Mixed Up Love

by Natasha Madison

  “Pardon?” I say to them, looking first at my father and then my mother.

  “Why?” my father starts. “Why did he call you that?”

  “Why does that matter? The fact he said it is enough.” I look at him.

  “Honey,” he starts, and I roll my eyes and groan, “he looks like a reasonable person.”

  “Okay,” I say, throwing up my hands.

  “So, a reasonable person isn’t going to just come out and call people names. What happened before to make him go that route?”

  “That route?” I say, my voice getting louder while my mother looks at me, trying to figure it out. “What does it matter what I did? What he said wasn’t nice, and it wasn’t true.”

  “I agree,” my father says, “you are not stupid.”

  “I know,” I agree and wait for him to continue.

  “You can be childish, I mean, depending, and, honey, you are so impulsive.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I say, slamming my hands down on the table. “It was Sandy, okay? She was following her boyfriend, who, by the way”—I look at my mother—“is Anthony.” Her mouth drops open. “Yeah.” I nod. “Because she thought he was cheating on her.”

  My father shakes his head. “I knew this had to have something to do with Sandy.”

  “It doesn’t matter who or what it has to do with. He called me names, and I didn’t like it.”

  “So, you left and didn’t give him a chance to say sorry?” my mother says. “Honey, you know we have only your best interest at heart. But …”

  “But nothing, Mom,” I say softly. “What he said hurt me.”

  “Honey,” my mother says, “he wouldn’t get so upset if he didn’t care.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say, shaking my head. “Doesn’t matter.” I turn to look at the pool, and no one says anything.

  I kiss them both goodbye, and they make me promise to call them this week. Walking back into my house, I kick off my shoes and go outside. I walk to the railing and lean on it, watching the water. I feel eyes again on me. I scan the people on the beach, but it’s late in the day and most people have packed up. I look around for his car, and it’s not there. “It’s all in your head,” I tell myself, turning and going straight to bed.

  I drag my ass the next morning, grabbing a pair of scrubs and not even making myself any coffee. I convince myself that my mood is just because I’m tired, but I’m lying. When I open the door to go to work, there is another rose; this time, a yellow one.

  I look around, trying to see if he’s here, but I don’t see him. I bend to pick up the rose. Bringing it to my nose, I smell it before reading the note dangling from it.

  The second day we spent together, the sun was shining, but all I saw was your smile.

  I’m sorry.

  Hunter

  I blink away the sudden itch to my eyes, then turn and walk back inside to place it in the vase with the blue one. I leave the notes hanging on them.

  I look down the whole time I walk to the car, and then make my way to work. “Showtime,” I say, grabbing my bag and walking into work. I smile at everyone and pretend nothing is wrong. Even when Teressa asks me about my weekend, I just say it was great.

  After work, instead of driving home and sitting in my condo, I drive to the park. Getting out, I walk down the paved path that weaves around the green grass and huge trees. Strollers are everywhere because people are taking advantage of the good weather. I see a couple of people sitting together. A yoga class is on the right side, and a tai chi is on the other. I spot an empty wooden bench, so I sit on it and look around, watching the yoga class. When it’s over, I see some of them stick around laughing. What the fuck is wrong with me? I knew him for one week—one—and it feels like I lost a piece of me, like it’s missing.

  The next five days are pretty much the same. After day three, I gave myself till Friday to snap out of it or I would kick my own ass. But it seems that every single time I think it’s going to be okay, I open the door in the morning and sitting on the step is a rose with a different note. I just keep putting them together, telling myself it doesn’t matter.

  The last one was a black rose.

  The color you wore when I fell for you.

  I’m sorry.

  Hunter

  I’ll leave you alone.

  I don’t know whether it’s the fact he said he’d leave me alone or the fact that he said he fell for me, but I go back inside. Closing the door, I press my back to it, sliding down to the floor, and a sob rips through me as I hold the rose to my chest. Maybe this is what I need—to cry him out of my system.

  I cry for five minutes, then get up and look in the mirror. Nothing will take away the bags that I have or the fact that my eyes are bloodshot and my nose red. I put on my sunglasses and make my way to work.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Teressa asks when I walk out of my office.

  “Yeah,” I say, “I think I’m coming down with a cold.”

  “Well, you have the weekend to relax,” she says, smiling. I go from patient to patient, the whole time my heart hurting, my mind empty.

  I look at the next chart and see it’s Anthony. I look up and walk into the examining room. “Hello there,” I say, and then I spot Sandy sitting in the corner.

  “Hey,” she says, looking at me, and I try to avoid making eye contact with her. If anyone can see past my bullshit, it’s Sandy.

  “Let’s see what we have,” I say, looking at the X-rays. I work on his tooth, and when I finish, I smile at them both. “You should be good.”

  “Thank you so much,” Anthony says. “I owe you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell him and then look at Sandy. “Call me later.” I try to turn around, but the tone in her voice stops me.

  “Oh, fuck no,” she says, and I know with that tone we are having this out here. “You look like you lost a good ten pounds, and considering that you were skinny AF before, you look horrible.”

  “Wow,” I say, “thanks.” I fold my arms over my chest. Okay, maybe I lost a little weight but not ten pounds.

  “I know what you need,” she says, and I close my eyes, knowing this isn’t going to be good. She is going to come up with a plan I’m not going to like, but I will go through with it to shut her up. Like the stakeout. “You need to get back out there. You had a taste of the D, and you need more of it.” She then turns to Anthony. “Your friend Dante, call him. We are going on a double date. Tonight.”

  “Oh, no,” I say, holding up my hands. “No fucking way.”

  “Anthony, call him,” she says, and he takes out his phone and starts typing away. “Why aren’t you calling him?”

  “Because we’re guys; we text,” he tells her, then looks at me. “You know she is just going to hound you if you don’t go along. Might as well give in now and suck it up for an hour.”

  “See,” she says, pointing at him, “my man gets me.”

  “Whatever,” I say, knowing she isn’t going to let up. “I’ll go for thirty minutes, then I have things to do.”

  “Like what? Starve yourself, watch Netflix?” she says, folding her arms over her chest.

  “I don’t even know why we are friends,” I tell her and then turn to walk out when she starts laughing. Thirty minutes and she will get off my case. Thirty minutes sitting at a table on another blind date. I can do this.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hunter

  “Where the fuck is everybody?” I say, yelling from my office, and hear Rachel yelling back.

  “Away from your cranky ass!” she yells, and I roll my eyes.

  “There is a staff meeting at three!” I yell back.

  “Oh, good, I can’t wait!” she yells back, and I close my eyes. I’ve been in hell this week. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything but see Laney’s hurt face in my head going around and around on replay. I’ve tried calling her, but it goes straight to voice mail, so I know she blocked my number. The only thing I can do is leav
e her the notes, but even I can take the hint.

  Every night, I go home exhausted, expecting to fall asleep. Hoping to fuck that sleep will come and take me. Instead, I toss and turn the whole night because the sheets still smell like her.

  She was all around me. Monday morning, I placed the first rose on her doorstep. Then I went to my Audi and watched for her. She doesn’t know this is my second car, so she didn’t see me. I watched her pick the rose up and bring it to her nose; the need to hold her face in my hands almost had me running up the stairs. I expected her to text me. I expected something, but got nothing, so every night, I get her a rose and write my note, placing it outside her door.

  Today, I placed the last rose on her doorsteps. Maybe she doesn’t care. Maybe she’s moved on. Maybe I felt more than she did.

  I grab the file in my hand and walk downstairs, seeing everyone gathered for the staff meeting. Dante and Brian sit together and are going over the basketball game last night. Dominic is looking at something with Rachel, and Anthony sits alone while he types away on his phone, and I have the need to throat punch him.

  If it wasn’t for him and his dick, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” I say, and everyone looks up. “I just got word that the VP is coming to town for a family vacation, so we have our work cut out for us. We handle the exterior; his team will handle the interior.” I tell Rachel the address of the location, and she punches it in. The house pops up on the big projection screen.

  Going over the plans, we look at the projection pictures as Rachel switches from angle to angle. When we think we have everything covered, Rachel laughs, and we all look over at her.

  “Gentlemen,” she says. Pressing the keys on her computer, she brings up the plans. “Here, here, and here,” she says, pointing out three separate holes in our plan, so we take notes to tighten it up. Another reason I can’t fire her.

  “Good catch.” I nod at her, and she just shrugs her shoulders. “So, if that is all,” I say, concluding the meeting, “I think we are done. Have a great weekend because next week is going to be nuts.” Rachel gets up, walking upstairs. I watch her, but I also notice Dante watching her. He waits for her to be out of earshot before turning to the guys. Something is up there, but I don’t want to cross any lines. I’m putting the file back together when I hear Dante talk first, his voice lower than usual. “So, is this chick you’re setting me up with really hot?”

  I look at Anthony, who looks at me, and then looks at Dante right away. “Um ...”

  “Is she really a dentist?” he says, and I slam my hand on the desk.

  “You’re setting Laney up with Dante?” I yell at him.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. Maybe.”

  “You are not touching her.” I point at Dante, then turn to Anthony. “You are not setting her fucking up.”

  “I’m not,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender. “Sandy is.”

  “You’re going on a blind date?” I hear Rachel say from behind him, and his face goes white. “Really.”

  He looks at the guys who are looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

  I don’t even bother waiting for whatever is going on there to play out. Instead, I turn to Anthony. “That woman,” I say, closing my eyes and holding the bridge of my nose.

  “She wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Anthony starts. “We went to fix my tooth, and well, Laney looked horrible, so Sandy got on her case.” I look at Dante, who is looking at Rachel, who is glaring at him. If looks could kill, Dante would be roadkill.

  “I can explain.” Dante now gets up and looks at Rachel.

  “This is so much better than I thought it would be,” Dominic says, slapping Brian’s arm. “We should have brought popcorn,” he says, and Brian just smirks and shakes his head.

  “I really don’t need to hear your explanation on how you were going on a blind date tonight. Tonight,” she says, walking to her desk and tossing her earpiece on it.

  “Rach,” he says, and now even I watch as he calls her that. No one calls her Rach. “He cornered me,” Dante starts. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “My sister cornered me,” she starts, and Dante now glares back at Anthony.

  “Your sister hates me,” he points out.

  “My mother cornered me, my aunt cornered me, my grandmother fucking cornered me,” she shouts, “yet I went on zero blind dates!” She grabs her purse, looking at me. “I’m out.”

  “Where the fuck are you going?” Dante yells.

  “None of your business,” she snaps at him. “Enjoy the date.” She tries to walk past him, and he snatches her arm. Dominic and Brian now sit up. “Get your hands off me.”

  “Fuck this,” he says, and his other hand comes out and grabs her face. “Enough,” he says before he’s kissing her. We are sitting here waiting to see if she wants this or not, ready to pick up the pieces of Dante’s balls if she doesn’t.

  Standing up, Dominic digs in his pocket and pulls out a twenty, handing it to Brian. “Called it,” Dominic says when Brian grabs the twenty and puts it in his front pocket of his jacket.

  Dante lets go of Rachel and then grabs her hand, looking at us. “We’re together.”

  “Really?” Anthony finally says. “Is that why you were sucking her face?”

  Dante rolls his eyes at him but doesn’t release Rachel. Anthony now looks at Dominic and Brian. “Any of you free for a blind date?” They both smirk, shaking their head. “She looks horrible,” he says, looking at me, then back at the guys, hoping one of them bites. The guys avoid eye contact. “I feel bad.”

  “She doesn’t look horrible,” I tell him, and he turns his head at me questioningly.

  “How would you know?” he asks.

  “I …” I say, tapping my fingers on the desk, “I may follow her in the morning.”

  “Oh my god,” Dante says and looks at the other two guys who just sit there with their eyes bulging out of their head.

  “You follow her?” Anthony says, slapping his hand down on the table. “You follow her?” he repeats himself.

  “I wouldn’t have to follow her if it wasn’t for you and your chafed dick!” I yell at him.

  “Oh, no,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re not blaming me for this. You and that non-filter on your mouth got you in this mess. My dick was maybe ten percent responsible for it.”

  “If it wasn’t for your dick, Sandy wouldn’t have thought to follow you and then have Laney come also,” I point out to him.

  “MY DICK WAS RAW!” he yells. When I hear Rachel’s laughter from beside me, I look at her to see her standing in front of Dante with his hands around her chest, pulling her close to him. Anthony stands now, but he’s still talking. “Do you know how much sex one has to have for his dick to become raw?” When he looks around the room to see if anyone is going to answer him, he turns back. “A fuck ton.” I roll my eyes. “I never thought it would be possible, but seven hours of sex will literally make your dick bleed.”

  “Did you take anything?” Dominic asks. “I think the most time I had sex was for three hours, but it was on and off.”

  “No.” Anthony shakes his head. “My dick just saw her and boom, saluting.” He uses his arm to point up.

  “We are getting off topic here,” I tell them.

  Anthony turns to me. “Um, no, I think we are right on topic. You are a creepy stalker. And you need an intervention.”

  “I’m not a stalker, all right? I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” I tell them and look up.

  “Well, she’s not,” Anthony says. “She looks horrible.” I glare at him. “Sandy said it; I didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m coming to dinner with you tonight, so Dominic and Brian, you’re out,” I tell them. Dominic just puts his hands up, and Brian nods. Then I look at Anthony. “You’re not coming either.”

  “Well, then how the hell do you plan on talking to her?” he asks, and I make a plan.

&nb
sp; “You text Sandy and tell her we are going to Guadalupe’s,” I tell him.

  “Amazing,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been dying for Mexican.”

  “You aren’t coming,” I tell him, and he raises an eyebrow. “You text Sandy and tell her to ask Laney to meet us there, but you don’t come. I’ll be there waiting for her.”

  “I don’t know,” Anthony says. “Sandy will be pissed.”

  “What is the worst that can happen? She doesn’t give you sex, and your dick recuperates?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Now, text Sandy and make sure that Laney gets there at seven,” I say, walking out of the room and putting a plan in motion. Anthony texts me that it’s been done. I leave the office and go to Guadalupe and tell her my plans. She isn’t happy with me when I tell her why I am in the doghouse, but she understands.

  You see, Guadalupe and I met when we took a mission to Mexico to rescue a girl who was kidnapped, and she was in the same cell with the girl. What she didn’t know was that her husband was one of the drug cartel’s informants. She thought he was a cop, but when she found out he was dirty, she was going to go to the police, but he got to her before she had the chance.

  Once we landed, she told the US government some key information about things, and they put her in the witness protection. No one really knows of the restaurant except the men who brought her here and some local surfers.

  I grab a blanket and a wooden pallet, placing it on the beach. Surrounding it with lanterns, I grab a couple throw pillows and place them on either side of the pallet. Guadalupe comes out and starts putting some roses on the table and a lantern in the middle. “The food inside is all set up,” she tells me at six thirty. “Good luck, Mr. Hunter,” she says and walks away.

  I sit on the blanket, taking off my shoes and socks. I shrug off my jacket and roll up the sleeves to my baby blue button-down shirt. I look at my watch every single second until I hear the crunch of the pebbles from her car. I take a deep breath in and exhale it. “This is it,” I tell myself, my heart suddenly pounding faster than ever. My hands get sweaty and clammy, and I rub them on the front of my pants.