by DC Renee
“Because you fit the stereotype so perfectly. I was hoping there would be at least a little wiggle room.”
“I like my car,” I protested.
“I didn’t say it was a bad one, but if you had a truck or a Jeep, yeah, a Jeep would be nice.” She snapped her fingers as if she had thought of a brilliant idea. I didn’t see what was so damn brilliant about a Jeep. “What do your friends drive?”
“Lance has a Mercedes too. Dan has a Lexus, and Erick has a BMW. Why?”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You all go to that expensive gym on Fourth too?”
“How the hell did you know that?” I asked, completely shocked.
“Carter, you scream, ‘Look at me.’ But I promise you that the girls are already looking. You don’t need to make it seem like you care too. It comes off as … what’s the right wording? Trying too hard.”
“I haven’t had any complaints,” I responded.
“And I bet you haven’t dated anyone with half a brain either.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call what I do ‘dating.’” I smiled.
“Ugh, pig,” she said as she wrinkled her nose.
“And besides, what the hell do you know about all this shit?” I asked, a little ticked off.
“I’m a recluse, Carter, not an imbecile.”
“If I stopped caring about my perception, I’d look like you,” I snapped back.
“If you only knew how false that statement was,” she responded, but I had no clue what she meant. We dropped the conversation and continued in awkward, slightly tension-filled silence until we pulled up to the bar where we were meeting my friends.
“What’s your middlename?” she asked as we got out of the car.
“What?”
“What’s your middle name? If we’re sleeping together, shouldn’t I at least know who I’m getting into bed with? I got your last name already, but what’s your middle name?”
“Most girls don’t even get the last name.”
“And I bet most girls don’t get to meet your friends after three days either.”
She had a point. Damn, dating was exhausting, and I wasn’t even fucking dating her. “James. Carter James Anderson..”
“Nice to meet you, Carter James Anderson.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Emerson Higgins.”
I shook her hand and chuckled. I felt like I was on a roller coaster with her. One minute, I wanted to strangle her, and the next, I … didn’t.
“Okay, Emerson Higgins,” I said as I held the door open for her. “Let’s see what you got.”
I had called my buddies the day after I met Emerson, told them I had nailed her … from behind, of course. I told them she was actually not bad without the clothes and in the dark. I warned them not to do any shit that would be considered “unfair” toward me winning the bet. They all reluctantly agreed, so I wasn’t worried about them being assholes to Emerson. And strangely enough, I actually really cared about them being mean to her. Go figure, I had a nice side even I didn’t know existed.
“Em, this is Lance, Dan, and Erick. Guys, this is Emerson.” I introduced them.
“Nice to meet you,” Emerson said as she shook everyone’s hands.
“So, Em … mind if I call you Em?” Dan asked.
“Depends,” she responded.
“On what?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Whether you’re the one buying my drinks or not,” she replied with a smug smile. I liked that. We weren’t really dating, but as far as they knew, we were, and I liked that she wouldn’t let my friends get comfortable with her the way she and I were supposed to be.
“Damn, Carter, you got a feisty one on your hands,” Dan said to me but winked at Emerson. She didn’t look too impressed.
“Anyway, Emerson, how’d our boy here sweep you off your feet?” Dan asked.
“Well, let’s be honest”—she smiled—“I’m not much to look at, so you can cut the shit. But I had assumed he was hitting on me because he heard the rumors.”
“The rumors?” Lance asked, but I was just as curious as he was.
“Yeah, the ones about how I suck dick like a pro and have a wild side in bed like you’ve never seen.” She said it so casually, so nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, but I knew it was. And I was wondering where in the hell she was going with this. I saw Erick spit out his water, Dan drop his jaw, and Lance just look impressed.
“You haven’t heard them, either? Oh, too bad for you boys because rumors always start somewhere.” She smiled, and I smiled in response. “I know when a guy offers to buy me a drink, they want some action. So when Carter here asked to buy me a drink, I asked for his size and how long it took him to come. Since I liked his response, I took him home with me. He passed, so I’m keeping him around for a bit.”
The guys literally stayed silent after that.
“When he called to ask me to meet his friends, I got a bit nervous,” she continued when no one spoke for a while. “I mean, that’s a big step in a relationship, but he assured me it was no big deal. I mean, I like you and all, Carter,” she said looking at me, “but sex is just sex, right?”
“I … uh … yeah,” I stuttered, completely shocked by this turn of events. And thoroughly impressed. She had managed to stun my friends silent, come up with an awesome and hilarious story on the fly, and she made it seem entirely plausible that we’d end on good terms in two months, no questions asked.
“So boys, what are we drinking?” She smiled wide and clapped her hands together. “I need a good, hard, stiff drink,” she said in a voice so low that if I had closed my eyes, I might have been turned on. “And apparently, you all need to loosen up,” she teased, and my friends finally found their voices.
“Emerson.” Lance spoke first. “I like you.”
“Ah shit, Lance, I can only handle one guy at a time,” she joked, winked, and everyone laughed. And then the next thing I knew, it was an hour later, and we had been talking and joking the entire time.
“Okay, I got one,” Emerson said between chuckles after we started telling jokes. “A guy buys a sports car, and as he leaves the dealership, he guns it. It feels good, so he goes a little faster, and then a little more, and then, all of a sudden, he sees the flashing blue and red lights behind him. He pulls over, and the cop comes to him and says, ‘Listen, I have five minutes left on my last shift for the week. If you give me an excuse I’ve never heard before, I’ll let you go.’ The guy thinks for a moment and tells the cop, ‘Three years ago, my wife ran away with a cop; I was afraid you were bringing her back.’”
We all cracked up. “That was a good one,” Erick said as Dan leaned over and whispered quietly for only me to hear. “I guess you lucked out when I picked the girl for this bet. She’s fucking fun. All you have to do is cover her face when you’re banging her. Especially if she’s dynamite in bed.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. She was fucking fun. And the rest of the night was fun too.
“Why don’t you have friends?” I asked when I took her home, seriously wondering why. She had been a natural charmer with my buddies. They weren’t assholes outright, but they were hard to win over, and by the end of the night, they thought of her as one of them.
“Not my thing.” She shrugged.
“But everyone needs friends.” I swear I sounded like I was whining. And I wasn’t sure why in the hell I cared.
“I’ve done just fine without any.”
“Maybe,” I responded. “Or maybe you’re hiding from something.”
“Nope, just don’t like people.”
“You have a natural way about you,” I told her honestly. “Individuals that don’t like people don’t have that ability.”
“Okay, Carter. So I don’t like people getting too close. A few more of these meetings with your friends and I’ll never see them again, so I can let loose a little with them. That’s all it is. Don’t start thinking too hard about this stuff. It will hurt your pretty little head.”
“So you
think my head is pretty?”
“Like you need any more ego boosters,” she replied sarcastically.
“For what it’s worth, Em, any person would be lucky to have you as a friend.”
“Thanks,” she said so softly I almost didn’t catch it. And when I pulled up to her house, she ran out so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to say good-bye or thank her for holding up her end of the bargain, at least for now. But as I watched her run into her house, I couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Emerson. And for the first time in my life, I actually kind of wanted to figure it out.
Seven
Emerson
The night out with Carter’s friends was … fun. Father, forgive me, but it was fun. When I left, I heard them telling Carter that I needed to come around more often. That had brought a smile to my face, which in turn had me feeling guilty. The beauty of life included having fun, and to me, beauty was dead. I tried to reason that it was all in the name of the big picture, but it still felt like I was somehow betraying my beliefs.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the evening.
I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t smile wide and all goofy-like when I got a text the next day from Carter.
Thanks for last night. My friends loved you, and this bet should be a piece of cake. I’ll let you know when we have to get together again.
I definitely hadn’t expected a thank-you, but I did expect to hear from him again considering we still had the rest of the two months for his bet and three months until my cousin’s wedding.
You’re welcome, I responded. What else was there to say?
I didn’t hear from him for another week, which was fine by me, but I knew I’d have to contact him in the next few days to make sure he didn’t flake on me. We’d probably have to at least meet up for a bit so we could play twenty questions, and he’d learn how to be my “boyfriend,” and I guess I’d learn how to be a girlfriend too.
I was sitting at home, half reading a book, half watching TV when my doorbell rang. I jumped in my seat, literally. My book fell on the floor with a loud thud, and my heart was racing. No one, and I mean no one visited me, except my mom and, once in a blue moon, my cousins. And when they did, it wasn’t unannounced.
“I’m not interested,” I yelled, figuring it was someone selling something. Whatever it was, I wasn’t buying.
But the doorbell rang again and then again.
I got up, fixed my wig, and grabbed my glasses as I stomped over to my door.
“I said I wasn’t interested,” I said as I swung the door open, only to have my mouth stay open on the last word. Okay, so it wasn’t staying open so much as it was hanging open.
“Not interested in Chinese?” Carter asked. “Or the company?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“You know, usually, girls don’t greet me that way.” He smirked.
“I’m sure they would if they knew you were just going to hump them and dump them.”
“Hump them and dump them?” he repeated with a chuckle. “That’s good. I’ll use that next time I’m picking up a chick,” he said as he pushed his way past me.
“What … what are you doing?”
“I was supposed to grab dinner with Lance, who happens to work about three minutes from here, but he got stuck at work after I had already ordered for us.”
“So why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I was already in the neighborhood, I had too much food, and we have work to do. It’s a three-for-one,” he said as if he was saying, “duh.”
“And what if I wasn’t home?”
“Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows while riffling through my kitchen. Okay, he got me there.
“Well, what if I have work to do?”
“Do you?” he asked seriously.
“No,” I whispered honestly.
“Okay, so what’s the big deal? I’ve already been to your house, which means I’ve already broken through one barrier. Besides, we need to learn more about each other, right? So your family thinks we’re in love or some shit. I’m really doing this for you.”
“Ugh, I’m starting to hate this entire deal.”
“Only starting to now? I guess that’s progress.” He shrugged with a smile on his lips.
“Fine. Whatever. You’re lucky I like Chinese food.”
“Who doesn’t?” he asked as he finished laying everything out on my table and started digging in. “So what’s the deal anyway? I mean why do you so obviously keep people away?”
“Trust me when I say none of my family will quiz you on whether you know me that well.”
“I’m not asking for that. I want to know.”
“It’s who I am. Been that way forever,” I answered him with the only answer I was going to give.
“Oookay.” He stretched the word out, and I fought the urge to correct him. “Fine, moving on. Tell me about you. Any siblings? Your parents still together? Any hobbies? What did you go to school for and where? Any of the usual bullshit we’re supposed to learn on a first date.”
“I’m an only child. I’m close to my mom. My father is dead.” It was hard to say, but it was also the truth, so I kept going. “I did ballet from age three until age ten. I played piano for a couple of years too. I studied business at USC and got my master’s there too.”
“Wait a second, how old are you again?” he asked like he’d truly forgotten the answer.
“Twenty-four, you?”
“I’m twenty-eight, but I keep thinking you have to be closer to my age, maybe even older.”
“Gee, thanks,” I replied dryly.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that you have accomplished quite a lot for such a young age.”
“I need to record you saying that so I can replay it for my mom.”
“She isn’t proud of you?” he asked, sincerely shocked.
“No, no, she is. She just thinks this isn’t all there is to life.”
“She’s right.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my life, and I’m going to live it how I want.”
“This is living?” he asked.
“Who are you to judge?” I hissed.
“Sorry,” he said as he held his hands up in defense. “That’s not what I meant.” I gave him the oh, really stare. “Okay, fine, that’s what I meant. But your mom is right. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve done great for yourself, and you’re a pretty cool chick, I must say, but what’s with the weird gothic vibe and the ‘don’t come near me’ attitude?”
“If you don’t let people in, you don’t miss them when they’re gone.” I spoke softly, not even realizing I had said the words out loud until he simply said, “Oh.”
“So can we drop this topic now?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled. And then there was an awkward silence.
“Okay, your turn. Give me the specifics on you.” I spoke to break the tension.
“I have one sister. She’s two years younger than I am. Elizabeth. I used to call her Lizzy, but she hates it when I do that now. She goes by Beth. Hey, you should meet her sometime. She’d love your ballsy attitude. She’s always telling me that the girls I hang around with are dropping my IQ. I’d love to prove her wrong with you.”
“We aren’t exactly hanging around together.”
“Looks like it to me,” he stated as he waved a chopstick around the room.
“Technicalities. And it’s only for three months.”
“Well, let’s hope you raise my IQ in those three months then,” he joked, and I couldn’t help but smile. Damn Carter for being a genuinely nice guy. Damn him to hell. He was breaking my rules and pushing his way through my barricades.
“Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, I don’t really have any hobbies or extracurricular activities, well … unless you count those extracurricular activities.”
“Uh, yeah, no. I don’t think taking off a bra with one hand or your teeth or whatever it is you do counts,” I responde
d, but I was smiling at his antics.
“I was thinking along the lines of lower.” He smirked.
“Yeah, yeah, Casanova, we got that part. Go on.” I waved him on.
“Well, you figured out that I’m a lawyer. I did my undergrad at NYU and got a law degree from the University of Miami.”
“Impressive,” I told him. “What else? How’d you meet your friends?”
“We all grew up together and stayed friends even when we all went to different colleges. Lance works for his dad’s company, Dan is an architect, and Erick is an optometrist. I do have a few buddies all over the US who I met through school, though, but I don’t really see them as often.”
“That’s good,” I said because I didn’t really have anything else to say.
“I still don’t understand how you don’t have any friends. You’re really a social person. I mean look at us getting along here.”
“We’re not friends,” I stated. “Far from it.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, wise guy. Would you have approached me if it weren’t for the bet?”
“No, but I’m a shallow guy, and I don’t approach girls I’m not interested in fucking.”
“You’re lucky I don’t offend easily.”
“Like you are in the least bit interested in me,” he countered. “Which, by the way, I’m still feeling the ego effects of, thank you very much.”
“Fine, we’re even,” I said to shut him up. “But the point is that people don’t approach me. And I’m perfectly fine with that. I don’t need or want anyone thinking I could be their buddy.”
“You’re hiding something, Em, and one day, I’ll either figure it out, or you’re going to tell me.”
“Nothing to figure out. Some people have issues. This is mine,” I told him, but my heart was beating a mile a minute. He was getting too close, and I needed him gone. “Well, this was fun, thanks for dinner. We’ll get together again soon to learn more truly fascinating things about each other,” I said sarcastically, mostly because I was trying to cover up my nervousness from him.
“Is this what it feels like?” He chuckled.
“What do you mean?” I asked, truly confused.
