by Lila Monroe
Vengeance first, orgasms later.
“OK,” I say aloud, looking up at the building. “Fuck, this is a nice place.”
“Doorman,” Jacob agrees. “Classic pre-war. Is your ex loaded or something?”
“Now he is,” I reply bitterly. “I got to help pay his way through law school working double shifts and living off ramen, but now it’s doormen and sushi all the way.”
“Sushi sucks,” Jacob says. “I mean, I know I’m supposed to like it, and I’ve tried, but you’re basically eating Nemo.”
I giggle. “Come on.” I start for the entrance, but he pulls me back.
“Wait, what if he’s home?”
I shake my head. “He’s off at some big party thrown by his firm. Open bar on a yacht on the Hudson. I thought we were going together. Why do you think I bought these shoes?”
“If it’s any consolation, they’re hot shoes.” Jacob glances down. “Very kinky.”
It is a consolation. I put a little extra swing in my hips as I open the door and stride across the marble lobby. I’m channeling every badass femme fatale I’ve ever seen. I’m Marilyn in The Seven Year Itch. Rita Hayworth in Gilda, I’m—
“Excuse me.” The doorman’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Which floor do you need?”
I turn, my mind racing. Shit, what do I say now?
But before I can blurt out a crappy excuse, Jacob speaks up smoothly. “Oh, hey brah. We’re with Todd? In three sixteen? Or is it seventeen? I don’t know man, I was wasted the last time we were by, you know how it is, right, brah?”
I blink. Is it just me, or is Jacob doing a stoned Keanu impersonation right now?
“Anyway, we’re crashing for the night. Todd said it was A-OK, and—oh, wait, he forgot to leave the keys, didn’t he?”
The doorman checks a file. “I don’t see anything here.”
“Shit man, is there any way you can let us up?” Jacob strolls over. “My lady’s ready to hit the hay, if you know what I mean.”
“I should really call Mr. Portman . . .”
“He’s out of range, I tried.” Jacob peels a twenty from his billfold and slides it over. “Hook a brother up?”
The guy pauses, then shrugs. “Fuck it, I’m just a temp.” He plucks some keys from a drawer and tosses them to Jacob. “I’ll need these back before morning or my boss will kill me,” he warns.
“Got it, brah.”
Jacob walks back, and hustles me into the elevator. “Peace out!” he calls, as the doors close.
“Holy shit!” I cry. “That was amazing.”
“Thank you, thank you very much.” Jacob grins.
“I didn’t even realize you spoke bro.”
“It’s universal, man.” The doors open, and we get off. I check the numbers, then find Todd’s apartment. Jacob opens the door, and we step inside.
“What. The. Fuck.”
I gasp. This is insane. The apartment is like five times the size of the shoebox we shared back in Williamsburg. Jacob lets out a whistle, looking around. “Your guy has style, I’ll give him that.”
“I don’t understand.” I look around. “This isn’t Todd at all.” The décor is uber-modern, with lots of really uncomfortable looking furniture that would probably look more at home in a mental hospital—or torture chamber. But the solid wall of windows in the living room more than make up for it, framing all of the twinkling lights of the city.
Suddenly, a tiny, shaggy grey-and-white Shih Tzu comes flying towards us on toothpick legs like one of the hounds of hell, sinking its razor sharp teeth into my ankle boot.
“What the fuck!” I yell out, shaking off the dog.
“Whoa, you didn’t say anything about a dog!” Jacob edges closer.
“I didn’t know he got one!” I lean down to inspect my ankle, making sure the skin is intact. The dog backs up, growling, its ears pinned to its tiny, demonic head. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“Easy there,” Jacob says, walking over and holding out his hand, holding it out for Cujo to sniff. “Down, boy.”
All of a sudden, it’s like the dog has multiple personality disorder—his eyes brighten and he begins humping Jacob’s leg furiously, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy in his little doggy skull.
Is it possible to be jealous of a tiny, psychotic dog? At least someone’s getting lucky tonight. He finally shakes the beast loose and he looks up at us, blinking with fierce doggy eyes, before running back into the depths of the apartment, his nails clattering on what looks like miles of honey-colored hardwood floors.
I let out a sigh of relief. “When the hell did he get a dog?”
“Um, something tells me it’s not his dog,” Jacob says, holding a photo from the cabinet. “And also, not his apartment.”
“What?”
I snatch the photo from his hand. It’s a framed print of a gorgeous blond girl, smiling and cuddling the dog against a mountain backdrop. I recognize her from one of the company cocktail parties, back when Todd actually took me to them instead of blowing me off, saying I’d be bored, and it was all work.
Harmony.
He moved in with fucking Harmony.
I look around again, and suddenly, it all makes sense. The perfect décor. The elegant lights and fresh flowers on the table, and the fact he didn’t want me dropping by to deliver his stuff in person.
“He moved in with her.”
Suddenly, my fight leaves me. I slump onto the nearest chair, not caring that it’s harder than steel. “I can’t believe it,” I say softly, looking around. “He didn’t even tell me. He just went straight from my bed to hers. And I thought we were in love.”
“Asshole,” Jacob says comfortingly. “I told you, it’s an illusion: romance, love—all of it. No one’s ever who you think they are. Especially women.”
“Ha!” I give a weak laugh. “Listen buddy, it’s not like women have some kind of exclusive market on being emotionally unavailable—men do just fine on that front too, believe me.” And looking around, I’ve got the evidence.
“And you know this from, what? One bad breakup and you’re the fucking Buddha? You’ve got all the answers?” He raises an eyebrow, and I either want to kiss or slap him, I don’t know which.
“No.” I try to hold back the tears. “Obviously I don’t. I mean, look at this. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. Who could blame him for upgrading?”
“Hey,” he scolds me. “Didn’t you tell me not to be a fucking pussy?”
I look up. “Don’t.” I shake my head. “That’s different.”
“To hell it’s different. You came here for revenge, so let’s fucking give it to him.”
“How?” I ask. “I don’t even know what to do right now.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve spent the last six months addicted to Reddit,” Jacob grins.
I frown. “Isn’t that full of internet fanboys and weird porn links?”
“Yeah, but also a message board where everyone shares their petty revenge schemes.” He smiles at me. “I’ve seen everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like . . . putting dog shit in all the air vents,” Jacob says, thinking hard. “Leaving the faucets running, since they’ll be out all night. Cutting a hole in the crotch of all his pants. Dialing an adult sex line and leaving the phone off the hook.”
He’s right. They are petty plans—and right now, they’re pretty damn tempting. Still, the sane, rational, sober brain cell left in my head hesitates. “Wouldn’t that just make me the crazy ex-girlfriend Todd gets to complain about to all his friends?”
“So what?” Jacob pulls me to my feet. “Fuck Todd.”
That sounds good.
“Fuck Todd,” I repeat.
“Atta girl.”
I look around, my anger returning. “Fuck Todd and his perfect new girlfriend and the fact they were clearly screwing behind my back for god knows how long. ‘We’ve just drifted apart. We want different things now. I swear there’s nobody else,’ �
� I mimic. “Fuck that bullshit!”
I remember Todd’s sincere apologies and cringe. I believed him, too. How much of a doormat was I?
“Where do we start?” Jacob asks.
I narrow my eyes. “The closets. He has a thing for designer suits.”
“Lead on!”
I head down a long hallway that must lead to the bedroom. “Bingo.” The only light in the room is coming from a crystal chandelier in the enormous walk in closet, where countless rows of shoes and designer handbags are lined up on shelves.
“Oh my god,” I moan, pulling out a sequined dress that looks more appropriately sized for a third grader than any kind of grown-ass woman. “Look at this. How does she eat?”
I pull a pair of jeans off a hanger and peer at the tag inside. “Size 0? How is that even possible? These would barely fit over one of my thighs, much less both.”
Jacob starts rifling through the drawers. He moves aside what looks like a pile of expensive lingerie, then pulls out a handful of what look like prescription pill bottles, holding them up triumphantly.
“Exhibit A: Adderall. It’s easy to fit a size zero when you never eat.” He tosses the pills over. I catch them, he’s right.
“How did you know?”
“Isabel’s the same.”
I snort. “I bet she is. Tell the truth, you’ve never dated a woman over a hundred pounds, have you?”
Jacob coughs, looking uncomfortable. “I like athletic women.”
I hoot with laughter. “Athletic is just shorthand for ‘skinny but does yoga once a week.’ Try again, mister.”
Jacob puts his hands up. “OK, OK, but I’m telling you, it gets pretty old after a while. I mean, sometimes you just want to go out and get a greasy burger from Shake Shack, right?”
I nod wordlessly. I love Shake Shack so much that they should probably erect a plaque there in my honor. Frozen custard is my life.
“It kind of takes all the fun out of it when your date’s glaring at you over her hot water and lemon, you know?”
“No, but I can certainly imagine.” I folded the jeans in half, putting them back on the hanger. “Though you certainly wouldn’t have that problem with me—Todd always said I should lose ten pounds, but I love food too much,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Well, we already know Todd’s a fucking moron.” He smiles, and it’s so charming, I wonder how Isabel could have walked away.
“How long did you date her?” I wonder aloud, watching him stride around like he owns the place, flipping on all of the lamps, bathing the room in light.
“Long enough to know better.” He heads into the en-suite master bath, and I follow, almost groaning aloud when I see the size of the soaking tub.
Hell, I’d fuck Harmony for a tub like that.
“What does that mean?” I try to focus.
He pauses before answering.
“It means that my head was telling me one thing and my dick another. Story of my life,” he says with a low chuckle. “It means that if I know what’s good for me, I should trust my head and ignore the fuck out of my heart.”
“Yeah,” I drawl, “that sounds like a great idea. Super practical.”
“You live, you learn.” He shrugs. “I’m guessing you won’t be leaping head over heels for the next guy who comes along, either.”
I pause. “I don’t know. I may be angry and bitter and heartbroken, but I still believe. In love. Eventually.”
“Good luck with that.” Jacob sounds skeptical, and I don’t want to get sucked into misery again, so I look around with new ambition.
“OK, we’re here. What first?”
Jacob hands me a pair of nail scissors from the armoire. “Go crazy.”
I take them and step into the closet, finding the rows of precious designer suits. Todd would fuss over them forever, insisting on having me schlep to the fancy dry cleaners ten blocks away instead of handing them off to Mrs. Lin across the street like normal. Now, I trail my fingers over the wool and imagine his face when he finds them shredded to bits.
Except . . .
Maybe all-out destruction isn’t the way to go here. Think sneaky, I tell myself, and get to work.
Five minutes later, I emerge to find Jacob on a stool in the living room, doing something to the curtains. “Mission accomplished?” he asks. The dog is panting at his feet like he worships the dude.
I know how he feels.
“Yup.” I beam. “I unpicked the seam in the ass of every pair of pants he owns. He won’t even notice until he’s at the office, and even then, he’ll just think he put on weight and split them himself.”
Jacob laughs. “Nice move.” He hops down and repositions the stool. “While you were busy, I decided to leave some gifts in the curtain rods.”
“What kind of gifts?”
“Frozen shrimp.” Jacob gives me a wicked grin, and maybe it’s the whiskey or the sweet, sweet scent of revenge, but he looks sexy as hell. “I found it in the freezer. I read about one girl who did it to her ex. It all started rotting but they couldn’t find the smell anywhere. In the end, they moved out—and took the curtain rods to the new place, too.”
I laugh and hold my hand up for a high five. “Any other genius ideas?”
“Well, there’s always the old ‘hair remover in the shampoo’ trick,” Jacob suggests. I guess he’s nothing if not resourceful. “My sister pulled it on her bitch of a roommate in college, says she nearly had a nervous breakdown.”
“You have a sister?” I realize I know absolutely nothing about this guy—except, of course, his taste in whiskey and petty revenge.
“Step,” he shrugs. “From my dad’s second marriage. She’s out in California, making YouTube kids into millionaires. And if there’s one thing she knows, it’s how to win. What do you say?”
I shake my head. “Petty, yes. Cruel, nope.” He looks surprised. I sigh. “I know Harmony’s a bitch who screwed my boyfriend, but I like to think Karma will deal with her in the end.”
“Your call,” Jacob says. “But we should probably get going before the bro downstairs realizes what a mistake he made.”
“Let’s do it.” I take a last look around at the life Todd chose over me. Over us. Cold and clinical and so perfect you could never relax. “He’s welcome to it.”
Jacob heads for the door, but I can’t resist one final “fuck you.” I turn on the faucet in the kitchen and let it run quietly as we let ourselves out. If they don’t make it back until dawn, they’re going to find a whole lot of water damage in the carpets.
“Enjoy spending your bonus on that, asshole.” I shut the door behind me with a smile and head to the elevator. We’re heading back down when the exhilaration hits me. “Oh my god, what did we just do? I’m a criminal!”
“Minor vandalism,” Jacob reassures me.
“No, I mean, this is awesome!” I smile at him, my pulse racing. “I’ve never done anything like this. I can’t believe it!”
Before I can think twice, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you!” I exclaim. “That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”
He laughs and sets me back on the ground. “Then your ex is even more useless than I thought,” he says with a smoldering look.
Our eyes catch, and bam, that heat surges through me again.
Hello, lover.
I flush. What did I say before? Vengeance first, orgasms later. Well, now we’re right on schedule . . .
DING!
The doors open, and I stop, startled. Jacob peers out. “All clear, come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. We race across the lobby, and thankfully, the doorman is nowhere to be seen.
Freedom!
I stumble through the revolving doors and out into the freezing air. He magically hails another cab, and we fall in. “Where to?” the cabbie asks.
Jacob meets my gaze. He lifts an eyebrow. “Seems a shame to cut the night short,” he says casually. “I live nearby, if you want another drink.
”
A drink. A kiss. A night of earth-shattering pleasure. Sure, sign me up.
“OK,” I shrug, acting just as nonchalant. “Why not?”
He leans forward and says something to the driver, and then we’re moving off. My heart is still racing, and I can’t stop imagining Todd’s face when he finds all the little gifts we left. “Thank you,” I tell Jacob, feeling a wash of gratitude.
“What for?”
“That, back there. I never would have done any of it without you.”
He laughs. “Don’t tell that to the cops.”
My jaw drops open. “Whoa,” Jacob says quickly. “I’m kidding. They won’t call the cops. At least, I don’t think so.”
“OK.” I take a deep breath. Sure, I’m not exactly living my dream life working retail and struggling to pay the bills, but a conviction would pretty much screw my chances of ever making my dreams come true. “We’re just going to pretend everything’ll work out fine. I really don’t look good in orange.”
He laughs. “I don’t know about that. You would look good in anything.”
I gulp, feeling a tingle all the way through me. “You’re pretty smooth, aren’t you?”
He grins. “And you’re pretty drunk.”
I shake my head. “Not anymore. I guess breaking and entering sobers you up pretty well.”
“Good to know.” Jacob gives me another wolfish look, and I squirm. When did he get so sexy? I wonder. I’m pretty sure back at the bar he was a seven, but now . . . ?
Now I want to strip him naked right in the middle of Times Square.
Luckily, I don’t have to. The cab pulls up, and Jacob pays him while I get out and look around. “Umm, Jacob?” I ask. We’re on a dark street with weird industrial-looking buildings. I thought Della was the one who might wake up in a dumpster, but now I’m reassessing my odds.
“Trust me,” Jacob says, taking my hand. And even though I don’t really have a reason, somehow, I do. I follow him to one of the doorways and wait while he taps in a security code. He holds the door for me. “Home sweet home.”
