“Look-,” I began.
“Please,” she begged.
I felt like an ass, and I didn’t like feeling like an ass. No, it wasn’t my fault she couldn’t let it go. Damn my mother and her bleeding heart. “You should consider yourself lucky that you’re not in a relationship with me. I’m a dick. I’m always working. I don’t remember birthdays or anniversaries. I even forgot Christmas last year.”
“I’m sorry for you,” she blurted out.
“What?” I almost dropped my drink on the floor.
“I said, I’m sorry for you,” she yelled furiously. For the first time since I met her, she sounded like a real person instead of a wannabe Marilyn Monroe. “I’m a nice person, and I have a lot to offer, but you won’t let me into your life. I bet you meet a lot of nice girls. You’ve, um, met at least two of my friends. And that’s just recently.”
I grimaced. Women talked too much.
“You have all these bullshit excuses for why all you can do is hook up and move on. You’ll never know what a good person I am.”
I got undressed. “I really am very busy.”
“Oh, I know you’re very busy. You’re a big deal.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice.
This was getting boring. I would give one last try for our families’ sake. “You wouldn’t be happy with me, Bridget. I wasn’t kidding when I said that. It’s not just a line.”
“You can’t be happy, either. Nobody’s happy when the closest relationship in their life is with their assistant.”
“Right well. Thanks for calling.” I had to hang up then, or else I would have said something to really piss her off. “Sorry, mother,” I muttered and blocked her number.
I walked back into the sitting room and dropped down on the sofa. I picked up the remote and thought of Mimi asking me how much the TV cost and grinned to myself.
It was strange sitting there alone when I knew she was on the other side of the floor. All I had to do was go over there and knock on the door and I could have her. Then again, there was a good chance she was puking her guts up by now. Not sexy.
I thought about the jackass who’d cheated on her. She didn’t know it, but that was a lucky escape. I raised my glass in a silent toast to the chicken shit, whoever he was for dropping her. He deserved to be tied down with a screaming brat. Idiot.
I watched some TV, but I was distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the chick next door. How unfortunate that she was my neighbor. Restless, I roamed my apartment. I even thought about visiting my favorite lounge, I didn’t have the heart to get dressed and go out again. Finally, I decided to turn in early. Definitely not the way I usually spent a Monday, or any night.
As I leaned over in my king size bed to turn off the bedside lamp, something funny happened. I remembered that only a wall separated me from the beauty next door and it gave me an instant erection. Her mouth was so soft and voluptuous. And that amazing ass. Round and full and…
Stop it, Max. Stop it.
I was wired and wide awake. I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of something else. With any luck, I wouldn’t see her again.
Mimi
My first conscious thought on waking was the most fervent wish that I could just die and get it over with. My head was throbbing like there was a woodpecker in it. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, but it already felt like the rays of sunshine coming through my bedroom window were trying to kill me. Why the hell hadn’t I closed the blinds? Why was drunk me so stupid?
I pulled the blanket over my head, but that wasn’t helpful since it meant having to smell my own breath, which was rank. I vaguely remembered throwing up twice during the night, and not having the will to brush my teeth. I made an opening for my breath to escape, hoping I’d at least reached the bathroom both times. I thought I had, but who knew? Maybe drunk me had decided to leave a surprise for poor, hungover me.
That was bad until I remembered my trip to Max’s apartment. A whole other level of pain hit me.
“No. No. No,” I groaned, whimpering a little from the pain in my head and in my heart. What was I thinking? Oh, right. I was thinking how hot he was, and how much I hated Josh.
What must he think of me? I could only imagine. Little snippets of our conversation came back making me cringe with shame. I was such a mess the entire time. Thank God, the Super had come when he did, or who knew where I’d be waking up—or where I would have thrown up. No way a make-out session like that one would have ended in anything but wild sex. I would have thrown up in his bed, on his body. Oh, God. It didn’t bear thinking about.
I hated wine. I would never drink wine again. Wine was poor decision juice. Bad, bad wine.
No way I could make it to work, especially with the thought of seeing Josh. When I was free from the clutches of impending death, I would have to give a lot of thought to how to move forward. In the meantime, I fumbled around for my phone, grabbed it and pulled it under the blanket with me. Dialing Tracee, I left a mumbled message for her that included something about my stomach, feeling sick, and coming in tomorrow. The less detail, the better. Only people who were lying left lengthy messages.
I decided to venture out of bed a couple of hours later, after waking for the second time. I didn’t feel much better, but I didn’t feel any worse. It was a good first step. And no nasty surprises from drunk me. An excellent second step.
Once I got moving and decided my head was not, in fact, about to fall off, horror spread through me again as my behavior with Max last night worked its way into my thoughts again. I couldn’t shake the memory of that…that kiss.
Actually, I don’t even know if you can call what happened just a kiss. Even in my state of total misery, the memory of the way his lips felt on mine was clear—and even a little bit of a turn-on.
I guess he had had a lot of practice. His technique was smooth, sexy, and so intensely masculine, he just about melted my panties clean off. I could imagine women throwing themselves at him. I didn’t want to be just another one of those women. But I was.
Because if what I did wasn’t throwing myself at him, I didn’t know what was. I held my head in my hands, sitting on the edge of my tub as I waited for it to fill.
“I climbed onto his lap,” I moaned to nobody in particular. “I tried to hump him. Oh, God.”
But God wouldn’t help me. God was too busy shaking His head in disappointment. It wasn’t my fault. It was the wine’s fault. And Josh’s, since he was the reason wine and I got together in the first place.
As I soaked in silky bubbles, I imagined seeing Max again and barely managed to keep from drowning myself. No way. I couldn’t put myself through that kind of humiliation.
“He probably thinks I’m a slut,” I muttered miserably.
Well, his opinion is probably no better than it had been before. I vaguely remembered him giving some kind of explanation that he was lost in his own thoughts most of the time, but somehow, I didn’t buy it. He was not lost in his thoughts. He was deliberately unfriendly to me, so it was not like I’d fallen far in his estimation. That was cold comfort, but it was the closest thing to comfort I had.
“Damn, Josh,” I cursed aloud.
And I had ugly cried. Ugh! Stupid me. Then I remembered that Max had tried to comfort me. He had been nice, hadn’t he? I wasn’t misremembering it. At least, I didn’t think so. I’d sure as hell never ask him face-to-face. There was only so much humiliation a girl could take.
I soaked in the tub until my skin pruned. By the time I got out, I felt a lot better—physically, at least. Mentally, on the other hand, all I could do was worry about what to say to Max when we ran into each other again. That was inevitable and I might as well prepare for it. I would thank him, of course, because he’d taken care of me. I owed him for that.
Maybe I could wear a bag over my head while I thanked him since I couldn’t imagine looking him in the eye and I was sure my face would turn tomato red. Maybe a letter! That was it. I breathed a sigh of relief.
&
nbsp; I would write a “thank you” letter. No, I would buy a card. And I’d thank him that way and slide it under his door. No. In his mailbox. That way, I wouldn’t face humiliation if he happened to be on the other side of the door. Yes. Perfect solution.
When I walked out into the living room, my thoughts had moved from Max to the idea of breakfast. My stomach was still all sorts of messed up, thanks to the wine, but everybody who’d ever had a hangover knew that greasy food was the best solution. It didn’t help that somebody nearby was cooking something that smelled incredible.
Then, I froze in place. Wait a minute. I didn’t have any neighbors except for Max. No way could I smell cooking smells from other buildings. I tiptoed to the front door, sniffing the air. Sure enough, the smell got stronger the closer I got. What the heck?
I peered out the peephole, but the hallway was empty. Finally, I dared open the door, and what I found made my mouth drop open in surprise. On the floor, in a box, was a mouth-wateringly good hangover-breakfast-in-a bun that the Deli nearby specializes in, a liter bottle of water and a large cup of coffee.
I looked up and down the hall, but of course, Max was nowhere to be found. The big bun and the coffee were still hot, too. Hmmm…I wondered how he knew. My bath did make a horrible glugging sound whenever I unplugged it.
Mimi
The next day I bought a cute thank you card with a bashful bear holding a bunch of flowers on it and dropped it into his mailbox. I never heard or saw him. I was also gratified to note there were no more sexual noises coming from the other side of the wall. He had either moved his bed, or he hadn’t brought anyone home. For reasons unknown, I found myself hoping it was the second option.
The first day back at work was the hardest, but I realized all I had to do to carry on as normal was keep away from Josh altogether. I found I had a great talent for it. In fact, it was quite amazing how many excuses I came up with to avoid him. I’d even started wearing headphones at my desk, just so the sound of his voice didn’t turn my stomach. What a shame I couldn’t get paid for avoiding Josh.
Incredible to think that there was a time when I was a master at inventing reasons to visit his office. How much effort I used to put into it. Dropping off papers, printing out reports rather than emailing them, even carrying random file folders into his lair just so I’d have an excuse if anybody saw me walking in.
Every time it had gotten to be a little much throughout the week, I’d remind myself that brunch at Megan’s was only days away. It would just be the two of us and a couple of her friends from work. Nice girls who sort of drifted in and out of our weekly tradition depending on their plans. It was one of my constants, a way to decompress after a long week. And if there had ever been a long one, this was it.
I woke up on Saturday morning and felt pleased with myself. I had survived a whole working week and to be honest, it had not been too difficult. My work performance had not suffered either. In fact, Tracee had complimented me on one of my reports. In my mind, Josh had already become history.
Dressing in a white sweater, white jeans, and a dainty pair of pink butterfly sandals, I set off for the bakery around the corner from me.
“I’ll have that coffee cake, please,” I said, pointing to the last cake in the glass case. Thank God, I’d come in when I did because at least fifteen people had come up behind me to join the queue. No way would the bakery’s legendary coffee not been snapped up by the time the line cleared up, not on a Saturday morning, anyway. I’d be the heroine of our brunch at Megan’s.
I watched the girl behind the counter carefully put the cake into their distinctive purple box. A couple of moist, golden brown crumbs that were stuck to the utensil she used to move the cake dropped to the counter and lay there. Seductively. As if they were daring me to lick them off. This was cake porn at its finest. The girl, who was obviously a monster, wiped the lovely crumbs off with a dishcloth.
I transferred my lust to the cake in the box. It looked so good for a whole second I considered taking it home and having it all for myself. It would be worth the hours of toil at the gym as penance, not to mention Megan’s disappointment. I watched the woman close the box and tie a purple ribbon around it.
Just then, as though Megan had read my mind, she texted me.
You’d better bring that coffee cake, lady. I swear I’ll come around and search your apartment for it if you tell me they’ve run out.
Oh, well. There went that idea. I replied:
Got the last one! You may start raising money for the statue in my honor.
Carrying the bakery box by the ribbon, I elbowed my way to the door. Already, I was scanning the street for an available cab through the store’s plate-glass windows. On a chilly Saturday morning, it usually wasn’t easy to find one. We were in that time of year when nobody was quite used to the cooler temperatures yet and wanted to get into a warm car as quickly as possible. If we got to sixty degrees in January, on the other hand, the sidewalk would be thick with people jogging in t-shirts and shorts. Funny how that worked.
I looked down the length of the crowded street, hoping to spot a cab when my heart started fluttering. I recognized the dark hair, square jaw, and the broad shoulders. He seemed to leap out from the sea of mere mortals he walked among.
Oh shit!
I had, through a carefully thought-out schedule, managed to avoid running into him at our building, but of course, I would have to meet him on the street with a million other people. Just my luck.
Still, there was no guarantee he had noticed me. I was one of dozens of people on the sidewalk. I decided to play it off like I hadn’t noticed him as if I had way too many things on my mind to see him. Even if he was easily the most glorious thing in my line of sight. I kept walking, head held high as I scanned the street for a cab, still holding onto my coffee cake. Nobody could say my priorities weren’t intact.
“Mimi!”
I froze in horror. That wasn’t the voice I had expected to hear. All of a sudden, I realized Max was the least of my worries. I turned to find Josh striding toward me, an idiotic smile on his face. How could I ever have thought he was handsome? Oh, God, I actually slept with him. I needed to have my head examined.
With him was a tall glamazon of a woman, her face half-concealed by huge designer sunglasses. Her golden hair sparkled in the sun, and her clothing screamed ‘I paid a small fortune for this’. She had one hand possessively curled round his arm. She could only be one person.
Unless I was willing to risk jumping into traffic as both Max and my ex along with his pregnant girlfriend, closed in on me from either side, there was just nowhere to run. My brain screamed in desperation.
“Mimi.” Josh reached me, still smiling. To my shock and surprise, Lillian was smiling as well. Broadly too, I might add.
“Hi,” I croaked. Why was she smiling? She thought I was a slut. The text of her email was burned into my poor brain forever. I’d never forget the feeling of her hatred coming through the screen at me. Yet there she was, beaming at me.
What if she was just trying to catch me off-guard? What if she took a swing at me? I couldn’t hit a pregnant woman. Maybe I could offer her my coffee cake as a gesture of peace. No. Not the cake.
Josh put a hand on my arm. I told myself the burning sensation was just my imagination. The violent need to slap it off was not, though. I shook his hand off and took a step back.
“How are you? I’ve hardly seen you around the office these last few days,” he boomed.
Are you insane? Are you literally crazy? Either that or it was me. I had dreamed the entire, crazy situation. How else could I explain away the warm, friendly, oblivious vibes I was picking up from the two of them?
“Listen,” he continued, smiling adoringly at Lillian before turning back to me again. “You’re one of the first to know. We got engaged and we’re having our engagement party at the St. Regis in three weeks. You’d better be there.” He laughed. “Or be square.”
I blinked. What had I e
ver done to deserve this?
For her part, Lillian grinned like a cat that got the whole tub of cream and held up her left hand. Sure enough, there was a medium-sized diamond on her wiggling ring finger.
It was a nightmare. That was it. I was having a nightmare and in a few seconds, I’d look down and find out I wasn’t wearing clothes. And everybody would point and laugh at me.
That had to be it. Nothing else made sense.
I was facing my ex and the woman he’d cheated on with me, and they were both smiling and inviting me to their goddamned engagement party. Why wouldn’t I wake up already?
I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice cut me off.
Mimi
“We’d love to be there. Consider us a definite yes.” With that, Max snaked an arm around my waist, pulled me tight against his body, and proceeded to crush my mouth in a long and passionate kiss. My knees went weak and I couldn’t help my body from responding. Hormones were rushing around madly in my blood stream when he lifted his head and looked deep into my eyes. I stared back helplessly. After that lingering look, which I was completely unable to break, he turned to smile at Josh and Lillian.
I dared a look at Josh, my head still reeling from Max’s sudden appearance and that kiss! I was glad for his arm around my waist, or I might have fallen to the ground. I was even quite shocked I had managed to hang on to the cake. The expression on my ex-boyfriend’s face was priceless. If I had to describe it, “speechless shock and horror” would have been what I would have gone for.
“Uh…er…hi. Josh Williams.” He held out his hand towards Max.
Max accepted it with a smile that reminded me of a shark. “Max Black.” He looked down at me indulgently. “Is this the Josh from work you told me about?”
Kissing Booth Page 21
