1989: Once Bitten, Twice Shy: Love in the '80s: A New Adult Mix

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1989: Once Bitten, Twice Shy: Love in the '80s: A New Adult Mix Page 4

by Martin, Kelly


  “And who are you?” I don’t ask because I need something to talk about. I’m genuinely curious. I want to know him better… so it’ll help me with my job, of course. Why else would I want to hear anything he has to say? It’s for work… nothing more.

  Nothing. More.

  He leans back against the plush leather seat and clears his throat. This answer must require some thinking. I have to say I can relate, though. If someone were to ask me who I am, I’m not sure I could answer it. Who knows who or what they are at twenty-one? “I’m Chad. I like football and…”

  “Long walks on the beach,” I tease. That’s what the lady on the late night infomercial always says.

  “Actually I’m not a fan of the beach. Too many crabs.”

  “Touché. What else about you?” I sip my coffee for the third time. This time, I don’t feel like I’m going to gag, in fact, it tastes pretty good. Either I’m starting to like it, or I’m so into Chad’s story that I’ve forgotten how much of a bitter and vile drink this is. It could go either way.

  “I’m twenty-two. My home is in Nashville, but I’ve traveled all over. My father is a business man on top of being a senator so money has never been any object.”

  My face falls. Money is always an object for me. “Wish more people were that lucky.”

  “I don’t mean to brag, please don’t think I am. I only mean that I’ve traveled, I have seen things, but I believe Nashville, this coffee shop especially, is my favorite place in all the world. Present company included.”

  “I believe, Mr. Harris, that you are sucking up to me.”

  “Never.”

  The old man beside us rolls his eyes. I think the old woman is into it though.

  “What else? Been to college? You said the tabloids painted you as a Romeo, any girlfriends?” Dangerous ground I’m treading. Oh well, it’ll help him trust me more if he sees me asking these types of questions and not ‘assuming’ things about him. I’ve assumed enough.

  “I graduated from Vanderbilt about two years ago. My degree is in finance, but I haven’t used it yet. I make my money traveling the world, modeling mostly. I do freelance accountant work from time to time.”

  “Lucky clients.” I bite my lip ever so slightly like I do when I'm turning the flirt on. All part of the plan.

  “Yeah, well. I hope they think so. As for girlfriends…” He sighs and clears his throat. Surely this can’t be hard for him to talk about. The man told me about his sex tape, for crying out loud. Girlfriends should be an easy thing to discuss. “I’ve gone out with my share of girls, I’m not going to lie. None of them as pretty as you.”

  I try to glare. I think it comes off as that I’m flattered. Glory.

  “My last girlfriend, her name was Dana. We dated about six months, and it was nice, but…”

  “But…” It is interesting to hear him talk about Dana. After all, it is rare that my marks talk about the girl who hired me.

  “Dana was… different.”

  “Different how?”

  “She always loved the limelight more than me. She wanted to go to all these events, and if I didn’t, she’d have a fit. Don’t get me wrong, she was a sweet girl, but when she broke up with me, it wasn’t the saddest day of my life.”

  “Wait, she broke up with you?” I bite my lip before I add because I thought you broke up with her. He’d know I knew him, and we can’t have that.

  He nods. “Came out of the blue, too. Anyway.” He reaches over the table and places his hands over mine, which are still holding onto my coffee. I’m not sure which one is warmer, my drink or his hands. “Dana is a sweet girl, but I think she liked the spotlight more than she liked me. It is alright, though, because if she hadn’t broken up with me, I couldn’t be sitting here with you.”

  Here we go. Here is the smooth talker I expected. Nice to know I wasn’t wrong about him. Though, to be fair, it would have been nice to be a little wrong about him. For some reason, I don’t want him to be a jerk. I want him to be the nice guy who helped me out and bought my coffee. Those thoughts are dangerous. If I’m not careful, I can see myself falling for Chad Harris, and I can’t have that happen. He’s not good for me, and he’s definitely not good for business.

  “Smooth.” I giggle, and don’t move my hands. I like his on mine. God help me.

  “I try. So…” He rubs his thumb over my knuckles. Glorious land. His touch is electric, like little currents running from my fingers through my body. I can see why all those girls fell for him. I won’t be one of them. I’m too smart for this.

  “So?” My mind says to move my hands. My body won’t let me. It is enjoying the sensations Chad is creating. It’s been a while since anyone has made me tingle. Yeah, this is a very bad thing.

  “So, after this is all said and done and you drink your coffee and we go our separate ways, do you think we will ever see each other again?”

  Whoa. This is going better than I even thought it was. It is almost too easy. There is a nagging thought in the back of my mind to be leery of how easy this is. I push it far, far down. I should be grateful. I’m getting paid and doing hardly any work.

  “I think that can be arranged.” I move my hands then, but only so I can get his hand undermine and rub his fingers. I’ve always been good at flirting. One has to be in my profession. I decide to tone it down a little with Chad, though. He’s already into me. No sense showing all my cards now.

  “Excellent.” He beams. It’s actually really nice to see someone this happy to spend time with me. Too bad it isn’t going to be able to go anywhere. “How about tomorrow? Say noon? We can go somewhere with less coffee.”

  Sounds like heaven to me. “Noon I have class. What about three? Maybe an early supper?”

  It is sort of a lie. I don’t have a class at noon, but this gives me more time to get ready for this date. I can zero in on the perfect revenge and think about how I’m going to spend my money.

  “Early supper it is. Where should I pick you up?”

  I write down my dorm address for him on a napkin. “You can buzz before you come in.”

  “Why don’t you give me your phone number so I can just call you and you can meet me outside?”

  That is also a good plan. I write the number down next to my address and pass it to him with a smile. My heart is beating so hard, and none of it is from the excitement of revenge. I’m actually, dare I say, excited about seeing Chad tomorrow. No matter what I try to tell myself, I want to spend time with him. Maybe I can draw this out, indulge in a little fantasy before I have to do my job. Dana will be happy because it’ll hurt worse for Chad, and I’ll be happy because it’ll give me a bit of normalcy in my life. Well, as normal as this can be.

  Chad takes the napkin from me and reads it. His face falls for a brief moment, and he swallows hard. I don’t think he wanted me to notice his reaction. Before I could mention it, he puts the napkin in his pocket and starts to slide out of his seat. “Shall we?” He reaches out his hand, which I accept.

  “We shall.” My foot is still hurting, but I think the rest did it good. It isn’t hurting as much as it did before. Maybe if I ice it tonight it’ll feel much better tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll do with my butt bruise. Live with it, I suppose.

  Chad helps me outside where the rain has stopped, replaced by sunshine and a rainbow which arches over campus. “Beautiful,” I say.

  “Beautiful.” I catch him looking at me.

  I feel like a giddy school girl.

  He holds the cab door open for me as I slide in. He doesn’t get in with me. “I have a meeting up the street. A heartbreaking Romeo’s job is never done.” He smiles, but somehow it doesn’t reach his eyes. Something is different about him, about how he is relating to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I say the wrong thing or make him suspicious about something?

  “Are you okay?” I say before I can stop myself. I care about what he has to say. Ugh, why do I care?

  He seems genuinely surprised by the ques
tion. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” He leans inside and kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” I say as the driver drives away.

  I turn around and watch as Chad Harris slowly gets farther and farther away. I miss him already.

  This is not good.

  I hobble into the dorm room and toss my bag on my desk. I need a soak in a tub. Unfortunately, there isn’t a tub here, so I’ll take a shower, a Tylenol, and rest. I have a little bit of homework tonight, but it can wait.

  I think I’ll take a cold shower today.

  Showers aren’t easy with sprained ankles. I make do, and take my sweet time before I get out. After making sure I’m alone, I take time to look at my bottom in the mirror. Sure enough, my right cheek is one solid black and blue bruise. I just hope I can sit tomorrow.

  I get back to the room and rummage around until I find something to wrap around my ankle. My dad made me pack it when I moved in here years ago saying, “You might need it someday.” Today is that day. I wrap up my foot securely in the bandage and prop it up on the pillow. I settle back, careful of my butt bruise, cross my arms, and close my eyes. I need a nap to recharge before I figure out what in the world I’m going to do about Chad.

  Amy comes in. I don’t open my eyes. I love Amy, but I don’t have the energy to talk to her.

  Seems she doesn’t have the energy to talk to me either. She disappears as quickly as she comes in. She must have something to do tonight. Strange. She never has anything to do.

  I wonder if Johnny Slade called and they are making up.

  I hope not. Nothing against the horned Johnny Slade, but Amy deserves better. We all deserve better.

  When I almost give in to blessed, much needed sleep, the phone rings, causing me to jump, land on my bruised bottom and takes seventeen years off my life. Stupid phone.

  I get myself together before reaching over to the table between Amy’s bed and mine to grab the phone. It could be a client. I’ve never had two clients in a row, but it would certainly help the old pocketbook. Not falling for Chad Harris would help the old pocketbook too.

  “Hello?”

  “Once Bitten?” Ugh, it’s Dana. I don’t want to talk to Dana. Typically, my clients don’t call me and check up on things. I suppose Dana is a special little flower. The rarest of the Little Ponies.

  “Dana, it is good to hear from you.” I totally lie. I totally don’t feel bad about it.

  “Just checking in. Did you meet with Chad? Did everything go as planned?”

  Yes, I met with him. No, it didn’t go as planned. “We met. We have plans for tomorrow evening as well. Things are going well.”

  “Don’t get attached to him,” she warns, surprising me.

  “I’m not…”

  “I’m serious. Lots of girls have gotten attached to him in the past and we’ve all gotten hurt. Do yourself a favor and keep this strictly business.”

  “Always do, Dana. I do have one thing I’d like to discuss with you. You told me that you wanted the ultimate revenge on Chad, and I understand that. I do, however, most of my revenge comes from blackmail based on pictures in inappropriate positions and what not. Chad Harris is famous because of a sex tape. I don’t think he cares if anything inappropriate comes out.”

  The line is silent for a moment. “You misunderstand me. I could give a rat’s ass about Chad in bed, screwing whoever. That’s old news. What I want… look, Chad isn’t as innocent as he looks. He’s gotten a lot of money doing a lot of illegal things.”

  “Illegal?”

  “Drugs. He takes them. He pushes them. He’s not the all-American guy he claims to be. You get me damning evidence of his drug problem or, hell, paying a hooker, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “That goes way beyond revenge. That goes into breaking the law. If those pictures get out, Chad could go to jail.”

  “I called you because I heard you were the kind of person who didn’t get emotionally involved with anyone. Did I hear wrong?”

  “No, but…” There is a difference in not getting involved and possibly getting him in a lot of trouble with the law.

  She sighs. “Look, I understand your moral dilemma. I do. So let me make it worth your while. If you do a normal revenge scheme, make him fall in love with you then break his heart, I will be happy. I promise, and I will pay you the thousand. However, if you feel you are up to playing with the big boys, I will pay you handsomely.”

  “How handsomely?” I don’t want to know… I don’t want to know…

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  I die.

  Five thousand dollars!

  Five…

  “The choice is yours. What can your conscience live with?”

  Click.

  I hang up the phone right after Dana and fall back on my bed. Five thousand dollars to get proof of Chad’s drug use, or his alleged drug use. Just because I get Dana pictures doesn’t mean she’ll go to the police with them, right? I mean, I’ve gotten pictures for all my clients in one way or the other and they used them for blackmail, revenge, whatever. No one ever went to jail.

  Chad Harris won’t go to jail.

  Dana only wants the pictures to—I don’t know what she wants the pictures for, to be honest.

  Should I care as long as she is willing to pay me five thousand dollars?

  There is a very interesting dot on the ceiling that I stare at until Amy sneaks in at around ten. My mind says I should go for it. I need the money. She’s offering money. Whatever she does with the pictures is on her conscience, and if he really is doing drugs and he gets caught, then good. Another drug bastard off the street. I’ve not had much use for dealers since my mom died of an overdose.

  However, my heart keeps bugging me, saying that something isn’t adding up right. Chad and Dana dated a long time. Why couldn’t she get evidence of this drug use? What did he do to her that she wants to hurt him so badly?

  And the thought that I try so hard not to think about: do I really have feelings for Chad? Could I have made a connection in the few minutes I spent with him today? Can I live with myself if I help ruin his life?

  Can I live with myself if I don’t take the five thousand dollars?

  I forget to do my homework.

  I forget everything but the horrible fight going on inside my mind.

  Revenge is supposed to be easy. This isn’t easy. This is torture.

  What am I supposed to do?

  Amy is gone when I wake up. That’s not like her. Normally, she is the first to bed and the last to get up. The girl loves her sleep.

  My normal philosophy is that I can sleep when I’m dead.

  This morning, I feel dead.

  I decide not to go to any of my classes today. I’ll take a sick day. Frankly, I am sick. At the very least, I’m beaten up. I can walk on my ankle, which is good. But it hurts like a mother so that isn’t good.

  And my poor bottom.

  I may never sit normally again.

  Instead of going to my classes, I spend the morning working on the work I didn’t do last night. I’ll turn it in before I get ready for my date with Chad.

  It seems so funny calling it a date. Technically it is. We are going somewhere together. He obviously thinks of it as a date. I think of it as a job. A very complicated job.

  It takes me three hours to do work that normally takes me twenty minutes. I can’t focus. Dana’s offer has taken over my mind. First of all, how can she ever get five thousand dollars? I don’t think I see that much in a year. Secondly, why does she want to hurt him this badly? I get revenge. I have an entire business dedicated to it. What I don’t get is why go this far? Unflattering pictures? Yes. Heartbreak? Yes. Ruining someone’s life? No.

  And I’d never have given it a second thought if not for that damn five thousand dollars.

  God knows I need it.

  It is an answer to a prayer I didn’t know I prayed.

  I could get a business cell phone so
I wouldn’t have to come clean about Once Bitten to Amy, and I would have some left over to help Dad with the bills. Maybe buy me something nice.

  All the while avoiding all magazines and the subsequent lynching of Chad Harris. The tabloids would have a field day. Sex tape is one thing. Drugs, especially after the whole Nancy Reagan thing, is another. His father would more than likely disown him. I just… I don’t know if I can do it.

  A little before twelve, I pick up the phone and call my dad. He’s been laid off for a few days from the textile mill so I know he’ll be home. Far as I know, he’s been going every day to find another job. Nothing has come available yet. Everyone seems to be looking for a job now. The news says the job market is getting better. Somehow, I don’t believe them.

  The only money I see is in revenge.

  My dad answers on the second ring. “David Corbin.” He has answered the phone that way as long as I remember. The man would never settle with a simple hello.

  “Hey, Dad.” I question whether I should have called him. He’ll think something is wrong me calling him in the middle of the day. Something is wrong, only I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him about Chad Harris and I can’t tell Amy about Once Bitten. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live in a world without secrets?

  “Bug? What are you doing home this time of day? What about classes?” Yup, I knew this was a bad idea. Sometimes, though, a girl just needs to hear her father’s voice.

  “Classes were canceled today. The teacher is sick.” I hate lying to him. I hate him prying more.

  “Too bad. So what did you do with your morning? Sleep in?” He says with a laugh.

  “If only. Working on homework, actually.”

  “Uh-huh.” He suddenly turns very serious. “You know, Bug, this is your last year in college and I’m so proud of you. You keep your grades up, you hear? Keep your scholarship because… just cause.”

  I know what he’s not saying. The money is gone. Scholarships have helped get me this far, but I know of two that will expire before next semester. I don’t know how I’ll pay for my last semester… and my father knows it.

 

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