh, there’s just so many choices; I think I’ll go for…water.”

  “Excellent decision,” I reply sarcastically before heading into the kitchen. I run the faucet for a few seconds before grabbing a glass out of the cabinet and filling it up.

  “Are you sure this won’t affect your job?” I hear Bobby shout.

  I don’t answer until I have walked back into the room.

  I shake my head. “I’m contracted for a year,” I say, handing him the glass.

  I take the seat opposite him. “Yeah but I’m pretty sure that sleeping with your boss is grounds for having your contract terminated.”

  “Bobby, it’ll be fine. You worry too much.”

  “Yeah, and you worry too little. And why is she going around telling people she’s your girlfriend if you’re just sleeping with her?”

  “Because she is.” He spits the water out of his mouth and onto my carpet.

  “Not cool, man,” I groan.

  “I’m sorry but did you just refer to a member of the opposite sex as your girlfriend?”

  “It’s not that hard to believe,” I mumble.

  “Oh believe me it is. I thought there was a higher chance of you turning out gay.”

  “You’re a moron.”

  “Maybe so, but I am right. So, are you guys exclusive as in you’re not gonna bang any other chicks?”

  Deep breath. “Nope.”

  “Nope to being exclusive or banging other chicks?”

  “Nope to the chicks.” I can’t say it out loud because it still hurts to say. He laughs. Loud.

  “Are you in love?”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Come on, Bren, you never date and now you’re going around saying this chick is your girlfriend and that you’re not planning on sleeping with any other girls. Either the sex is really good or you’re in love.” I have no idea how good the sex is but I wish I did.

  “You know what? This conversation is over. Is that all you came here for?”

  “Pretty much.” He smirks.

  “Wipe that stupid look off your face and get out of my apartment.”

  “Oh, did I hit a nerve?”

  “No, I just want to go and wash my balls in peace and that’s not exactly possible with you around.”

  “Why don’t you get Ned to wash them?” He teases.

  “Maybe I will.” I wish I could.

  “You’re whipped.”

  “And you’re a creepy stalker.”

  “That’s not funny man,” he says more seriously.

  “I wasn’t being funny; following a girl around without her knowledge is usually referred to as stalking.”

  “I don’t follow her around. I just visit her at work, without her knowledge.” Now I laugh.

  “Stalker.”

  “Shut up,” he says before stomping toward my front door.

  “Where are you going? To stalk your imaginary girlfriend?”

  “She’s not imaginary and I’m not stalking her! I’m going to return a pair of shoes.”

  I laugh even louder.

  “Shut up, Bren,” he says as he walks out the door.

  “Have fun!” I shout at him before closing the door. I laugh all the way to my room. That laugh changes to a smile when I see a message from Ned.

  Ned: That doesn’t make sense. I paid him the day we signed the contract, straight after I paid you …

  Me: Who?

  I’m so confused while waiting for her to reply. I stare at my screen until it lights up with a message from her.

  Ned: Your landlord. Larry. I paid him, so why would he evict you?

  Me: He didn’t. It wasn’t Larry, it was Bobby. What do you mean you paid him? I’m confused.

  Ned: I had to do a background check on you before you signed the contract, Cole. When I did it came up that you owed four months rent.

  It looks like everyone but Larry knew that I owed him four months’ rent. Maybe he was just testing me to see if I would fess up.

  Me: And you paid it?

  Ned: Yes.

  I smile.

  Me: Haha I knew you liked me.

  Ned: What? I DO NOT like you.

  Me: Yes, you do.

  Ned: What on earth brings you to that conclusion?

  Me: Babe, you paid my rent. You knew I was in trouble and came to my rescue. It’s kind of cute actually.

  Ned: Ha ha ha is that what you think? Don’t be ridiculous, Cole. Remember that you’re my “boyfriend” and if you get evicted then the expectation is that you should move in with me and that was not something I was about to let happen. So I found Larry’s details, got in contact and made sure there was no reason for you to move in with me.

  Me: Ned?

  Ned: Yes?

  Me: You like me, babe.

  I laugh as I’m typing.

  Ned: It’s coming off your next paycheck.

  She’s adorable. I don’t reply. Instead, I make a call to Layla. She picks up instantly.

  “Hey, Sis.”

  “Brennan, is everything ok?”

  “Yeah, everything is great.”

  “Oh, then what’s up?”

  “I just called to see if you wanted to go out for something to eat tonight?”

  “I thought you said next week?”

  “Well, I changed my mind. I want to take you out tonight.”

  “You do?” She sounds surprised.

  “Yes, I do. Come on, I’m trying to turn over a new leaf here stop making me look bad.” I hear laughing down the phone.

  “Ok, continue,” she says.

  “I was thinking that we could check out that new restaurant, La Vita?” I tell myself that I want to go to La Vita because I’m really looking forward to trying the food but who am I kidding?

  “Yeah, my friend Ellie said the food is amazing.”

  “Is the menu in English?” I ask, panicked.

  “I think so.” She sounds baffled.

  “Good. Shall we say around six?”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll just me
ssage Jamie and tell him that he’s got the kids all to himself tonight.” She chuckles.

  “Great, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Bye.”

  “See you later.”

  Layla pulls up outside of my apartment at exactly 5:45 p.m. She sends me a text and I head down to her car and slide right in. It smells like baby diapers and vomit when I get in but I decide not to say anything since she looks a little stressed.

  “You ok?” I ask nervously.

  “Not really, no.”

  Now ladies … you need to know that when a guy asks you if you’re ok all he is looking for is a simple “yes, I’m fine” nothing else. When a woman is too enthusiastic and answers with a “yeah, I’m great” it makes us suspicious and we start asking questions like “what the hell has made her feel so good today” and you don’t want that. Now, more importantly, what you really need to know is that when you answer with a leading statement like “not really, no” it means that you expect us to carry on the conversation and that is the last thing we want to do. That is a man’s worse fear. Here goes nothing …

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Jamie! He’s being such a jerk. He’s complaining because he has to watch the kids tonight. Apparently, he’s too tired after work. Well, I’m freaking tired too! Does he have any idea how hard it is to look after a four-year-old and a nine-month-old baby? No, he doesn’t because he gets to escape to work every day. He doesn’t have to put up with the tantrums, the screaming, crying, scratching, biting, and lack of sleep.” See what I mean, ladies? This is not what we want to hear. “Oh, I’m sorry this is probably the last thing you want to hear.” She huffs.

 

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