Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  “Here’s how I’m going to direct you, Jennifer. Don’t talk to me about these things. Talk to Alex about them. He’s perfectly capable of answering. You two are a couple now. You can’t come to me with these sorts of questions now. You have to trust in him. I don’t like saying this, but your life also is on the line. So, you must communicate with him. Ask him where things are. Behave as a committed couple. You’re both going through this. If you have a question, ask him. He’ll tell you what he knows. That said, if he knew anything, I’m certain he would have told you already.” She held up a finger. “But that’s not the point. The point is trust. The point is transparency. The point is talking with each other and not shying away from it. That’s the best advice I can give you. Do I know something? No. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t, so ask him. And why are you afraid of asking him, anyway?”

  “Because he has a lot on his mind right now.”

  “My dear, I can guarantee you that you are the first thing on his mind. If he knew anything, he’d tell you. I know Alex.”

  “All right. I guess I’ll just wait.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. I know he’ll tell you whatever he knows when he knows it. Alex is a good boy. He always has been, even if he did barf on me after eating too much pudding when he was four. He knows you’re part of this and that it’s on your mind. When there’s news, you’ll be among the first to know. You’ll even beat me, for God’s sake. So, change of subject. Where are you with Dufort and Streamed?”

  “Locked down yesterday afternoon.”

  “Good for you. You created that. Brava. What’s next?”

  “Tonight, Alex and I are actually going to have a little fun. We’re going to have dinner with Lisa and Tank.”

  “Lisa and Tank?”

  “Yes. They met the other day. Instant chemistry.”

  “I rather liked your friend when I met her. Very smart and chic. I’d love to dress her. And I absolutely adore Tank. He’s a good man. He’s a catch.”

  “So is Lisa.”

  “Then set a table for it. Serve drinks with it. Let the romance begin. Where are you dining tonight?”

  “db Bistro.”

  “Your old haunt.”

  “I loved it there. They were very good to me during a difficult time. I can’t wait to see everyone again.”

  She stood up and smoothed down her skirt. “Then enjoy yourselves. Here’s what I’ve learned in my life, Jennifer. It’s too damned short. You and Alex work hard. Find time for fun. Take one night for each other every week. I don’t care what you do, but it can’t be work. Don’t make the mistakes I made.”

  “What mistakes?”

  “Where do I even begin? I’m only going to share this with you because you’ve come to mean something to me, and because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I made in my life. OK?”

  When Blackwell got serious with me, I knew I’d be a fool not to listen to her. As dramatic as she liked to be, she was one of the smartest, most insightful women I knew. “All right.”

  “In too many ways, I regret how I’ve lived my life. When I look back upon it, I see all the work, all the late nights, all the early mornings, and all the accomplishments. But what else is there? At my age, I should have a wealth of friends, but I have only a few. I just got divorced. I haven’t traveled the world the way I promised myself I would when I was young. I haven’t snorkeled, which is one of the things I swore I would do before I died. I haven’t even been to Paris, Jennifer. Yes, that surprises me, too. Me, of all people. Never been to Paris. The list goes on and on. My life has only been about work. So much so that I know this building better than I do my own family. And as much as I love my job, I can tell you that giving myself to it wasn’t worth it. The only saving grace is my two children, but they’re now grown adults away at university—both on the West Coast—so I only see them during the summer and on holidays. We talk only occasionally because we’re not close. Why should we be? I put my career first.”

  “You can turn that around.”

  “In many ways, I think it might be too late.”

  “It’s not too late. You’re still a young woman.”

  “Young? I’m fifty-five, Jennifer. Fifty-five. I’m not without hope that I’ll find another man, but I know that the odds are against me. As for my girls, maybe there’s something that can be salvaged there, but that would mean time away from Wenn. That would mean a life change. Are they worth it? Oh, yes, they’re worth it. They’re all I’ve got. I have so much repairing to do with them that it might take me years. But I need to do it, so I will do it. I need to be the mother they didn’t have when they were growing up. At some point soon, I will start stepping away from Wenn and focusing on what matters—my daughters and my own happiness. So,” she said, “if you were my daughter, I would give you this advice: Live your life. Enjoy your career. Love Alex. Strike a balance. Love yourself enough to know that all of it matters, not just one part of it. Don’t make the mistakes I made.”

  “I love you, Ms. Blackwell.”

  Her face froze in shock for a moment before she quickly removed the expression and slipped back into the Blackwell I knew. “First you love Alex, and now you love me. Have you turned into a hippie? You know I can’t handle hearing those words. If I see a daisy in your hair, I swear to God I’ll rip it out.”

  “I mean it. And I’m not afraid to say it anymore. You’ve done so much for me. When I’ve really needed you, you’ve come through for me time and again. You dropped the veil and told me the truth I needed to hear. I only hope that one day soon I can do the same for you.”

  “Here’s what you can do for me, Jennifer. Don’t get knocked up before you marry him, OK? Since you’ll probably ask me to dress you for the occasion, that’s what you can do for me. I’ve shoehorned you into too many dresses to count. Do you even understand what it takes to fit that ass of yours into couture? I can’t be expected to also do a baby bump. It’s not happening, and it wouldn’t be fair if you did that to me.”

  “I wish you’d take this seriously.”

  Her expression changed to something less light and humorous. “A moment ago, I was very serious with you. And I do take what you said seriously. We all have our masks, Jennifer. We wear them every day to protect ourselves from the world, from friends, from emotion, from potential disappointment. You wear your own mask well.”

  I couldn’t deny that I did. She started to leave.

  “Before you go, I want you to know something,” I said.

  She stopped at the door and turned to me. “What’s that?”

  “I look up to you as I wish I could have looked up to my own mother. But she never was a mother to me. I never had that mother until you came into my life.”

  “I was horrible to you when you first came into my life.”

  “You were unkind, but not horrible. I can tell you what horrible is—I’ve lived a lifetime of horrible—and you never were that. So, thank you. Please do yourself a favor and consider taking a week or two off. Go and be with your girls. Show them the person that you’ve shown me. You’ve given me great advice today. And have on so many other days before today. So, welcomed or not, that’s my advice to you. Go and be the wonderful mother I know you’ll be to your girls. As someone who never had a real mother while I as growing up, I can promise you that they’ll be starved for it and that it will not be too late. In fact, while they’re in college, when the whole world seems screwed up and against them, you might just be in time.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Later that night, Lisa and I chatted as we got ready for our dinner with Alex and Tank.

  “I’m beyond stoked,” Lisa said as she darted around the penthouse doing whatever the hell it was that she was doing. I sat in the living room and watched her. I already was showered, hair pulled back into a neat chignon, and makeup applied, but not yet dressed for the evening. Instead, I wore a simple red silk robe that was a gift from Alex. Lisa was showered, but her hair was wet. She
wore no makeup and she was in a simple white cotton robe. I sat on one of the sofas overlooking the city and all the secrets it held within its matrix of lights. I sipped my martini and thought again how lucky I was to have such a view.

  “What should I wear?” Lisa asked.

  “A cute dress?”

  “What do you think Tank would appreciate?”

  “Something feminine. Boobs in, not out. He seems like a gentleman to me—I have a feeling he’d appreciate restraint. So, pretty and sexy, but subdued. Your personality is what’s going to grab him anyway.”

  “What are you wearing? What color?”

  “I’m wearing a little black dress.”

  “How little?”

  “Just above the knee.”

  “What kind of shoes?”

  “My Louboutins.”

  “Which ones?”

  “The black ones.”

  “Can I borrow the red ones?”

  “Take whatever you want.”

  “I love you more than good vodka.”

  “And I love you more than olives soaked in good vodka.”

  She zipped past me, martini in hand, and headed for my bedroom. She emerged with the red shoes, dangled them in front of me with a delighted grin, and disappeared into her bedroom. A few moments later, she emerged in a red dress that matched the shoes. The dress had a tasteful dip in the neckline that exposed just enough cleavage to create a mystery. I don’t know what she was wearing for a bra, but her breasts were high and tight. The dress went to her knee, so what she would be saying to Tank is that she was no slut. She was dressed properly for a first date.

  I was proud of her for getting back into the game. Lisa had only been with two men in her life—her two former long-term boyfriends. She gave her heart to each of them, and, for whatever reason, they stomped on it and tossed it back to her. And now, after a couple of years of being on her own, she was ready to take the risk and put herself out there again. Despite what she’d been through, she still believed that a good man was out there who deserved her. I admired her for that. But then, I tended to admire Lisa in whatever she did in her life.

  When she was finished blowing out her hair and applying the lightest bit of foundation and eye makeup, she came out of her bathroom and stood in front of me. “So?”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “I was going for hot.”

  “You also look hot, and in a way that I think Tank will appreciate. Not tramp hot. Just naturally hot.”

  “I almost went for zombie hot.”

  “I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Tank would. Tank also digs the undead.” She screwed up her face to me. “Do I call him Tank?”

  “Don’t you remember? When you first introduced him to your nipples, he asked you to call him Mitch.”

  “I didn’t introduce him to my nipples.”

  “You weren’t wearing a bra and the air conditioning was on full blast when we left the apartment. Let’s just say that you looked as if you’d just stepped out of a freezer. You and I both know that you introduced him to yourself and to your nipples.”

  “Whatever. Mitch it is. You should get dressed. We’ve got fifteen minutes before he and Alex arrive.”

  “One suggestion,” I said as I stood.

  “What’s that?”

  “Bernie’s been teaching me plenty. So has Blackwell. This is a first date, but at an excellent, formal restaurant. I’d go for a little more eye makeup. Not much, but enough to let those blue eyes of yours pop. And maybe a trace of color on your lips. Something to complement your dress and shoes. Just to finish it off. Don’t overdo it.”

  “I’m on it. Now get dressed.”

  I got dressed.

  * * *

  In the lobby, Alex and Tank were waiting for us. So were four other men who were standing away from them and next to the exit. Security. I took a breath and went with it. What choice did I have? Alex was my life, so this also would be my life. Period.

  “God, he’s a stud,” Lisa said under her breath when we left the elevator. “Look at him. Who is even built like that?”

  “He is.”

  “I totally want to survive the zombie apocalypse with him.”

  “Well, then.”

  I waved at them both. “Hello, boys,” I said.

  “Ladies,” Alex said.

  “Jennifer. Lisa,” Tank said.

  Alex was wearing dark blue jeans, a white button-down shirt open at the throat, and a black blazer. He grinned at me in the same way that he had a dozen times before, and my heart melted a bit. I loved him.

  Tank was wearing a white polo, a brown blazer that looked broad enough to cover a football field, and khaki pants that were so tight around his thighs that they looked like they barely could contain the massive muscles hidden within. I had to give it to him. He was something to look at. But what thrilled me was that he was looking only at Lisa as we crossed the distance between them.

  The last time he saw her, she wore skinny jeans, pumps, and a tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Nipple City. But tonight was a game changer. He’d never seen her dressed up for a night out. Lisa always looked pretty because she was naturally pretty. But he’d yet to see what she could become with a little effort. It was clear from his expression, which included a pair of parted lips, that he was taken by her. I felt excited for them. Who knew what tonight could bring for them?

  “You look lovely,” Alex said when he leaned down to kiss me.

  “And you look like a dish well served.”

  “It’s nice to see you again, Lisa,” Tank said. “You look terrific.”

  She took his hand. “Thank you, Mitch. You look very handsome.”

  When he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it, I felt like saying, “Shit just got real.”

  But Alex saw it and he knew it. Of course he did. He squeezed my hand. I glanced at him, and saw the gleam of mischief in his eyes. Then, I said in a voice that was unnaturally chirpy, “Shall we?”

  * * *

  Dinner at db Bistro was delicious and nostalgic. I was able to again see Stephen, my former boss, who brought us a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, one of the many champagnes he had me try during my brief employment there.

  “I remember how much you liked it when I gave you a taste,” he said to me while he poured each of us a glass. “On the house, of course.”

  “Thank you, Stephen,” I said.

  He winked at me. “You and your friends are welcome here anytime, Jennifer. The staff misses you.”

  “I miss all of you, too. Let me make introductions. This is my boyfriend, Alex, our good friend Mitch, and my best friend, Lisa.” I caught movement behind him and said, “Party of six, Stephen. Entering now. They look front of restaurant to me.”

  “You can take the woman out of the restaurant, but you can’t take the restaurant out of the woman,” Alex said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Reflex.”

  “That’s why we miss her,” Stephen said. “Enjoy your meals. I’ll check in a bit later.”

  “I like him already,” Lisa said.

  “He was very kind to me,” I said. “He was a wonderful boss. And he knows everything about wine and food. I learned a lot while I was here.” I shrugged. “But I’m rattling. I’m just happy to be back, that’s all.”

  Alex squeezed my knee beneath the table. “I’m happy that you’re happy,” he said. “Anytime that you want to dart out back to say hello to your friends, I think all of us will understand.”

  And with that, I kissed him full on the cheek and told him that I loved him in his ear. “Our food isn’t here yet. Do you mind if I sneak back there now? They’re busy now, so I’ll take just a minute to say a quick hello.”

  “Go for it,” Alex said.

  I stood up and looked at Mitch. “You’ll entertain Lisa while I’m gone? And Alex, of course.”

  “I’ll entertain Lisa,” he said with a smile.

  He wasn’t joking. Eve
n after I came back, it was obvious that he intended to entertain her for the rest of the night. Though we all joined in mutual conversation, there were times when Lisa and Mitch drifted off into their own conversation. I watched my best friend laugh and flirt, and knew it was genuine. She didn’t tolerate fools. It was clear that she was having a good time, as was he.

  “Looks as if we’ve got something going on over here,” I said to Alex.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Who knew that a couple could be connected by their love of the undead?”

  * * *

  Later, after Mitch insisted that he pay the bill, which made me even fonder of him, we prepared to leave. Alex pulled out his cell and tapped a few numbers. Within moments, one member of his security detail discreetly entered the restaurant and stood by the door. The rest, I knew, were waiting outside for us.

  I gave Stephen a hug, said we’d be back to see him and the staff soon, and then steeled myself as we went out into the night.

  This stretch of West Forty-Fourth Street was ridiculously busy, not just because of the restaurant, but also because it housed the Algonquin Hotel to the right, and the Iroquois Hotel to the left. db Bistro was sandwiched between them. The Royalton Hotel was directly across the street, and the Sofitel Hotel was diagonally across from that. Adding to the chaos and the claustrophobic feel was that the street itself was only three lanes wide with parking on both sides, which essentially shrank the street down to one-and-a-half lanes. Cabs and cars all crowded around each other as they jostled for the opportunity to press forward.

  Many people were on the sidewalk. A young woman with her dog jogged past us with music—something by Madonna—blasting out of her earphones. An older man with a clip in his step snapped into his cell about how rotten his day had been. Bellhops were in the street hailing taxis.

  Alex’s team came up beside us and I could see his car double-parked ahead of us, which no one was having. Horns blared. People shouted from their cars to get it the hell out of their way.