The "it's not you, it's me" speech flew through my brain, which was accurate, but mostly I just didn't know what to say. When he knocked quickly on my door and walked in, my stomach started churning in a grotesque and nauseating way. I really didn't want to hurt him.
"Hi gorgeous," he said as he walked slowly to me. He looked good in a deep blue dress shirt that made his blue eyes stand out. His cheeks were red from the cold outside, giving him a sweet appearance that contrasted sharply with his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He had to lean down to kiss my cheek since he was at least a half a head taller than me. When I stiffened, he noticed and pulled away quickly.
He looked me in the eye for a moment before taking a step back and folding his arms across his chest. "So this is it then?" I bit my bottom lip, and he tilted his head to the side, a sad smile on his lips. "I won't lie. I had hoped this—" He waved his hand between us. "Thing we had going on here would lead to more—that it would make you feel more for me, but—" He turned his back to me and ran his hand through his short, dark blond hair.
"I'm sorry, Alvin. I just don't—that's just not—I—" I very nearly gave in and said we should continue seeing each other. I hated making people unhappy even if it meant I was unhappy myself. And Alvin really didn't deserve to be hurt.
"It's okay. I know. You don't feel that way for me."
I felt even more awful. Here I was breaking off a relationship I had taken advantage of—and I really had. I'd known all along that he wanted a true relationship with me, not just sex, but I let it happen because I was selfish and lonely, and I didn't want to see the sad look on his face that I was seeing now. And he was such a freaking nice guy that he was trying to make it easy on me. Guilt ate away at the insides of my stomach.
I looked up at him, trying to show him just how sincere I was through my eyes. "I really didn't mean to—to use you. I'm so sor—"
He turned around, a partial smile on his face that completely didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, I have zero regrets about being used by you." He looked around my apartment. "I don't regret the couch, the kitchen counter, the table—"
"Alvin!" I smacked his arm and shook my head.
"You're welcome to use me like that any time." He winked at me, and I couldn't control the blush that I felt creeping up my cheeks. "I can't say I'm not disappointed, but it's not the end of the world. I'll live."
"You're the best guy I know, Alvin. You deserve to find someone amazing."
"Mmm, I already did." When I tilted my head and felt my eyes get misty, he slapped me lightly in the arm and turned away. "Let's go make Annalisa feed us. I bet you haven't eaten anything."
"You—you still wanna have lunch with me?" He was far too nice.
Even his fake smile faded. "You aren't breaking off our friendship are you?"
I smiled a little—a genuine smile of relief and gratefulness. "No, I don't want to lose you—as a friend."
His features relaxed again. "Okay then, I'm starving. Just let me use your restroom real quick, and we'll head out."
I grabbed for my jacket as he walked down the hallway. I still didn't feel good about the entire situation, but I felt a little more optimistic about the possibility of remaining friends. I really didn't want to lose him, it just wasn't fair for me to keep leading him on. His niceness about the whole thing didn't do much to make me feel better about the gossip I'd heard from the old bitties that morning either. Maybe I was running a brothel, and I was the star employee. Not to say I slept around. I really and truly did not, but I'd certainly slept with a guy I didn't care about in that way. Did that make me a whore?
The chirping on my phone pulled me from that rather depressing line of thinking.
Does that really surprise you?
It took me a moment to remember the last things Mr. Texter—Sean—had texted. He said he thought I was hot. I pushed back my smile and got annoyed with myself.
Yes, it does. You clearly get women all the time. I can't possibly be in your league.
Morgan?
Yes. Poor guy. I almost laughed at putting him on the spot like that.
You two should really warn me when switching back and forth like that.
It's my phone. She just stole it. She has her own you know. I can give you the number.
No. I want to talk to you.
That made me too happy. I needed to get a grip. I heard Alvin washing his hands and felt worse about texting another guy when I'd just sort of broken up with him. Sorry. I'm actually a little busy right now.
More meetings?
No, lunch with a friend.
In my experience, "Friend" is code-word for guy in female language.
I guess he just know everything then. Well you sound pretty experienced with females, so you must be right.
Am I?
Maybe. What's it to you?
That's a yes. You're beautiful, tough, smart, and your friend obviously loves you. You interest me.
I didn't know how to react to that. My giggly heart wanted to make something big out of it, but I refused to allow it. His next message left me thinking seriously.
Is that okay with you?
I wasn't even sure what he meant by it. Interested in being friends? In asking me out? In making me the next "she" in "She meant nothing?" You're interested in what exactly?
Just getting to know you. That's all. Is that okay?
I didn't know this guy. I didn't even have a last name. But it wasn't like he was professing his undying love for me or anything. He just wanted to get to know me. Was there any harm in that? Was I interested in getting to know him? I decided to just be honest. Something about him interested me too. I wasn't going to run out to Miami to meet him or anything stupid like that. But I wasn't opposed to texting in the future.
Yes. That's okay
Non-refundable Deposits
Alvin kept up his end of the conversation over lunch. Every once in a while, I caught him absorbed in his thoughts, but for the most part, he acted as if I hadn't just hurt him. I was hoping that was the truth, but I knew him well enough to know that he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve like that. He had three older brothers who taught him that men were tough and emotions were a weakness. How he turned out to be such a good, kindhearted guy I had no idea.
After lunch, I had a meeting with the bride and groom who were having their wedding at the inn. Annalisa would be showing them cake samples, and I would be taking them through the details one last time before the rehearsal dinner in two weeks. While this was the first wedding I'd been in control of, it wasn't my first time being around the process. Even before the inn, Mom had planned several weddings, including my own… that is, the wedding I was supposed to have.
I had to shake my head several times to ward off unwanted memories. I certainly didn't have time to have a crying fit.
When Marcus and Amanda arrived, I could tell almost immediately that something was wrong. They weren't holding hands, their arms were folded tight across their chests, and Amanda was staring daggers at Marcus. As I walked from the lobby into the dining room to greet them, I caught pieces of their conversation.
"I don't know what you're hiding, but I can tell, Marcus. There's something going on."
The vicious glare he pointed at her made my feet stall. I didn't handle male anger well. "I'm not going to discuss this with you, not here. We're here to pick a wedding cake, damn it, just drop it."
Amanda looked close to tears and Marcus, well, Marcus looked on the offense due to guilt. I took a deep breath, trying to let that thought go—they didn't need me to put my past experiences onto them.
"Hello Marcus," I smiled. "Amanda, you look beautiful. Did you lighten your hair a bit? It looks great."
She smiled, but it was completely forced. "Thanks."
"Well, we have several delicious cakes to give you a wonderful sugar high. If you'll just take a seat, I'll go grab Annalisa, and we can get to tasting." They nodded politely, and I pointed to a table nearby before heading for th
e kitchen.
My stomach had already been in knots from the Alvin situation, but now it was knotting up from past memories and past heartache. I took a few more deep breaths and walked into the kitchen where Annalisa and Cerise were loading trays with the cake samples.
"They're here." I tried to sound chipper, but Cerise looked at me and immediately leveled me with her suspicious eye. Damn her and her best friend senses. She could read me like a book.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be? Let's get those cakes out there." I grabbed a tray and walked out of the kitchen, the girls following behind me.
The silence as they tasted the cakes was deafening. Annalisa was incapable of staying quiet and kept making little comments about the cakes, the ingredients, the way she colored them—pretty much anything to fill the silence.
"So." I clasped my hands together and continued to smile my business-like smile. "What do we think? Which one would you like to share with your guests on your happy day?" Amanda stared hard at Marcus and Marcus stared at the table. No one said anything. Even Annalisa had run out of comments to make. "Would you like a minute to talk it over?" I asked hopefully. Marcus nodded.
In the kitchen, I rolled my shoulders and stretched my neck. The tension was starting to give me a massive headache. Annalisa came over to rub my shoulders with her magic chef hands. She was like some Russian masseuse practically causing pain with her force, but it made my neck feel so much better.
"That does not look good," Cerise pointed out as she peeked through the window in the door.
"They were arguing when they walked in," I admitted.
"You have to relax, Morgan," Annalisa demanded. "Your muscles are way too tense."
Cerise left the door and came to stand in front of me. "I'm asking again, and I want a real answer, you hear me?" I let out a dramatic sigh, and she grasped my upper arm in her hand. "Are you okay?"
I closed my eyes, memories of Brent slithering through my brain. I just barely shook my head, but I knew Cerise would catch it.
"Let it go, Morgan. Marcus is not Brent. It's totally different. If you don't get over this crap, I'm afraid you'll never have another healthy relationship ever again."
"I know." My voice sounded so small. I didn't want to still be hurting, and I wasn't, most of the time. Annalisa and Cerise sandwiched me in a hug, but I pulled out of it quickly. I wanted to be strong. I needed to be strong. Pulling my shoulders back, I went out to the dining room.
"Fuck you, Marcus! You think I don't know?"
He grabbed her upper arms and shook her violently. "Fine, I fucking slept with her! There! Is that what you really wanted to hear, Amanda? Does that make you happy now? You pushed and pushed, and now you got what you wanted. I fucked her!"
I turned wide eyes to Annalisa and Cerise, who were standing behind me.
"I never want to see you again!" Amanda was crying so hard I could barely make out her words, but Marcus heard them and stormed out of the inn.
Annalisa went to hug Amanda, and Cerise moved to stand in front of me, trying to look me in the eye. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't hear anything except the thundering sound of my heart beating in my ears and the anger in Marcus' voice. I blinked several times, trying to make the image of him shaking her leave my mind, but I couldn't. My stomach started spinning as I remembered how it felt to be on the receiving end of that kind of anger, and I ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before my entire lunch came back up.
When I finally came back to reality, I noticed Cerise's arms around me. I was on the bathroom floor, comforted by the knowledge that I'd cleaned it the night before. My hands shook as I reached for some toilet paper to wipe my tears away.
"I had no idea that was coming," Cerise admitted. "I would have, I don't know, shielded you from it somehow."
I let my chin fall to my chest. With anyone else, I would have been incredibly embarrassed, but Cerise was the closest thing I had to a sister. She'd been there when Brent—I shook my head. Now wasn't the time for memories. I refused to let him win again. I'd shown enough weakness.
I stood up. "Poor Amanda." I'd certainly been in her shoes. Slowly, I dragged myself to the sink and rinsed my mouth. I cleaned up my eye makeup and felt a little stronger. I needed to help Amanda not relive my past.
Cerise grabbed my arm before I could leave the vanity. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're really okay."
I let out a loud sigh. "I just wasn't expecting it either. But I'm really okay."
She nodded and walked out of the bathroom, holding the door open for me.
Outside, Amanda was still crying her poor little eyes out on Annalisa's shoulder. Walking to my office, I grabbed the binder full of details for Amanda's wedding and flipped to her mother's phone number.
A half hour later and two boxes of tissues, Amanda was transferred from Annalisa's arms to her mother's, who took her home. When the excitement was over, the reality of it all began weighing me down. I couldn't possibly see a wedding in their future, especially not one just a month away. No wedding meant no paycheck. My stomach was rolling again, but at least this time, I had nothing left in it to throw up. I sat for an hour crunching numbers, but I couldn't make my calculations work and kept starting over.
Resting my head against the desk, I finally gave up. My head just wasn't focused enough for the math. I felt so worn out. Cerise wanted to stick around just to make sure I was okay even though her shift was over when Amanda left, but I wouldn't let her. She was tired, and I didn't feel like talking.
I must have dozed off for a moment because the next thing I knew, I was being awakened by the chirping of my phone. Noticing the time, I felt less like an irresponsible business owner since I'd only been out for a little over ten minutes. Still, I felt that I should leave my office and take a walk around the inn to be sure everything was running smoothly and that our one guest was taken care of.
In the dining room, it was good to see that people were there enjoying Annalisa's cooking. We might not have anyone spending the night in the inn, but we typically had a decent showing for lunch and dinner in the tea room.
I said hello to each table and chatted briefly with my neighbors before putting on my coat to get some air. Outside, the cold felt better than I thought it would. It numbed some of the pain of the day. Looking back at my cell phone, the blinking notification drew my attention.
Still having lunch with your "friend?"
I wish. Even with the tension, it had been a brighter moment in my day.
Are you seeing him?
I was feeling really off balance with so many memories of Brent refusing to leave my head. Talking to some strange guy who refused to give me basic details about who he was coupled with questions about my romantic life felt scary. I needed to know more to feel secure. What's your last name? Where are you from? What do you do for a living?
Avoiding the question?
I narrowed my eyes at the phone. Yes, you are, aren't you?
Okay, I'll answer one of yours if you answer mine.
I supposed I could agree with that if it meant he'd finally give me some information. Fine. You first.
I'm from Minnesota. Small town called Duluth.
Not the most personal of details, but it was a start. What are you doing in Miami?
Working. Your turn. Are you seeing this "friend" from lunch?
I was, sort of. That was as delicate as I could put it.
Sort of?
I shrugged, not feeling up to playing games. I figured why bother beating around the bush? I was sleeping with him.
That typically counts as "seeing someone," even in my book.
We're just friends. Only friends.
With benefits.
Urgh. I hated that term. Why does everyone use that term?
Cuz it's true. Wasn't it beneficial for you?
Beneficial? He did not seriously ask me that. I felt my cheeks warm up with slight embarrassment and annoyance. That's
too far.
Too personal for you?
Yes. I don't discuss my sex life with strangers who got my number from an accidental text message. Maybe he was a pervert, trying to get women to sext with him.
I resent being called a stranger. I know your name. I know what you look like, you're kind, intelligent, and honest.
I know nothing about you.
Not true. You know my name and where I'm from.
Oh yeah, because a first name and Duluth, Minnesota said so much about a person. How do I know you're not a stalker, Sean-still-no-last-name.
What can I say to convince you I'm not a stalker?
Nothing. Proof was in the details. Speaking of which, I turned back to my computer and opened up Google. Give me your last name and address, so I can Google you.
I waited outside for several minutes, thinking he would reply, but he never did. Finally, I went back inside and did my best to forget about him. He was clearly a stalker or a sex offender.
The week went by pretty quickly. I hadn't heard from Stalker Sean, so I assumed he got tired of the game when I wouldn't play by his rules and went back to pestering Michelle. I'd gotten the call from Amanda's mom officially canceling the wedding, so I started calling around to cancel entertainment arrangements and rentals. Petey assured me that between my wedding planner fee and the deposit, I'd not only be able to scrape by, but might make a tiny bit—enough to cover half of what I was likely going to be in the red for the following month.
I pathetically found myself checking for text messages a few times a day on the off chance that Stalker Sean had become re-interested in me. He hadn't though, and I didn't really need his distractions—that is, until Monday morning rolled around.
Mondays were awful to begin with. Most people hated them because it signaled going back to work, but since I was at work seven days a week for typically twelve hours a day, coming back from the weekend wasn't an issue. However, it seemed all the crap hit the fan on Mondays because everyone else began paying attention to their responsibilities again.
Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight Page 4
