Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel

by Nina G. Jones

  It wasn't until I arrived in the parking lot of the grocery store that I noticed the voicemails from a New York area code. Immediately, there was a dreadful tightness in my stomach which was confirmed by voicemails from St. Luke's Hospital.

  You are listed as the emergency contact for Isabella Lucca. Please call us as soon as possible.

  The voicemail didn't fully sink in, just the key sentences that informed me something was very wrong.

  When I finally spoke to someone, she told me what she could on the phone: Nonna had a bad fall and fractured her hip. At her age that was very bad, but there was more. They had run some tests and found some things. I would want to come as quickly as possible. I asked to speak with her and they told me she had been sleeping a lot because of painkillers but they would try. I was lucky to find her awake.

  "Nonna?"

  "Bella?" Sometimes she called me that, it was my mother's name.

  "How are you?"

  "Eh...okay, okay." She sounded groggy.

  "The doctors said you had a fall. What happened?"

  "I don't know. I don't remember."

  "I'm coming to see you, okay?"

  "Did the doctors tell you I'm sick?"

  "What? What are you talking about?" They said they wanted me to come to the hospital, but what she said washed me in panic. "Grandma...what are you talking about?"

  "Don't worry baby, I'll be fine."

  "I know, you are going to be fine. I am going to take care of you. What's this talk about being sick?"

  "The doctor says I have the cancer in my lungs." She said it so frankly and so unassuming, as if she was telling me she had heartburn. My eyes welled up, it took everything I had not to lose it and cry all over the phone. I should have been there with her, I should have held her hand as they told her the news, but I was off in Paris with some guy I could barely stand a couple of months ago.

  "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I would have flown back. I forgot my phone. I am so sorry."

  "No, I'm happy. I wanted you to have a good time. Is he nice? The boy?"

  I laughed wistfully to myself. I told you she was a romantic. "Yeah, he's nice," I said, my voice wavering from the tears. And now, I knew it was even more important to her that I find someone, because she was my Alfred. And it was possible I might not have her for much longer. "I'm coming, okay? Right away."

  "Don't drive fast." Typical of my grandmother, to care about the speed of my driving when she was given a potential death sentence.

  "I won't. I love you and I'll see you soon." Those last words broke a seal, tears gushed out of my eyes. I knew this day would come, I always knew it, but it hurt so badly to know that I could be truly alone in this world. That I would have no one to fall back on unconditionally. That the person who was my buoy, my beacon in the lonely ocean of this world, would disappear from this earth. I covered the receiver so she wouldn't hear me.

  "See you, Bella."

  I cried for several minutes in the car, letting out all of the fear, emptiness, and anger I felt at myself for dropping the ball and not being around when she fell, and at the world, for taking my parents and now her. But something new stirred inside of me: I felt the urge to fall back on someone, the one person who I knew could make the ache in my chest subside. His smile, his touch, his words: they made my sadness fade. I wanted to cry into Heath's arms, I wanted him to sing me a song, I wanted him to caress my cheek like he did that morning in Paris when he thought I was asleep. I was going to go all in with him because that is what Nonna would want me to do. She wouldn't want me to live my life in fear of being hurt because she was wise enough to know that it is that fear that makes it so. I sucked back the tears and raced to the house. My plan was to tell him everything, to cry into his warm chest, to feel his kisses on my temple. Then I would go be with my Nonna and sort out what could be done with the doctors.

  I wiped my eyes before opening the door to the house. I didn't want to freak him out by coming in hysterically, and I wanted to be able to explain the situation to him, which I would not be able to if I had lost it again.

  I opened the front door to the house, the foyer and living room was empty.

  "Heath?" I called out, but there was no answer.

  "Oh, hello..." Out from behind the wall that blocked part of the kitchen from the foyer, walked Illy. All six-foot-eight, 80 pounds of her. She had on a dress that was more like a shirt in length, fuck-me heels, her makeup was done, her hair blown out. She was trying to impress.

  Just as I was about to ask her what she was doing in the house, Heath walked out from the hallway, fixing his pants. His eyes expanded when he saw me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I dropped my bags on the floor and looked at Heath with the flame of ten-thousand suns in my eyes. "What is she doing here?" I stabbed my finger in her direction, but didn't look at her.

  "I don't need your permission to be here you basic beech," said the poor man's Giselle Bunchen.

  "Shut up you desperate skank," I sneered at her. "And what's a basic beech? Is that opposed to a sandy beech? Or an exotic beech? You should speak less and do what you're paid to do: stand there and act like a human clothes hanger."

  "Too bad you came, ve vere just starting to have fun. Don't you have groceries to put away, house girl?"

  If it were any other time in all of time, even in an alternate universe, I would've acted like a civilized human being. I would have used my words, which as we all know can draw blood on their own. But this was not any other time, this was not some other universe, I was here in this moment. I had just found out my only living relative, the person who had been a mother figure to me most of my life would likely soon perish, and the man I had fought so tirelessly to guard my heart against betrayed it as soon as he had it in his smarmy clenches. And now he had thrown in on the floor and was river dancing on it.

  I left the house for twenty fucking minutes. Twenty fucking minutes and he was coming out of the back of the house and adjusting his fucking pants like the man whore I knew he was. Fuck me. Fuck me for being so stupid. I had promised myself that I would rather be alone and safe, than open my heart to someone and be hurt again, and I broke that promise as soon as a pretty man told me all the things he knew I wanted to hear. I was just a challenge to him, he had said it before, he used that exact word to describe me. Now I had made myself easy to access. And what do people do once they have conquered something? They move on to the next challenge.

  So no, I didn't act classy or like a grown up. I lost my shit. Royally.

  "You stupid bitch!" I said, charging at her like I was attacking my husband-cousin on an episode of Jerry Springer. I had just about had it with her faux high-society, wannabe Linda Evangelista, snotty, cunty attitude and I was going to show her how we really handle things in New York.

  "Woah! Woah! Woah!" Heath said, sprinting to intercept me; he got to me just in time to scoop me by my waist, but I got a handful of Ill's weave. I didn't know it was one until it easily parted with her head. Not one to take a weave removal without a fight, she clawed back at me. Heath turned me away from her, holding me firmly with one arm while stiff-arming Illy. I kicked into the air like a Rockette on meth, but Heath only tightened his arm around me.

  "You are just a maid beech!" She screamed out. "You're no better than a prostitute!"

  "And you're two years away from retirement!" Models don't like to be reminded they're old by 25.

  "Illy stop!" Heath's voice was deep and I felt it reverberate through his chest. "Get out!"

  "No, let her stay. I'll go!" I screamed out.

  "For god's sake Sadie, shut up!" Heath was never serious, he rarely got angry. Everything seemed to be a joke to him. Sure he got annoyed, maybe even pissy, but never angry. Now he was fuming. "Illy. Leave. Now." She stomped her foot petulantly. I don't think she could believe he was kicking her out. "Now," he said, pointing in the direction of the door.

  She sneered at him, mumbled something in whatever language she spoke,
stuck her chin up and wobbled on her stilt-like legs over to where her purse was. She snatched it, and marched out of the front door, "I get vy you are acting like this, he's a good fuck, I vould know--ve have done it all over thees house!" she jabbed. I knew the witch was finally gone when the door slammed. Heath finally released me.

  "You son of a bitch!" I screamed at him.

  "You need to calm down."

  "No, I do not need to calm down. I am not her, I am not any one of these fucking girls out here. You will not make a fool out of me. You know how I feel about her. Of all people...you fucking bastard," I pushed my fist against his chest.

  "What the hell do you think happened?"

  "What do you think I think happened? I saw you fixing your pants for fuck's sake. What do you take me for?"

  "I went to the bathroom!"

  "Of course! You just happened to have your favorite fuck buddy immediately over when I told you I would be gone for at least an hour." I clenched my fists and they shook with rage. My eyes were red, my cheeks streaked with tears of rage and fear. Everything around me was crashing, everyone was abandoning me.

  "I checked my emails and I saw one from her. She said she had been trying to call me. She said she tried to visit me and you blocked her? You never told me."

  Oops. I had forgotten about that.

  "No, that's different. I...uh...she uses you like everyone else. She came weeks after the accident. I didn't think you needed to see her. It was late." Oh and then I felt like fucking your brains out.

  "Her number was blocked on my phone. Did you do that?"

  Shitshitshit. "So instead of talking to me about it, you had her come over? Did you even think about how that might make me feel? What it would make me think?"

  "I just...she's a friend...and when she told me what she told me I felt bad that she thought I was ignoring her..."

  "You call that cunty bitch a friend? Do you even notice the way she treats me? The way she has treated me since I met her? Or are you so used to women fighting over you that you don't even notice? Maybe you find it entertaining or food for your enormous ego."

  "I didn't think--"

  "Of course you didn't. You just do what you do and if people get hurt, so be it. Past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. You two meet up to fuck, that's what you do. God, I am so stupid," I said burying my hands in my face. "I would be an IDIOT if I believed you didn't do anything with her."

  "You're just determined to make me out to be some asshole? Aren't you? Because you are afraid. What are you so afraid of?"

  "People like you," I sneered.

  The corners of Heath's mouth turned down, he took a step back from me like I punched him in the gut.

  I should have listened to those pestering thoughts: he's a pig, he's a player, he'll tire of you and move on. He'll fuck around behind your back and make you think you're crazy. I needed to use to logic and rationality and ignore the pain deep in the center of my heart. I had to leave, to be with Nonna and to get out from under his spell. I was a such a fool, gallivanting around Paris, like he and I were something magical, but that's just hormones manufacturing emotions that make one temporarily insane. My judgement had been clouded. Everything between us blossomed in an artificial environment: he and I living in his house in seclusion, a vacation with just the two of us. The truth was, we would have to reenter the world, and we would go back to the people we always were.

  And then I looked over his shoulder, and I saw the painting. That 20-foot-tall black and neon replica of his Times Square ad on his wall. What the hell am I thinking? I would never be with a guy who has a giant painting of himself hanging in his living room. What kind of mega-douche does that? That is who he is. He is that type of guy.

  "We had a nice thing, just us two in our own little world. But that's over now, your friends will come back and you'll be the person you were when I met you."

  "I'm me. I'm just me."

  Then I made the final move. I was taking back my chips, or maybe I had already lost them all when I made the bet that morning. "I've been meaning to tell you this, I just found out that Brock is back and wants me to return. I'm going to take the job. I'm leaving tonight. I'll unload everything I just bought and then I'm leaving." I didn't want to tell him about Nonna, because if he showed he cared, if he tried to hug me, I feared I would melt back into his arms. I needed to get the fuck out of there as quickly as I could. We would never work, I had let him delude me, but seeing him emerge from the hallway adjusting his belt, with Grossy in the house holding that satisfied, shit-eating grin on her face, it all became so clear.

  Hey, sweetie, will you be okay for a little while to mingle? One of my clients just called and Jules and I need to do a quick conference call upstairs.

  Sadie, I'm going to be really late tonight. You can just start dinner without me. These international clients are killing me.

  Oh, that was just Curtis, he had an emergency with the guys from London. I know it's late, but I need to head back into the office for a little bit.

  I would not be the fool again. Never again.

  "You're just gonna leave like this?"

  "You don't have to pay me for last week."

  "It's not about that." He softened his tone. "Sadie...come on. I didn't do anything with her. What about honesty? You lied to me, but I'm willing to hear you out. You're just going to walk out on me?"

  "Look at me. Look what I just did." I laughed to myself, running my fingers through my hair motioning to the area of the house where I had just pounced Illy like a feral cat. "Look at what I am becoming. I just attacked someone like some inbred reality TV actor. I lied to you. None of that comes from a good place. We're not good for each other. You don't want me breathing down your neck. And I can't trust you."

  "Sadie..." I could tell from his tone, he didn't know what to say. He knew how stubborn I was and that I had made up my mind. "Why do you have to over think everything? Why do you have to fight what feels good?"

  "Because life isn't always about doing what feels good, it's about doing what feels right." I hadn't realized until that moment that we had drifted over to a wall, my back was against it and Heath hovered over me. He tried to caress my hair and I stepped off to the side and walked away.

  "I'll pay you whatever you want if you'll stay."

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him. We were only ten feet away from each other, but I had never felt this distant from him. Is that what he thinks of me? That I am just another person he can buy or charm to get whatever he wants? "You think you can buy me?"

  "That's not what I meant," he said, looking immediately regretful. "I just don't know what to do."

  "Let me leave and go back to your old life. That's what you do."

  I headed for my room without looking back and as soon as I entered, it all erupted out of me. The disappointment and loneliness compressed my chest like a suffocating weight. I could move on, it was early, walking away now would hurt less than being made a fool of later. I needed to focus on my grandmother, I had already missed being there for her once while I was being foolish with him. He told me not to worry, that it would only be a few days without reaching her, but that's because Heath doesn't know what it's like to really care about anyone but himself. I knew logically that I couldn't blame him for missing the hospital's calls, but someone had to be the target of my anger, and he made himself the perfect one with what he had just done. There wasn't time to mope over my emotional wounds when I had to focus on getting my grandmother back to health, there was no room for Heath now that he had made himself a complication.

  I took a deep breath to compose myself and shoved as much stuff into two suitcases as I could. I would ask Mindy to grab anything I had left behind during her next visit. I loaded the suitcases on the retired chairlift and put it to back to work, using it to lower my luggage. Heath was nowhere in sight. The shopping bags were on the floor where I had left them. I promised to unload, so I did it as quickly as I could
hoping I could exit before encountering him again.

  As much as I tried to fight it, tears streamed down my cheeks, I continued to wipe them off with my sleeve, determined for Heath not to see me like this. As soon as I was done, I grabbed my suitcases and rolled them out the front door and wrestled over the gravel with them, throwing them in the backseat of my car.

  My laptop was still in the house, and that was not something I could leave behind, so I reentered as stealthily as I could, placing it in its bag. I reached for the front door.

  "Sadie." My hand paused on the door knob. I took a deep inhale, and turned it. "Sadie. Wait." His footsteps moved quickly behind me. His warmth pressed against my back. I closed my eyes, scrunching my face to contain the emotional anguish. I had to be brief. Brevity was the only way I could make it out of this in one piece.

  I turned around to face him. His eyes were red. Move quickly. Tread lightly.

  "Sadie," he whispered, pressing his nose against my hair, "please, don't go," the warmth of his breath traveling down to my neck gave me chills. I wanted to hug him, to feel his arms around me, to bear some of the weight of my sadness. I took another deep inhale to stop tears from rolling out. "Please." He kissed my neck, pressing into me. "Don't."

  "I have to go," I choked out, grabbing the door handle behind me, sliding out the door. I had never seen him so serious, so sad. We're not good for each other, I reminded myself and I walked into the car without looking back.