by Karen Gordon
I hand him the form across his desk. “This needs your approval.”
He glances over it as if he has a clue what it is about. Good acting, Jack. When he nods his approval and starts to sign it, he pointedly asks, “What are you up to this weekend?”
There is no way I’m mentioning Dom’s party. Jack would think it was funny to crash it. “Same as always, a night alone with my pretend boyfriend.”
“Did he come with the frame?” He thinks he’s so damn clever.
I brought him up, so I might as well spill the beans. “His name is Danny. He’s working in Saudi Arabia.”
“Damn, he went a long way to get away from you.” I walked right into that one and the small amount of truth in it hurts.
I look down at the floor when I admit, “Yeah, he did.”
That shuts Jack up. He wasn’t expecting me to concede so easily. But it hurt and I’m beyond ready to get away from him and all the pressure here. We fall into an uncomfortable silence and I turn to leave. Before I do, Jack reaches into his desk drawer and takes out an envelope. He casually holds it between his index and middle finger as he reaches across his desk with it. He’s trying to look detached and cool, but I see nervous anticipation when he won’t meet my eyes.
“I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He’s like some middle-schooler giving a gift to a girl he likes.
I step forward and take it from him. There’s nothing written on the outside and it’s sealed. “Should I open it now?”
He shrugs, but watches my hands to see if I will. I take a letter opener from his desk and he laughs at my perfectionism. He would, no doubt, just tear the thing open. I’m glad I didn’t tear it when I unfold what’s inside. There’s no note attached to the stock certificate that is made out to me for two hundred shares of JetStream stock.
I question him with my eyes.
“Your signing bonus…from me.”
Right now you could knock me over with a feather. Jack Rockhurst is being kind and generous, very generous. It doesn’t get past me that he went with exactly double what his dad gave me. Yes, this is Jack showing some appreciation, but it’s also him one-upping Joel. It looks like I’m in the middle of a gifting war. Hell, yeah!
I make sure that I gush appropriately. “Wow! This is really from you, isn’t it?”
He answers like I’m stupid. “I just handed it to you, didn’t I?” We’re back to sparring.
“Ok, I know, but I mean this is your stock, isn’t it?”
Again, he answers condescendingly. “No, it’s your stock. See the name on the certificate.” It’s funny how much he enjoys goading me.
“Yes.” I look at the paper again, knowing I’m holding about thirty-thousand dollars in my hand. “I can read. I just mean…” I look up and he’s smirking at me, so smug and proud of himself. I say, “Thank you,” but throw in a sarcastic, “Boss-man” at the end.
He sits back in his chair. “God damn right, and don’t you forget it.” He’s trying to come off as joking, but I know he’s half serious.
“You are definitely not someone I could forget, Jack.” I turn to leave and add, “No matter how hard I try,” as I walk out his door. I love getting in the last word.
When I get back to my office, my phone buzzes with a text from him.
That’s enough of this shit for me today. Try not to wear out BOB this weekend.
What the hell? I text back.
His name is Danny and he’s in Saudi.
I’m almost not shocked by his so-inappropriate-for-work reply. He better hope I stick around for his entire career or I could use this text against him someday.
That’s why you have your Battery Operated Boyfriend—BOB—get it???
I don’t reply.
✈✈✈
The fact that I get an hour nap before I have to get ready for Dom’s big night is probably an even better gift from Jack than the stock. I believe it’s considered rude if the maid of honor falls asleep before the bachelorette party ever hits the first bar. As the bride’s main partner in crime this has been my event to plan and I’ve pulled out all the stops, well sort of.
My money situation is getting obscene, in a good way, I guess. Between my inheritance, my pay raise and now two huge bonuses, I have more in savings than I ever dreamed I would. Being as frugal as I am, I could probably safely retire.
When I started planning this night for Dom, I wanted to go all out. I wanted to spend my money on the person I love most in this world. But as I started planning, I realized that I was looking at spending more on the bachelorette party than Dom would on her wedding, and it just seemed wrong. It felt loud and obnoxious and obscene, and it didn’t fit Dom. She loved working hard and playing bingo with her and Luis’s family to save up her wedding money. Each dollar meant something to her. She lived to figure out how to make each element perfect for her within her budget. It’s a game she and I both love to play.
Now, I have no budget and it kind of takes some of the fun out of it. I didn’t tell Dom about the stock from Joel, and I didn’t want to tell her about the bonus from Jack either. I had never kept secrets from her. But things were changing so quickly. She’s getting married and planning to start a family. I’m getting deeper and deeper into my job. I can already see that we will have less time for each other, and I don’t want the money to be another thing that might separate us.
So, I backed off from paying for everyone’s dinner at a high-end steak house, and told each girl that we would all pay for ourselves and go to Dom’s favorite Italian restaurant. I did foot the bill for the party limo, and told the other girls that I got some sort of huge discount through work. Now that I think about it, Jack might have an account with them. Maybe I should charge it to him.
✈✈✈
It’s a fantastic party, the perfect combination of sweet and raunchy that is my best friend. The older ladies join us at the restaurant for dinner, drinks and gifts. Dom pulls in enough lingerie for a new look each night for months. Luis’s crazy Aunt Delores gives her a huge basket of sex toys, and Dom blushes and stammers appropriately which makes me laugh till I cry. I know she’s putting on a good act because she’s really thinking “finally, some replacements for all those Luis and I have worn out.” Did I mention Dom is my kinky advisor and idol? The girl knows no fear or shame when it comes to trying new things in bed, and I always wonder if Luis knows how much I know about him.
The older ladies beg off after dinner, and we board the party limo for our bar tour. I’ve made sure it’s stocked with everyone’s favorite drinks, shots galore, our party shirts and pre and post party goodie bags. Shirts are flying off and a few bras as the chicas put on their “Cheers Bitches” shirts. Dom does a damn good strip tease as she takes off her shirt and puts on her “Future Mrs.” Shirt. On the way to the first bar, I go over our itinerary, pass out the scavenger hunt sheets and reveal the grand prize for the winner, a rabbit vibrator. There are lots of oooh’s and ahhh’s and a few shouts about which girl needs it most. I’m lucky they aren’t aware of my dismal track record or they might just assign it to me. Dom is beaming, surrounded by her posse and able to completely relax and enjoy what she knows will be an impeccable bachelorette party because I planned it. She knows that everything will be top of the line and planned for optimum fun. All the nights I stayed up past two a.m. planning this are worth it right now.
✈✈✈
Stop number four is The Rail where Danny used to work and where I can’t keep my drunk eyes off Sam, my one night stand, who is working the bar. I really need to learn his last name, and kiss him. I decide I definitely need to kiss him again, and possibly more than that.
Dom is too busy trying to find a guy to give her a condom, number four on the scavenger hunt list, to be my wing-girl, so I have to get really brave and approach Sam myself. I smile at him and he gives me a quick smile in return. Shy, over-thinking Viv kicks in and I wonder if he even remembers me. I really haven’t seen him since the night I sucker-punche
d Danny. I laugh at the memory and miss him.
I look down, afraid to look up and see if Sam is looking my way, and notice the scavenger hunt sheet sticking out of my purse. Damn I’m good. I wasn’t even thinking about Sam when I made them, but number six is have a bartender buy you and drink and number eleven is kiss a bartender. I unfold my sheet and motion him my way. I’m going to check off number six, number eleven and add a few more on to create my own bonus prize.
Chapter Nine
I wake up in a pool of drool with my head on a warm chest. I try to remember whose warm chest it might be and decide just how mortified I should be about drooling on them. I assess the situation as much as possible without moving my head.
Whoever it is still has on a pair of jeans, this is good, I guess. I’m still wearing my jeans, which is possibly even better. However, it feels like neither of us is wearing a shirt, interesting. I gently crane my neck to see his face. Sam opens his eyes slowly and looks down at me. I try to discreetly wipe away the drool.
He catches me and laughs and asks, “How you feeling?”
I note all the pain in my head and my body and I wince. “Kind of shitty.”
This makes him laugh harder, and his chest shakes under my ear causing more pain.
“What did I do last night?”
“Not much last night, but around three a.m. you kidnapped me.”
OK, not the worst idea I’ve ever had.
“You and the other girls decided you wanted to take me home in the party limo.”
“And, I actually got you all the way here.” I roll onto my back to give him some space.
“Yeah.” He pulls his wrist out from under my neck and rolls it around like he’s injured it. “We got here. It was getting up the stairs that wasn’t so easy.” He shows me a big bruise on his forearm.
I touch it gingerly. “Damn. Did I do that?”
“We fell down the stairs.”
“But one of us was a lot more drunk than the other.”
He gets up from the bed and looks around for his shirt. “Don’t worry about it.” When he finds it and puts it on I see bright colored stains on it. “What happened to your shirt?”
He looks at the stains. “The same thing that happened to yours.” He picks mine up off the floor and holds it up. It’s also got bright colored splotches on it. “Your shots melted and left spots.”
I smack myself on the forehead, then wince in pain. “The food coloring. Fuck.”
“Everyone was determined to finish off the shots before the night was over, but they had melted and the girls kept falling off the seats and spilling them.”
I laugh at the mental picture and shake my head. I hope Dom had a great time at her party. I look at Sam with his bruised arm and stained shirt. “Sorry about last night. Did you have any fun?”
Luckily he’s still laughing as he’s putting his shoes on. “I kissed every girl there, so, yeah.”
I feel like hell, but I kind of don’t want him to go. Right now, Sam is a laid-back breath of fresh air, a reminder that I’m still young and fun. I want to hang out with him some more. I’m working on something to say, a way to try and get a date with him when my phone rings. I hold my finger up to Sam, asking him to wait and I answer the call without looking. It has to be Dom.
“Vivienne?” It’s Jack—a really irritated Jack.
“Jack?” I talk softly hoping he will do the same. His loud voice is killing my head.
It doesn’t work. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?”
I pull the phone back and stare at it. Sure enough, the entire screen is texts from Jack that start at seven a.m. What the hell? “Um, I’m off work.”
“Not when I need you. I’m in Durham, probably will be all week. You’ll either need to fly down today and work from here or if this thing falls apart I’ll be back in Savannah. So pack. You’re on standby. I’ll let you know if you’re coming down here or not.”
I’m so flabbergasted I almost forget that I asked Sam to wait. I hold my finger up again, hoping he’ll stay so I can talk to him. He’s pacing near my bedroom door, and I can tell he wants to get going. So, instead of arguing with Jack I say, “Fine, I’ll pack.” My compliance satisfies him so he hangs up.
Sam is waiting to hear what I have to say, and it’s only then that I realized that I’ve never asked a guy out on a date. Hell, I’ve hardly ever been able to talk to one I like when I’m sober. “That was my boss, sorry.”
“He’s loud.”
We both laugh, and I agree. I’m sure Sam could hear Jack from across the room. “And kind of an asshole.”
He smiles at that and still lingers in my doorway.
“So…I, um, well it looks like I might be out of town this week…but.” I realize that I also have Dom’s wedding next weekend—not a good date situation. “Ok, then I’m in my friend’s wedding next weekend…”
“Dom.” Of course he knows her. He’s probably kissed her.
“Yeah, Dom.” I can’t look at him and I’m twisting the sheet in my hand. I have the social skills of a middle-school geek. “Would you want to go out…with me…like, I don’t know…on a date…sometime?”
This is where he throws me down on the bed, kisses me and says, “YES!”-- in the movies. But this isn’t the movies, it’s me and my disastrous dating life. He pokes at a knot in the wood on my doorframe and leaves me hanging while he thinks of an answer. “Look, you’re obviously really busy and I’m in school and working at the bar, so…come by the bar and we can…you know, hang out, hook up, whatever.”
As if most of my body didn’t hurt already, now my ego is bruised too. I nod and tell him, “Ok,” and try to make it sound upbeat.
He turns to leave and I realize he doesn’t have a car here. “Do you need a ride somewhere?” I call as I’m coming out of the bedroom, putting a hoodie over my naked chest.
He glances at sunlight streaming in the window. “Na, it’s a nice day. I’ll walk.”
I stand in the same spot in the living room long after he’s left. I can rationalize that he’s right. Neither of us is in a good place to start dating, but that doesn’t help my embarrassment or make me any less sad. Because it’s not just Sam politely turning me down, it’s my job continuing to ruin my social life. It’s my relationship with a selfish asshole that’s keeping me from possibly starting one with a really great guy.
✈✈✈
I pack and wait. I call Dom and wait some more. At four o’clock I get a text from Jack telling me he needs me to come to Durham and to call the JetStream flight department to set up a plane to take me there.
Of course, the flight department has no clue what I’m talking about, but I have enough pull as Jack’s Executive Assistant to have them call up pilots and file a flight plan. An hour and a half later, everyone is in place and I’m driving to JetStream when I get another text from Jack.
Looks like I won’t need you here today but you’re still on standby.
I want to smack my phone against the steering wheel, but I use my hand instead, pretending it’s Jack’s dull brain I’m beating on. Doesn’t he know he’s pulled in pilots on a Saturday? The plane’s been fueled and flight checked by the maintenance guys who were also called in. I pull into a parking lot so I can call the flight department and cancel everything I set up earlier. I apologize profusely, but also warn that it might happen again. I obviously can’t give away why Jack is in Durham so I make up some lame excuse about Jack working on some negotiation and I try not to laugh.
Dom calls me, now fully awake, caffeinated and loving getting the inside scoop on all this drama.
“Fifty bucks says that his lawyer is working a last-minute deal to keep him out of court.”
“He still hasn’t told me why he’s there. Thanks for the trust, Jack.” It really irks me that he thinks he can hide this from me. I don’t do lies and half lies. I’m too damn busy and it takes too much time to work around them. Ever since Dom told me about this trial I’ve had to talk a
round it. It’s just one more way I have to coddle Jack.
“What if I called down there and pretended to be a reporter. I wonder if I could find out what’s happening.”
I love Dom’s detective side and I’m tempted to tell her to go for it, but it’s too much of a risk. “Thanks, but this’ll play itself out soon. I can’t image the amount of money being offered, but chances are the girl will take a settlement and that will be the end of it.” As much as I don’t want to go to Durham and deal with a frantic Jack facing a trial I hope the girl doesn’t take the money. Someone needs to make Jack accountable and my gut still tells me he’s guilty. But that’s a lot to ask of this one girl. Even I, with all my super powers, have one hell of a time just keeping up with the path of chaos and destruction that follows Jack around.
“OK, much better topic.” Dom knows it’s time to pull my head out of Jack’s shit. “Tell me about Sam the two-night-stand. Who’s a really great kisser, by the way.”
I laugh when I tell her, “I’m glad you liked it because you got as far with him as I did.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I brought out my best smooth moves last night. I smashed his arm and majorly bruised it when I fell down the stairs, then must have passed out on him mid-sex because I woke up without a shirt, but still in my jeans.”
Dom laughs so hard she snorts.
“Fuck you!” I’m laughing now too.
“Oh, you are smooth.” She has to stop and laugh at me some more. “Sweetie, what the hell am I going to do with you? This dry spell keeps up much longer and I’ll have sex with you.”
“Very funny, but hold that thought. I may take you up on it someday…soon. See the problem is that you sort of have to go out somewhere to meet a guy and have a date and get laid.”
