by Brent, Amy
The knocking continued, and my frustration grew. For the love of fuck, I was going to have to draw a line with them. I heard Ava pad out of the room behind me, and I turned my head, my eyes bulging when I saw what she was wearing. She had on nothing but her panties and my button-down shirt. Her hair was a tousled mess on top of her head and her eyes were still full of sleep. She smiled at me before she ducked into my kitchen, and I heard her rummaging around, taking to herself and apparently planning out a breakfast she was going to cook.
“Eggs. Coffee. Where’s the milk?”
“Back of the fridge,” I said as my hand came down on my doorknob.
“Thanks!” she called out.
“Not a prob—”
I had opened the door and come face to face the harsh green eyes of my ex. Camilla was standing at my door.
“What? Did you forget I was dropping by after work for my things?” she asked.
“Yes. Damn, I did forget you were coming by,” I said.
“Well, I can make it quick. Let me just slip in—”
I stepped to the side, blocking her from getting into my apartment.
“Why didn’t you call first?” I asked.
“When have I ever had to call?” she asked.
“When we were dating you didn’t have to. We’re not dating anymore, so you do.”
“I confirmed with you last night that I was coming over to get my things.”
“No, you didn’t. Maybe you talked with your boss instead. You sure as hell didn’t talk with me.”
“You knew I was coming. Look, I’ll pull up the texts.”
I watched her sift through her phone as my eyes slowly eased over my shoulder.
“Okay. Fine. It was two days ago, not last night, but still, I’m here, and I want my things,” Camilla said.
“You can come back later,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me before she tried to push through, but I wasn’t letting her in. This situation was quickly going south, and I had to figure out a way to do damage control.
“What are you hiding?” she asked.
“Everything, since I’m no longer in a position where I feel the need to share it with you,” I said.
“You’re hiding something you don’t want me to know.”
“Of course I am. You’re my ex, Camilla. That’s how it works.”
“Why did you want me to call first? Why aren’t you letting me in?”
“It’s none of your damn business, especially since you cheated on me with your boss.”
“Are we still on that? Really?”
“We’ll always be on it, Camilla.”
“It’s time for you to move on, Logan. I’m happy. You should be happy, too. Isn’t that the reason you broke things off with me anyway?” she asked.
“I broke things off with you because you were apparently under the assumption that I’d be okay with you screwing around with your boss for a pay raise. But that isn’t really why you started messing around with him, is it?” I asked.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You were seeing him weeks before I got suspicious, weren’t you?”
“Move. I want my things now.”
“Not until you answer my question,” I said.
“I want my fucking things now, Logan. Get out of my way!”
Camilla shoved her way past me, and I reached out to grab her arm. Fuck. I didn't know what the hell was about to happen, but I knew it wasn’t good. She spun around and brought her hand down on my wrist, then pressed down so hard it took me by surprise. My grip on her loosened, and she slid from my grasp and started into my condominium.
“Do you still have my favorite coffee mug? Or did you throw that—”
Dead silence fell over my place as I slowly made my way into the kitchen, dreading what was about to happen. Camilla’s eyes were wide in surprise. I stood in the doorway and saw Ava standing there, her jaw open and her body clad in nothing but her panties and my clothes.
“What the fuck is this?” Camilla asked.
“Not what it looks like,” Ava said.
“What the fuck is this!?” Camilla roared.
She lunged at Ava and fisted my shirt, trying to tug it off her body.
“Camilla, cut it out,” I said.
“Camilla, stop!” Ava exclaimed.
“Why the hell are you wearing his shirt, Ava?”
“I swear to you, this isn’t what it looks like. This didn’t start the way you think it did,” Ava said.
“Really? Is that so? Because it looks like you started fucking my ex after I trashed him! Holy shit, Ava, you're not a virgin anymore.”
“What?” Ava asked.
“Oh. My. Fucking. Hell. You lost your virginity to my ex, Ava. Damn it! How pathetic are you?” Camilla screamed.
“I heard you, Cam.” Ava’s voice was so soft, it stopped Camilla in her tracks. “I heard you say that Logan was the one who broke it off with you at the door. Why did you lie to me about that? Did you really think I would judge you or something?” Ava asked.
“Seriously? You’re talking to me about lying when you’re the one standing in my ex-boyfriend’s damn shirt, Ava?”
“Let’s sit down and talk, okay? I’ve got coffee on and I’m going to make some eggs—”
“I don’t want your fuck food, Ava!”
“Camilla, tone it down or you’re gone,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I was gone a long time ago. And you’re right. I was fucking my boss weeks before I came clean to you. He can provide me with the kind of life you never could. And, Ava? You can have my sloppy seconds. I hope you enjoy being controlled and manipulated and commanded by a man who can’t even pay for a damn shopping trip,” Camilla hissed.
“Cam, wait!”
My ex stormed by me with Ava on her heels. I whipped around, unable to process what was happening, much less figure out what the hell I was supposed to be doing. Camilla stormed out of my condo without any of her things and slammed the door behind her, right in Ava’s face.
The hurt that poured over Ava’s features broke my heart.
“Ava, why don’t I finish making breakfast and—”
“I have to go,” she said. Her voice was so meek, so light, so breathless. It made my heart ache for her.
“Don’t leave. Let’s just calm down and have some coffee and—”
“I really have to go,” she whispered.
With watering eyes and trembling hands, she brushed past me and headed for my bedroom. Like lightning, she changed, and less than a minute later she strode out of my place in her heels with her purse over her shoulder. All I could do was stand there and watch helplessly. I wanted to pursue her, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. I wanted to grab her arm and tell her to stay, tell her to talk with me. To settle down with me on the couch and at least get her bearings before she tried to drive. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She wanted to leave, so I wouldn't stop her.
My only hope was that this wasn’t the end.
My only hope was that I would be able to see Ava again.
Ava
I tried calling Camilla again on her cell phone, but this time it shot me straight to her voice mail. No ringing, no silencing my call. Just straight to voice mail without so much as a ring. She had turned off her phone and now I had no way of getting in touch with her. I had no way of speaking with my best friend.
This was a girl I’d known since childhood, the person in my life who had known me the longest aside from my parents. And she wouldn't return my phone calls. She wouldn’t pick up. I couldn't ruin our friendship over some guy. I would not let that happen. I’d take Camilla over Logan any day. And I knew once I sat her down and explained to her how things with Logan and I had begun, we’d be laughing about it and she’d be high-fiving me for losing my virginity. That was how Camilla was. I would give her all the juicy details and she’d be reveling in the stories before too long.
As long as she could set aside t
he fact that it was Logan.
I tried her cell phone again and left another voice message. I had no idea if she was getting them. I was tired, defeated, and lost. I’d spent the rest of the day Saturday and all Sunday morning trying to get in touch with her. Logan had tried calling me a couple times as well. But I couldn’t bring myself to take his calls. Every time I saw his name pop up on my phone, it filled me with guilt.
And wonder.
I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with Camilla over some guy, but I knew deep down that Logan wasn’t simply some guy. He was special, beautiful, kind, romantic, and respectful. He had boundaries and morals and an ethical code that he lived by. He was a business owner and seemed to have a great respect for his mother. I liked that, a son who took care of his mother. It meant he had been raised with a strong sense of responsibility to protect the women around him.
Like he had tried to protect me when he kept stepping in front of Camilla.
Closing my eyes, I sat on the edge of my bed. My mind ripped me back into the other night, how amazing it had felt to be in his arms and how right it had felt to sit in his lap and rock myself to my unending pleasure. And waking up against him… I shivered at the memory, at his chiseled arms wrapped around me and his meaty thighs clinging to my leg as it pressed between his knees, the way he sniffed my hair and refused to untangle himself from my tresses. Every movement I made, he had copied, like his body hadn’t wanted to unravel from mine.
I’d never felt like that before.
Being with him like that had felt so right, and that was all the more reason to talk with Camilla. I needed to speak with her before I ever saw or spoke to Logan again, which meant that until I could get her on the phone, I had to keep ignoring him. The very thought made me sick.
He deserved better than that, better than all this drama that came with me. Part of me wanted to call him up and tell him we couldn't see one another again. My heart couldn’t handle it, though, and I knew the second I heard his voice, I’d be done for. I’d go tripping back into his arms and falling into his bed and waking up tangled around him, without a care in the world as to what it did to Camilla.
Despite the fact that she didn’t have a leg to stand on.
My phone rang out in my hand, and I immediately answered it. I knew who it was. Camilla was the only person in my phone with a separate ringtone. I drew in a deep breath as I held my phone to my ear, trying to keep my tears at bay while my heart slowed down.
“Hey there,” I said.
“You keep calling?” she asked flatly.
“Can we meet for lunch? Please? I’ll pay for whatever you want. Just sit down and talk with me.”
“Fine. I figured you were calling to ask that anyway.”
“Thank you, Camilla. Thank you so much. Where would you like to go? I’ll take you anywhere.”
“There’s that new French place that opened up downtown. Du Pont something or other.”
“I know what you’re talking about. That’s one of those pricey places with small plates, though. You sure that’ll fill you up?”
“You said I could go anywhere. Was that a lie, too?”
“No, Camilla, geez. Okay. Yes. That’s where we’ll go,” I said.
“Meet you there in fifteen minutes. Can you go on ahead and order me a glass of wine along with an appetizer? Something with duck or whatever.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that. See you in fifteen?”
“Yep.”
She hung up the phone, and I raced to gather my things. I didn’t care how I looked. I didn’t care that I was about to walk into one of the premier French restaurants in Manhattan in leggings and a tunic. All I cared about was sitting down with my best friend and airing out the laundry between us. She was my best friend, my confidant, the person I trusted the most.
I needed her in my life.
“Two glasses of red wine and your smoked duck on toast, please?”
“Are you waiting for someone else?” the waiter asked.
“Yes, sir. She’s going to want a glass of red wine, on the sweeter side if you have it.”
“Of course. I’ll pick you both out a fine glass. Take your time looking over the menu. I’ll get your appetizer put in.”
“Thank you so much.”
My glass of wine came, and I held it in my trembling hands. I quickly drank it down before ordering a refill, hoping the alcohol would relax me. This conversation would make or break us. I knew it. I had a feeling in my bones. I kept checking my phone, counting down the minutes until she got here.
But fifteen minutes quickly came and went.
“Your appetizer,” the waiter said.
“Thank you so much.”
“Any word on your friend?”
“She’s just running a little late. I’ll wait to order until she gets here.”
“Of course. If I can get you anything, let me know.”
“I appreciate it,” I said.
Fifteen minutes turned into thirty, and thirty minutes turned into an hour. I shot Camilla a text message as panic flooded my veins. Was she all right? Had she been in an accident? Had something come up? Maybe she had tried to go back over to Logan’s to get her stuff and was running behind? I thought about calling him to see if she was there, but if she wasn’t, that would start a conversation with him about why I was wondering. Which meant I’d have talk to him. Which meant I’d grow weak to him again.
I picked at the appetizer, leaving some for Camilla as it grew cold. It was fantastic, something I knew she would love. I finished off my second glass of wine and felt the alcohol coursing through my veins.
“Would you care for another glass?” the waiter asked.
I nodded, and he poured me a third glass as I stared at Camilla’s empty seat. I checked my phone and watched as it ticked over another minute. An hour and a half. I’d been sitting in the middle of a French restaurant for an hour and a half waiting for her. I sighed with frustration as I dialed her number. Something had to be wrong. Camilla didn’t do this kind of thing to people.
Then my conversation with Logan flashed through my mind. He had mentioned Camilla giving him a time and a place before not showing up.
“Shit,” I whispered.
I held my phone to my ear after dialing her number, and it rang twice before it got shot to voice mail. I hung up and immediately called back, listening as it rang once before going to voice mail again. I wasn’t playing this game. She was going to pick up the phone and own up to her actions. I downed my third glass of wine in frustration as I redialed her number, but this time it simply rolled her voice in my ear.
It didn’t even fucking ring.
She was standing me up, just like she had Logan. But not only had she stood me up; she’d left me with a bill. It wasn’t enough for her to stand me up, she had to have me order for us so she knew I would be spending money on a trip she didn’t make. It was as if my best friend had become unrecognizable. I didn’t know what kind of person she had turned into. I set my empty wine glass down and grabbed hers, then finished off the cold appetizer in front of me.
“Would you care for anything else while you wait?” the waiter asked.
“Looks like my friend isn’t coming and I’m going to need something to soak up this wine,” I said.
Sympathy poured over the waiter’s face as he nodded.
“Sweet or savory?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Then why don’t we do both? I’ll have the chef whip you up something original. Our chef enjoys it when he gets to experiment.”
“Sure. Why not?” I asked.
The waiter removed the plate, the glass, and the menus. And to add fuel to the fire, he removed Camilla’s place setting. My blood boiled with anger. She had no right. No right whatsoever to put me in this position. But even as angry and betrayed as I was feeling, the overwhelming summary of my conflicting emotions was confusion.
I didn’t recognize the person Camilla had turned into, and I wondere
d where the hell my lifelong friend had vanished to.
Logan
“Here is what we’ve found so far. The company suing you is, in fact, about to file for bankruptcy. They’ve already begun the process. In their history, none of these requests for money or financial stipulations had been brought up against other people until after that bankruptcy paperwork was filed,” Ralph said.
“Wait a second. So you’re telling me that this company is just going around to people they paid money to and trying to figure out how to get it back?” Ava asked.
“Yes, by using loopholes in their contracts. At least that’s the assumption. We don’t have proof of the contracts yet. What we do have proof of, Miss Leary, is the fact that none of these financial concerns or the desire to acquire refunds from other institutions they utilized began until the preliminary filing of this paperwork,” Ralph said.
“That’s insane. Is that enough to hold up in court?” Ava asked.
“We’d have to prove the theory solid and without a shadow of a doubt,” I said.
Ava’s eyes flickered over to mine before she went right back to speaking with Ralph. I couldn't blame her, not after the weekend we had experienced. But I couldn't stop staring at her. The way she had stepped up after her boss had turned pale and essentially zoned out of the conversation made her even more mesmerizing. It was as if she was taking this more seriously than her own manager, or whoever the hell Mr. Craven was. We hadn’t spoken to one another since Saturday morning, and she hadn’t taken any of my calls over the course of Sunday afternoon.
I was dying to know how she was doing. I wanted to speak with her, to sit her down and have a real conversation with her. I wanted to know if she was thinking about me the way I’d been thinking about her. I wanted to know if I was anywhere near as irresistible to her as she was to me, if she dreamed about me the way I dreamed of her. I wanted to know if she had woken up Sunday morning wanting to be in my arms. I sure as hell had wanted her there.
“So, where do we go from here? What’s the next step?” Ava asked.
“Right now we wanted to let you both know that this is the only plausible theory worth pursuing. None of the other theories checked out, though another could potentially be argued in court,” Ralph said.
