Who the heck was buzzing her so late? She peeked out the blinds and saw a man. Was that Gabe? She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to come over this late at night. She plopped out of bed and put on her fuzzy purple slippers and matching bathrobe. She didn’t bother buzzing back to create more noise. All her bottom floor neighbors had probably woke from the buzzing, too.
After Sally opened the door and saw Gabe with his sad face, a sense of awe washed over her and made her shiver. The rake had come to toy with her in the middle of the night. How many times had she wished Gabe would show up on her doorstep? Now here he stood, and he had a friend with him, too.
Sally quietly opened the heavy door. “Gabe? What are you doing here?”
“Sally Rubino. I want you. I mean, I want you to know I was a complete asshole for hurting you. I’m so sorry,” sputtered Gabe. Then he vomited into the corner by her steps.
Sally’s eyes welled up. Dominick shook his head in disapproval.
“Let’s go. Come on, bra,” said Dominick as he took hold of and steadied Gabriel.
“I’m sorry, Sally,” slurred Gabriel.
“You’re drunk, Gabe. You should probably go home. We can talk about this later.”
“See, what did I tell you?” quipped Dominick to Gabe.
“Oh, wait. I should introduce you two. Sally Rubino, this is my cousin-all-the-way-from-South-Africa Dominick Patterson,” slurred Gabe.
Dominick offered his hand. “My apologies for this untimely greeting. Nice to finally meet you, Sally. I’ve heard many good things about you.”
It fascinated Sally to see how much Dominick and Gabe favored each other. Sure, they had different hair colors. Dominick had darker hair compared to Gabriel’s golden shade. Otherwise, they had the same azure eyes, strong jaw line, and athletic physique. They even dressed similar, but Dominick had a distinct accent and a five o-clock shadow.
“Nice to meet you, too, Dominick,” replied Sally. “And I’ve heard great things about you, a long time ago. But now it’s really late, and I have to get some sleep.”
“Oh, right. See, she does most of her writing early in the morning, Dominick,” explained Gabriel, who gestured typing. “Before the sun rises.”
Sally couldn’t believe Gabriel cared to remember. If he wasn’t so drunk and with his cousin, she probably would have let Gabriel in the door with that line. Instead, she went back inside the door. “Good night, guys.”
“Good night, Sally. Sorry for waking you,” Dominick said as he pulled Gabe away while Sally closed the door. Part of Sally really wanted Gabe to come inside, but she couldn’t make it that easy for him. Plus, his gorgeous cousin seemed like a genuinely nice guy but would probably be appalled by the size of her apartment, tiny indeed.
Chapter Three
Sally Rubino climbed back into bed in disbelief. Much to her chagrin, Gabe’s drunk confession had moved her. After some useless tossing and turning, she realized she could not go back to sleep without calling Kimmie.
Sally rang her best friend, the one person she could call anytime. “Hey, it’s me,” said Sally when Kimmie picked up.
“Huh? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? It’s almost midnight and you have to write in like four hours,” Kimmie reminded her. In the background, Sally could hear a man moan, “Come on, baby,” followed by Kimmie’s “Just wait-a-minute.” Unlike bookish Sally, Kimmie had a bevy of men interested in keeping her king-sized bed warm at night in her posh Charles Street apartment.
Kimmie hailed from Southie and had humble beginnings. Now she modeled lingerie and studied law part-time at Suffolk University.
“I can’t sleep. Gabe and his cousin just stopped by.”
“Oh, shit. Honey, I’m gonna need some cawfee,” Sally heard Kimmie say to a male in the background, who mumbled something to the tune of, “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”
“If you want this ass awake, go and get me some cawfee,” reiterated Kimmie.
Sally listened in utter admiration of her friend’s demand before continuing, “He came over and buzzed the door. He had his cousin with him and—”
“Was he cute?” Kimmie interrupted. She sometimes had a bad habit of interrupting when she felt excited.
“Um, actually, they look a lot alike. But Dominick is from South Africa.” For some reason, Sally felt a bit uncomfortable answering that question.
“Yes! I knew it! How wicked hot. Move over Gabe, your cousin is in town.”
“Well,” Sally tried to steer the conversation back to what happened. “They came over and Gabe was wasted.”
“Figures.”
“Gabe said he was an asshole for everything he did and really sorry, again.”
“Gabe’s a fuckin’ idiot. At least be sober when you apologize for breaking up with you. How do you even know if he meant what he said?”
“True. But he seemed distraught,” said Sally.
“Distraught,” mocked Kimmie. “You crack me up, Sal. This is not one of your novels, okay? Hold on. Just a minute…” Kimmie said to the mystery man. “…yeah, I keep extra contact solution and cases under the bathroom sink for overnight guests.” With that, Sally realized Kimmie was really a professional dater—Kimmie didn’t even wear contacts.
“Look, Sal,” continued Kimmie. “You’re so pretty but kind of skittish. Men like a woman with confidence. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are your worst enemy. You want me to call somebody for you?”
“No, please don’t. The last thing I need is a sympathy screw.”
“Okay. A sympathy screw with a stranger this late might be kind of creepy.” A pregnant pause ensued followed by a smooching sound. “Even if he’s hot?”
“No, thanks. Anyways, I don’t want someone trying to get into your pants through mine.”
“What? See, that’s just it, Sal. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Sally thought perhaps calling Kimmie was not such a good idea. Sometimes Sally enjoyed hearing her advice, but this was not necessarily the therapy she had called for. Or was it?
“I better go, Kim. Didn’t mean to call so late.”
“Anytime, Sal.” And she knew Kimmie meant it. Several times over the years, Kimmie had gone out of her way to ditch dates to save Sally from the woes of heartbreak and solitude. Moreover, Kimmie had helped Sally pay the rent until Sally’s commission arrived. Sally always paid Kimmie back but wished she could do more in return for Kimmie.
“Thanks, Kimmie. See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Sal.”
Chapter Four
Sally rode the T to Boylston and walked leisurely up Newbury Street. Countless tourists and native Bostonians were shopping at the little stores and enjoying the various eateries. She passed an artist painting a couple’s little silky terrier and looked admiringly at the window displays of designer stores. She imagined writing a bestseller and going on a shopping spree down Newbury Street. She would stop at Chanel, Armani, Guess, and so many more stores. For now, she shopped at a garden level consignment shop that carried secondhand versions of designer brands.
Sally stopped at her and Kimmie’s usual Spanish haunt and ordered a pitcher of sangria while she waited for Kimmie to arrive. The orangey-red, fruity drink refreshed her spirits. Five minutes later, Kimmie showed up still wearing heavy make-up and hair done up from her photo shoot. She wore a short, silver strapless dress. Men gawked at Kimmie’s long, tan legs and her blonde tresses cascading over her shoulders and down her back. She looked like a walking mermaid.
The best friends shared their favorite Spanish tapa, an array of olives, and drank the fruity drink of the gods. The pleasant sunshine made it a fine day to eat outside at the little wrought iron tables shaded by blue umbrellas.
“Gabe’s cousin was really nice last night. Dominick seemed embarrassed by the situation,” admitted Sally.
Kimmie sucked on a black olive and removed the pit. One of the dining guests at a nearby table stared at Kimmie until she belched. The g
uest almost choked on his anchovies. He downed a glass of water and kept his eyes on his plate after that.
Kimmie replied to Sally, “I wanna meet Dominick. I’d love to go to South Africa for a shoot one day. I could ask him about what it’s like. Listen to him talk about lions and wild things.”
“Well, he and Gabe will probably attend the Pops concert for Fourth of July this weekend. Gabe hates to miss it,” predicted Sally.
“We’re there!” Kimmie sucked another olive.
Sally couldn’t help think about how she still wanted to see Gabriel again. Perhaps he was truly sorry. Should she give him a chance? “Maybe I should call Gabe. Or should I text him?” asked Sally.
“No, Sal. The ball is in your court. We’re just gonna go and enjoy the show. They’ll be there.”
“Okay.” Sally believed Kimmie, who knew much more about dating. Sally wondered if they would find Gabriel and Dominick at the open amphitheater amidst the throngs of people by the Charles River. In patriotic spirit, Gabe did like to wear a red, white, and blue Uncle Sam top hat that would definitely help them spot him if he wore it.
Sally ordered some spicy squid. She needed a bit more food to feel full.
“How’s your squid?” asked Kimmie.
“Delicious.” Sally savored the tender meat.
“I don’t know how you eat that stuff,” replied Kimmie.
“Can you let me enjoy my food?” teased Sally.
“That’s my girl, Sal.” Kimmie loved it when Sally got sassy with her. Kimmie held up her glass of sangria and they clanked glasses. “Ugh. I don’t want to go back to work. They want me to wear this new waterproof thong the size of dental floss. It’s a good thing I got my Brazilian wax.”
“Why do you need waterproof underwear?” asked Sally.
“Maybe for that special moment when your man throws you into the hot tub, or you really don’t want your favorite panties ruined when he makes a big splash in the bedroom,” said Kimmie, winking.
“Oh, that is nasty,” said Sally.
Kimmie laughed. “Don’t act like you’re Miss Virgin over there, Sal. I remember when you told me about Gabe’s package,” Kimmie cleared her throat. “So Dominick has a nice package, too.”
“Kimmie! We’re eating. And how can you say that?”
“What? It’s usually genetic,” Kimmie said nonchalantly. She poured them both some more sangria. “I love this city. You can get drunk and get a taxi, no worries. But I am actually dealing with a situation right now, you don’t even know.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Sally.
“You know I’m dating a few guys right now. But Mark, he wants to be exclusive. He gave me an ultimatum the other night. We got into it, and I hate that.” Kimmie rolled her eyes and tossed her beautiful blonde hair.
If only I had her problems—aqua thong and all, Sally thought. She continued nodding and listening to her best friend.
“Why can’t we just be free to date whoever we want and enjoy how nature intended us mammals to be? It’s not like we’re married. Anyhow, Mark wants to propose, I just know it. He’s been taking me to these fine restaurants, the MFA, the Pru, and fiddling in his pocket like he either has something in it or has crabs.”
Sally and Kimmie both gave each other a knowing look and laughed. Sally finished off her glass. She really did not like alcohol except fruity types like sangria or wine coolers. In contrast, Kimmie could down a bottle of wine a day and a shot or two.
“Can I get you ladies anything else?” their pretty Spanish-looking waitress asked.
Kimmie looked at Sally. “The tab, please,” replied Kimmie. She made way more than Sally and had no qualms about paying the tab for lunch whenever they went out. They had already agreed Sally would leave a generous tip. Both of them had served as waitresses before and remembered how they struggled to get by on tips.
“No, really. I don’t play around when it comes to STDs. You know I’m all about safe sex,” clarified Kimmie.
“Yes, I’ve seen your condom stash. You’re like a drugstore,” replied Sally.
“When you’re in the moment, you don’t want to ruin it by having to go to CVS to get just the right size,” Kimmie mimicked in her best commercial voice.
Sally laughed and shook her head. She loved her friend’s crazy sense of humor. “So do you want to stay with Mark or break up with him?”
“That’s the thing. I really like Mark. He is a CFO, has great style, and he’s sweet.”
“So what’s stopping you from being exclusive with him?”
Kimmie looked at her cell phone for the time. “Fifteen more minutes. Well, Mark has this problem. I don’t know if you want to call it a problem, actually, because he makes it work.”
“What?” wondered Sally.
And for a rare moment, Kimmie blushed strawberry red.
“What is it, Kimmie? It’s not like you to get so flushed about something. He doesn’t really have crabs, does he?” Sally asked, worried.
“Fogettaboutit! We are not at a seafood restaurant, for Gawd’s sake,” jested Kimmie as she rolled her eyes. She took a swig of her sangria. “Anyways, let me just tell you. Mark’s you-know-what is bent.”
It took a second for Sally to register what Kimmie’s words. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and he’s self-conscious about it. But for some weird reason he keeps making these references to it. We were at Whole Foods in the cereal aisle the other morning, and he said, ‘I got your Captain Hook right here, baby.’”
“Oh, my God.” Sally covered her agape mouth.
“When we were in St. Thomas, one of the servants walked in on us, and he just kept fucking me and said, ‘Yeah, baby, take my corkscrew.’ And he keeps asking me if his dick feels good when we have sex.”
“Well, does it?” asked Sally, really curious. She had only been with a few men before Gabe. All of them had been average sized except for Gabe.
“Fuck yeah. It feels amazing,” declared Kimmie. “Actually, Mark feels better than straight men.” She and Sally rolled with laughter.
“At least he cares and asks how you feel,” replied Sally through her chuckles. “Some men can be selfish.”
“Oh, if a man does not offer foreplay or at least tries to make me come first, then I put a line through his name.”
“In your little black book?”
“It’s purple, remember? Our favorite color.” They clanked glasses. That was one of the few things Kimmie and Sally did have in common. They loved purple with a passion. Otherwise, the opposites complimented each other in friendship.
“I do miss Gabe,” confessed Sally.
“Sally, you’ve got to get through this dry spell. Why do you think I’ve been trying to hook you up with people?” said Kimmie. “It’s not healthy to deprive your vagina so long. You’re in your prime. Do you want to wait until your plumbing doesn’t work anymore?”
“No,” admitted Sally.
Kimmie finished off her sangria. “So go ahead and let Dominick help you out. Do it for your vagina.”
“Stop it, Kimmie.” Sally blushed. “I don’t even know Dominick, and he’s Gabe’s cousin. I couldn’t go there. Besides, Dominick probably has a girlfriend back in South Africa.”
“He is hot, I knew it,” confirmed Kimmie. Their waitress brought the tab and set it down on the table. “Thank you very much,” she said with a cheerful smile before picking up their little empty ceramic plates.
Kimmie reminded Sally as they got up from the table, “Either way, Dominick is a long way from home, my friend.”
Chapter Five
After a massive hangover in the wee hours of the morning, Gabriel took a cold shower. He couldn’t believe he had acted like such a fool and woke up Sally in the middle of the night. He couldn’t be mad at Dominick. His cousin had tried to stop him. His pounding head remembered that much.
Gabriel put on his navy blue suit and walked past his cousin sleeping in on his couch. Dominick preferred to sleep on it rather than in the
guest bedroom. Something about the guest bed was too soft. “Must be nice to be on vacation half the year,” Gabriel had told Dominick when he arrived. Gabriel couldn’t help but be quite envious of his globetrotting cousin.
On the marble kitchen island, Gabriel left a sticky note that read, “Bra,” with a spare key on top of it for Dominick. Then Gabriel walked down the brick hill to Charles Street and over to the gold-and-green 7-Eleven. He grabbed a cup of black coffee and walked back up Charles and across the Common to work. He kept thinking about how pretty Sally always looked even disheveled after waking up, just like she had when she lay next to him in the mornings after they had made love years before. Man, how he wanted her again.
“Got any change?” a familiar homeless man sitting on a bench asked him. Gabriel had seen him many times over the years he had lived on the Hill and worked downtown. Gabriel tried to act like he didn’t hear the question, as he was already late for work. “You’re a nice one,” the homeless man yelled sarcastically. Damn it, he knew.
Gabriel walked across the crosswalk with a crowd of people. He loved stopping traffic when he wasn’t driving in it. No time for a fresh newspaper. He would ask the receptionist Sheila for a copy. Sheila, a single mother, had really bounced back and dropped at least twenty pounds after having her baby. Too bad she was only twenty-three-years-old.
“Good morning, Sheila. Got a copy of The Globe?” he asked her as he came out of the elevator. Gabriel managed human resources at a job consulting firm.
“Good morning, Mr. O’Brien. Yes, right here,” Sheila said. “Sorry, I already read the horoscopes.”
“Yeah? Good news?” asked Gabriel.
“It says I may be feeling lonely, but that someone special will see how mature I am now and help me through this trying time,” said Sheila with a glimmer in her eye. “Nice tie.”
“Oh, thanks.” Gabriel swallowed. The minx enjoyed making him squirm.
Beacon Hill Beauties (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 2
