by Autumn Skye
“Well, do you promise?”
“To not take calls from my mother or sister this weekend? Sure, I can manage that.”
“Not just that,” Farah said with a touch of exasperation edging into her voice. “Promise to have fun.”
“I’ll do my best. I am going to be all by myself.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get out. The lake is only a few miles from town. They have antique shops you can browse. Don’t tell me that doesn’t draw your attention. I know you better.”
“Okay, I’ll check out the town.”
“I think you’ll like it. The people are super nice.”
“I’m sure I will enjoy some time away from the office. I just wish you were coming with me.”
“I usually bring my work along on vacations, so it wouldn’t really be like time away if I did,” she pointed out.
I had a quick flash of the last time we’d had time away together and blushed. I hoped she wouldn’t guess what I was thinking of, because we’d both agreed it was a one-time thing. She’d decided we both needed a night away and rented us a five-star hotel room with all the amenities imaginable. We were supposed to spend the evening working out in the gym and soaking in a hot tub, but one thing had led to another. We’d enjoyed a bit too much of the complimentary wine and hardly left the room all night. It had happened right after her divorce had become finalized. She was at a place where she’d needed someone and I was always in that place, so I couldn’t really put a hundred percent of the blame on the wine. We’d gone a lot farther than either of us would have expected and the next morning was awkward to say the least. The reason I knew it wasn’t going to happen again was that we’d never even discussed it, but the memory lingered between us. Sometimes, like now, it almost felt as if the chemistry we had was sending a charge throughout the air that surrounded us. Yet, somehow, we both knew we weren’t meant to be in a romantic relationship. We were friends. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find the right person for me, but I did know that it wasn’t Farah, even if I wished it were.
Why then, did I have an urge to lean in and put a kiss on her soft red lips? The same reason I did it the first time, I guess. She was the only one who was always there. Of course, that wasn’t a good enough reason to jeopardize a friendship. If I was feeling a bit lonely of late, it was my own damned fault. I could get off my ass and do something about it. The only one standing in my way was me.
“Would you like a refill?” she asked, nodding at my half empty glass.
“No, I think I should get home and finish packing. I’m hitting the road tomorrow right after work.”
“I’ve been rethinking that. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather make the drive Saturday morning? The roads out that way are narrow and curvy and it will be getting dark by the time you get to the lake.”
“I’ll be fine. There’ll be less traffic in the evening once I make it out of Houston.”
“Okay, just be careful and call once you get there.”
“I will,” I said.
“I’m excited for you. This trip is what you need to break the monotony.”
“I hope it does. I’m actually starting to look forward to it.”
***
I should have driven straight home. I had to get up early for work and then make the long drive to the lake since I wasn’t taking Farah’s advice to leave Saturday morning. Yet, I couldn’t face being alone right then. As anti-social as I can be, I do have moments where I get slightly stir crazy, so I decided to stop off at The Pink Rose Club to see my only other friend in the world besides Farah.
Jackie had been bartending at the club for as long as I’d been going there, a couple of years now. She was paid to listen to my woes, but I still felt close enough to her that I called her a friend. She let me go on and on about work, my mother, and my social awkwardness, all the while refusing anytime I tried to tip her. As I’ve said, I rarely went out, but when I did it I always wound up at The Rose.
“Hey, Lily, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jackie said when I approached the bar.
“I thought I’d come by and say hello. I’m leaving town tomorrow. Vacation.”
“What can I get you?”
“Just a soda.”
“You sure are a wild one,” she shook her head.
“I’m driving.”
“In that case, thank you for being so responsible. I wish I could say as much about all my customers.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Tell me about this vacation? Where are you headed?”
“Sapphire Lake.”
“Never heard of it,” she said, setting the cola down in front of me.
“Neither have I. Farah owns a cabin there. She’s loaning it to me.”
“Sounds romantic. Are you taking someone special with you?”
“No, just me.”
“Figures.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Honestly? You need to get laid.”
My jaw dropped, though I had no reason to be shocked. Jackie was never anything if not blunt. “Did you seriously just say that to me?”
“Yes, and I meant it. How many nights have you come in here and just sat like you were glued to the chair when you could be out on the dance floor making new friends?”
I sighed and moaned before confessing, “I do. I do need to get laid.”
“Of course, you do. We all do, occasionally. It’s only natural, so what’s holding you back?”
“I can’t seem to connect with anyone.”
“Yes, I guess it’s hard connecting with people while staring into your glass.”
“You sound like Farah.”
“Farah is a smart woman. You should listen to her. Anyway, what happened with that blond you met in here a while ago? It looked like the two of you were hitting it off.”
“Her name is Sarah and she’s married, only she forgot to mention it before we-” I didn’t finish the sentence, assuming she could figure the rest out on her own.
“Ouch. No wonder you’re shy about “connecting.” You’ve been burned.”
“More than once. That’s why I’ve sworn off dating.”
“Well, if you let that hold you back it will. What you need is a one-night stand, or a meaningless fling. Someone you don’t have to worry about connecting with in more than one way. Just have fun. Maybe you’ll meet someone on this trip.”
“I doubt that, but you really are sounding more and more like Farah.”
“If you do, you should say fuck it and go for it.”
“That’s what you would do, I’m sure. I can’t do that.”
“You can be so negative, Lily. It’s a real turn off. That could be part of the problem.”
“I feel like I’m-I don’t know-getting older and my life isn’t on the right track. I have no career. I have no love life. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?”
“No, but I’m content with my life,” she shrugged. “Tending bar is the right career for me. I’m going to open my own club someday. I might not have met that special someone yet, but I have my share of dates. I still vote for you getting laid. It does wonders for me.”
“You’re impossible,” I said in an admonishing tone.
“First things first. If your feeling ancient at the age of twenty-four, it’s time for a change. If you aren’t satisfied with your job, find another one. Get laid in the meantime. Don’t get serious with anyone until you have your shit together, because honey, you aren’t anywhere close to running out of time, but if you wait too long…”
I nodded. She had a point. It wasn’t too late for me if I made an attempt to make some changes. I could call the community college when I got back from the lake and see about getting into a few classes. Maybe I could scrimp and save the money to take an interior design class. They offered night classes, so it wouldn’t interfere with my work schedule. Truth be told, I didn’t need a class. I had a natural knack for decorating, but if I wanted to start u
p my own little side business eventually, it’d look good to prospective clients if I could say I had some sort of formal education in the field. There was no telling if I’d ever do well enough to quit the firm, but if I only made enough to supplement my income doing something I loved it’d be worth the effort. It gave me a goal to work towards anyway.
“You gave me an idea. I feel better already,” I said, wishing I could throw my arms over the bar and give her a hug.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she grinned. “But seriously, get laid.”
Chapter Three
Danielle
Why had I invited her here? If I had to hear one more story about who’d gotten a facelift, or who was cheating on who, I’d either lose my sanity or toss my cookies. Shelly was as close to a friend as I could claim, but it was and always had been a forced alliance. Her husband, Lucas, was Jared’s business partner. Over the course of Jared’s and my marriage, Shelly and I had co-hosted a lot of cocktail parties together. In a sense, we were partners, too. It was our job to make our husband’s look good, entertain clients, and keep the money pouring into the company. Part of making the men look good had involved becoming the ultimate trophy wives. We dieted together, worked out together, and played each other’s personal stylist when we shopped together. Living even on the fringes of Texas’s ultra-rich meant having each other’s backs against the other wives at the country club, who had their own clique and were quick to squash outsiders trying to climb the social ladder. That made my friendship with Shelly a mutually beneficial one. At least, it had been before the divorce. Now I’d fallen from grace and Shelly was sitting here in Kinley, a spit and miss it town, barely tolerating its one and only mom and pop café. I loved the quaint little place, but she was clearly out of her element, obviously ready to bolt and flee back to the city as fast as her Cadillac would take her. She sat across from me, sipping coffee and giving me that sly, “Oh, how far you have sunk,” look of hers that I was trying so hard to ignore. It was especially hard to stomach since I had, indeed, crashed and burned, at least in the eyes of people like her.
“Danielle, I love you, but sweetie, you might be out of your league. That house is atrocious and what do you know about the real estate market? As much as I hate to admit it, maybe you should call Jared and ask for his input. I know he’d bail you out of this mess. Part of him is lost without you. He still talks about you all the time.”
“Bail me out?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, but you’ve made a terrible mistake buying that rickety old thing, in my opinion. You’ll never turn a profit. What were you thinking?”
“Thanks, Shelly. Your faith and confidence in me touches my heart.”
“Well, why couldn’t you vacation on South Padre, or go on a vendetta and sabotage your ex’s new girlfriend like most divorced women do? Or you know, you could find a hot young lover of your own. That’s how women deal with divorce. They don’t foolishly sink their settlement money into losing propositions, especially when they know nothing about the business in which they’re investing.”
I didn’t tell her I’d had a few lovers since the divorce, but most of my energy and passion was being poured into my new business. I was well aware that I could lose my ass in real estate. Perhaps a part of me hoped I would. Squandering away Jared’s money while he stood by helpless to watch did have a certain appeal to it. Money was all that mattered to my ex-husband. If I was after revenge hitting him in the wallet was the way to go, but I didn’t want to be that woman. Honestly, his affair and the fall out that had led to us going our separate ways hadn’t been so devastating. It had turned out to be a blessing. He’d done me a favor.
When I’d met Jared, I was nineteen, fresh out of high school. He’d hired me to sweep the floors at the machine shop he owned in my home town, Corpus Christi. He’d recently opened the shop and had a contract to make the pumps and valves used in the oil fields. Already, he was what most would consider a wealthy man. He was handsome, too. I gave him a quick “yes” when he invited me to have dinner with him one day after work. At the time, he’d seemed charismatic, but looking back, I think I was just young and dumb and in awe of the man who promised me the moon. I’d had plans to attend the university and further my education, but hadn’t yet enrolled. Regardless, he put me to work in the office, fielding calls from clients at first, and then learning the accounting aspects of the business. A year later, much to the chagrin of all the other available women in the city who’d had their sights set on him, we were married. Jared decided to expand and open several more shops around Texas, doubling and then tripling his fortune within five years.
Unlike Houston or Dallas, the people of Corpus weren’t impressed by high society. I was born in Corpus and I understood that it’s a city with a small town attitude, full of humble citizens who believe respect is earned not bought. I owned a Corvette, a magnificent designer wardrobe, and a mansion on Ocean Drive, but every now and then a local would remind me that I’d been pushing a broom when they knew me back in the day. That was fine with me. I didn’t have a problem with my roots. It was Jared who insisted we move up in the social circles. We owned property all over the state and belonged to the country club in every major city. I rarely took advantage of them, but he liked his golf. I suspected he also just liked pulling his membership card out of his wallet and waving it around for all to see. Jared had come from a middle-class background just like me, but unlike me, the status his success had brought him was very important to him.
In the beginning, I did try to present the image he felt was so important to project, but I never quite fit into the lifestyle. When he found himself a younger woman to fill my role after fifteen years of marriage, I was more than ready to be set free. Being a trophy wife got harder with each passing year. I intended to let the lines gracefully settle on my face and gaining ten pounds wouldn’t be the end of world, especially if I did it by eating chocolate and drinking my share of daquiris. But there was something more than the relief of letting myself go that I wanted. For the first time ever, I had the money and the freedom to do whatever the hell I chose to do. I’d never found the oil industry to be terribly fascinating. It was a money maker, but not where my interest lied. I’d learned a thing or two about the fundamentals of running a business, however. I intended to start my own, but didn’t have a clue as to what I’d be most happy pursuing until I found the house.
I’d come to Sapphire Lake for a retreat. Just because I was glad to be cut out of the upper-class crowd didn’t mean the tabloids had forgotten me. The gossip columns loved keeping tabs on aging ex-wives, even better if they could portray them as bitter and scorned. It didn’t have to be true. That’s why it was called gossip. My picture and name were still plastered in tabloids weekly. I’d initially planned to sell the lake property, but before I got around to it I realized it might be the perfect hide away. I doubted anyone in Kinley cared who I was or who I’d once been married to, and indeed. Used to vacationers, they’d hardly acknowledged my arrival until I purchased the house.
I could understand why Shelly thought I’d made a fool-hearted decision. Dumping half my settlement into the estate had been a spur of the moment purchase. I’d driven past it, noticed the for-sale sign, and had the realtor show it to me the next day. All I knew about rehabbing was what I’d picked up renovating the mansion on Ocean Drive in Corpus, but everyone, even Jared, had raved on about what a wonderful job I’d done. Jared had gotten a hell of a deal on it buying it at auction. It had been in foreclosure due to the last owner’s failure to pay taxes and he’d snatched it up for less than half its market value. I’d done all the decorating myself and the place had been featured in the Corpus Christi Caller-Times in the lifestyle section. I had no reason to think I could do the same for the Kinley house and turn a profit, but I was afraid if I thought on it too long I’d let my fear rule my thoughts. Some people work better in a sink or swim situation, so I bid on the house at two hundred thousand less than the asking price and it was mi
ne. Now the only question was, what the hell was I going to do with it?
Shelly implying I might be in need of a bail out wasn’t helping my apprehension. In fact, she’d hit a nerve. She wasn’t really a friend, not the kind I could count on to build me up and I suddenly couldn’t wait for her to go back to the city. Nevertheless, I still felt obligated not to be rude, so I extended an invitation for her to stay.
“It means the world to me that you made the drive down to see me. Would you like to come back to the cabin and have a swim?”
“I wish I had the time. I have an appointment, but thank you for brunch,” she said, sounding vague in not wanting to share what sort of appointment would take her away so early. She’d made an awfully long drive just to spend an hour with me. It occurred to me she wanted to get the hell out this small town as much as I wanted her gone. I supposed leaving Houston had put her into culture shock.
“You’re welcome. Anytime,” I said.
I had the sneaking suspicion she’d only come to see for herself how life in the sticks was treating me. I’d been living in the cabin for nearly a month now, all but completely off the Houston radar. I could hear her telling all my old acquaintances how I’d lost my mind and would soon lose my fortune as well. I’d made a mistake in showing her the house. It had stood vacant for years and to a woman like Shelly, it probably seemed like something out of an old scary movie, a vampire’s lair, complete with bats flying around the attic. I could see her throwing back her head in laughter at the next cocktail party after telling anyone who would listen about my money pit. I could also envision just how furious that would make Jared and I was content to stay here out of his line of fire. Almost content, anyway, if not for the loneliness.
True, I didn’t mind giving up my place in the elite’s circle, but that didn’t mean I was reclusive by nature. Before I’d met Jared, I’d had lots of friends, blue collars who enjoyed throwing back two-dollar beers, shooting pool, and shutting the dive bars around Corpus down every Saturday night. When I’d arrived at the lake, the isolation had been healing, but it hadn’t taken long before I was craving a companion to the point that I was grateful to see Shelly. That is, I was grateful until she opened her mouth and reminded me why I shouldn’t be.
