by A. V. Scott
“The better question is… will his wife mind?”
“Sorry. I’m sure you’ll soon find another victim.”
“Sweetie, single men are incomplete animals and married men are complete animals,” Christina said, catching the bartender’s attention and ordering another drink. “I have a date with him tomorrow.”
“There is something absolutely completely wrong with men in New York,” Melissa said
“Melissa if there’s one piece of advice that I can give you is this, stop taking men seriously. The moment you do it all goes downhill. You have to play with them, treat them like the scum that they are and then kick them to the curb like yesterdays’ garbage.”
Melissa couldn’t believe the advice that Christina was giving her. Okay, who was she kidding? She did believe it. It was Christina after all.
“Mel, if you play with an ass he will flirt his tail in your face. So, don’t get mad at the bitch. Get even with the guy.”
Ironically enough that made total sense to Melissa. She gave a lot to her relationship with Jonathan and it didn’t work out. Not because she didn’t try or that she didn’t love him enough. It didn’t work because he just couldn’t keep his penis inside his pants. But she wasn’t going to continue to blame herself for it any longer. “Come on, let’s dance!” She said, grabbing Christina by the arm and pulling her towards the crowded dance floor.
They must’ve danced for hours before one of them decided to throw in the white flag and take a breather.
Dehydrated, Christina retreated to the bar. “I’ll get us some water.”
“Okay,” Melissa said. Needing to catch her breath, she sat down on one of the white loungers. The dance floor was crowded by now and she could barely see the view of the New York skyline from where she was sitting. But she was too tired to stand up just to get a good view.
“One can only be so lucky to witness such beauty,” a male voice whispered in her ear.
“It’s amazing isn’t it?” she sighed. Slowly, she turned to face him.
Crap.
It was the guy from the bar.
The look in his bright blue eyes confirmed he wasn’t talking about the skyline. For a moment, Melissa thought that he might be able to make her orgasm just by looking at her. His broad chest encased in a white linen shirt was teasing her to touch him. She wanted to touch the curves of his body. Get lost in it. She wondered if he was hairy. And hoped that he wasn’t. The fantasy quickly looming in her head wouldn’t work if he was. What the hell are you doing? She asked herself. This is not the time to think about sex.
He smiled as if he knew what she was thinking. For a moment, she wanted to say something cute and flirty but the words wouldn’t escape her mouth.
“If you stand over here,” he said, standing and signaling for her to follow him. “And look toward the Hudson River, you will be able to spy the Statue of Liberty.”
His ass looks real nice in those pants; her thoughts continued to escape her. She didn’t know why but she did it. She walked over like a puppy and stood right in front of him. He was right though, the view was one of the most unbelievable views she had ever seen. She was certain that watching the sun set and rise from where she was standing, would surpass any others she had ever witnessed. Goosebumps quickly covered her entire body when she realized how close he was standing behind her. Her heartbeat quickened. It was exhilarating. She hadn’t felt this way in a very long time.
Wanting to thank him for the drink he sent her earlier, she turned around. “Thanks for the-” But before she could finish, he was gone…again. This man was irking her. What the hell was his deal?
“You’ll never get laid if you walk around with that face,” Christina said, returning with two bottles of water.
“I can’t believe it,” Melissa exclaimed.
“Yeah, I know. In person her face looks like a mile of unpaved road,” Christina said, pointing to a young pop star on the dance floor.
“Wow,” she said, taking the water bottle from Christina, “Total unpaved road. But I wasn’t talking about that.”
“What happened with your hot guy?” Christina asked Melissa who looked miserable.
“Absolutely nothing,” Melissa said and grabbed Christina’s arm, leading her back to the bar. “It’s about time we had some real fun.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Christina said in agreement.
Somehow, between drinking and dancing, Melissa and Christina got separated. Eventually, Christina found Melissa crying about her pathetic life to a complete stranger.
“There you are,” Christina said. “I’m real sorry. She forgot to take her meds.” She told the guy Melissa had been spilling her guts to.
“Do you have any idea who that was?” Christina asked, embarrassed.
“A man?”
“Yes, a very wealthy and powerful movie producer of a man.”
“Oh.”
Christina shook his head and walked Melissa over to the bathroom so that she could freshen up. The bathroom was fabulous and nothing like Melissa had ever experienced before. The floors were white marble and pink lights were glowing from under them, the mirrors over the sinks were beveled in glittery silver and there was a Stepford Wives waitress handing out warm towelettes. The bathroom was also, co-ed. For an immature moment Melissa thought about turning around and running, but then she shored up her confidence and sauntered over to an empty bathroom stall. When she was done, she walked over to the pedestal sink and turned on the cold water in hopes that splashing some of it on her face would sober her up some.
Then from the corner of her eye she spotted a pair of familiar pink heels. She wanted to run. Scream. Faint. Valerie was standing next to her, fixing her makeup in the mirror. She hadn’t even noticed that Melissa was right next to her, staring and Melissa couldn’t believe that out of all the damn spots to go out she had to go to the one place where this damn man stealer had also decided to go.
“Hi baby. This party sucks so I’ll be home soon,” the whore said into her cell phone. Did she just say baby? Finding liquid courage, Melissa opened her mouth to say something to Valerie. Bitch was number one on her list. Can you imagine Melissa’s horror when instead of saying something fabulous, she threw up all over those cute pink heels?
“Are you out of your mind?” Valerie shrieked.
“I’m so sorry.” Melissa managed to say as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. She really was sorry too, not for her, for those poor shoes. They didn’t deserve it.
Then it dawned on her that Valerie didn’t recognize her. She steals her husband-to-be and her fairy tale life and she has the audacity to forget what she looks like? Just then Christina walked in looking for Melissa. “What’s taking you so damn long?” She asked and then opened her mouth in total shock when she noticed Valerie.
“Babe I have to go. A drunk bitch just threw up all over me,” Valerie said.
Bitch? Who is she calling a bitch? Christina must have seen the wrath in Melissa’s eyes because he was soon pulling her out of there.
“I’ll show you bitch you…” Melissa began to say, her words trailing behind her as Christina dragged her out of the bathroom and toward the elevators. “Can you believe that man stealing whore?”
“I can’t believe you threw up on her,” she said, laughing.
“I didn’t throw up on her. I threw up on those poor beautiful shoes,” Melissa was so angry at herself.
“I’m so bummed that I missed it.”
The elevator doors opened and Christina pushed her inside. She pressed the button for the lobby while Melissa tried to balance herself against the cold elevator walls. As the elevator door begin to close, once again Melissa’s eyes spot something she didn’t expect to see.
Angie.
And guess who she was talking to…
Valerie the whore!
9
Melissa woke up feeling as if a sixteen wheeler had run her over; everything hurt. She spent the entire night tossing an
d turning with visuals of seeing Angie so chummy with Valerie. Up until then, she thought that her friendship with Angie was salvageable but now, she wasn’t too sure. Did this mean Angie was cutting her off? Was this really the end to their friendship? Was a little five letter word really to blame for losing her best friend to Valerie or was there something else going on?
Dragging ass, she jumped in the shower and ten minutes later she was rummaging through her closet for the perfect outfit to wear to work. Through the corner of her eye she could see it, her wedding dress. Its hand woven lace detail was teasing her, calling to her…wear me…wear me. She shook her head and continued to look for something to wear that wouldn’t cause her a massive emotional breakdown.
Eventually, she got dressed in a black and white polka dot retro dress with a thin red belt. Her hair, though long, needed a hot oil treatment so badly she decided on a messy bun. Then, she began to look for her pair of red Gina sandals. Although they were a Valentine’s Day gift from Jonathan, they were also the only pair of flats that she owned. She looked in the closet…nothing; searched in the hallway shoe organizer, not there. Then she remembered she spotted them under the bed the other day. Kneeling on the floor, she also spots a small black leather organizer. It doesn’t look familiar. Upon further investigation, she realizes that it belongs to Jonathan.
“I guess he didn’t want this,” She said and threw it inside the shoe box which she placed back under the bed. Then she splashed on some perfume and a dab of lip gloss before giving herself a once over in the mirror. She was pleasantly satisfied with how she looked today. Then something shinny caught her attention in the reflection. It was her engagement ring. Having no reason to wear it anymore, she took it off and placed it inside her jewelry box before heading in to work.
Making a pit stop at the ATM, Melissa cringed as the words
NOT ENOUGH FUNDS flashed on the screen. Embarrassed, she told the person standing behind her that the machine was broken, pushed the heavy glass door of the bank open and walked out before the tears came.
Don’t do it.
Don’t cry.
Be strong!
What the hell was going on? There was supposed to be a little over three thousand dollars in her bank account. Clearly, the problem had to be the ATM and not her account. But, having only twenty minutes to work, she makes a mental note to stop by the bank right after.
Luckily, she had a couple of bills tucked in her purse. So, she stopped by her neighborhood coffee shop. Once she was armed with a Chai latte and vanilla cupcake, Melissa flagged down a lit cab. “Twenty third and Broadway,” she told the cab driver and then took her ringing cell phone from her purse. “Hi ma.”
“Sweetheart did you find out about the Tulips?”
“Tulips aren’t in season.”
Her mother sounds out of breath. “Really? What do you suggest then?”
“Well…”
“Don’t trim the hedges too short. You did that last time and I could see the neighbors,” Her mother screamed. Melissa assumed she wasn’t talking to her.
“Casa Blanca lily’s or Bells of Ireland.”
“Hmm. How about roses?”
“Too common.”
“I swear you can’t get good help these days.”
“Ma!”
“I don’t mean you. The lawn guy is here and he doesn’t do well without direction. How about delphims?”
“Delphiniums,” Melissa corrected. “They’re ugly ma. I’m not getting you those.”
“Well then surprise me. I have to go. He’s about to snip my rose bush.”
Lucky you, my bush won’t need any snipping for a while, Melissa said to herself. After the call, Melissa began to seriously consider heading back home. She couldn’t stop thinking about the cards that she had been dealt. It took her six months just to pick out a cake for her own wedding that now wasn’t happening and here she was planning her mothers’ entire wedding in just a few days. Life just wasn’t playing fair.
Turning the corner on Grand Street and Pitt, the cab swerves and misses a biker making Melissa grab hold of the door handle. “Seriously?” She screamed out at the driver. He looked at her through his rearview mirror and mumbled something. When he takes a right turn a little too tightly, she asks him to pull over across the street from a neighborhood park. She’d rather walk the rest of the distance than continue riding in the cab with a driver that thought he was in NASCAR.
She’d been walking for only a few feet when her brain filled with visions of Jonathan and Valerie again. She was so enthralled in these visions that she didn’t notice a man jogging with a golden retriever as they head directly toward her. His pace is fast and strangely erratic. He barely dodges a tree, and almost doesn’t clear the black iron fence surrounding the flower beds. As the dog gets closer, she finally notices them. By the time she realizes that the man is running after the dog, it’s too late.
“Watch out!” The man screamed at her.
There was nothing she could do to avoid the dog running straight into her. Hitting the ground hard, her knee breaks her fall and her cell phone tumbles out of her hand and into some bushes. “What the fuck?” She shouted. The dog is long gone. Its owner has stopped running and is crouching over her.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Damn dog. I swear I’m going to put that damn thing to sleep as soon as I can catch it,” The man tells her.
Melissa is on her knees, desperately searching for her phone, unaware that the man is staring at her. “Oh gosh no! Don’t do that. I’m ok.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” She lied. Her knee was definitely bleeding and throbbing from the pain but she was against animal cruelty.
“No matter how much money I invest in training, the damn thing finds a way to get loose and then he bolts. No one is safe,” He rambles on as he extends a hand to helping her up.
She accepts his hand and when she is standing face to face with him, she realizes she’s met him before. Standing in front of her is a gorgeous man with sandy brown hair, and familiar blue eyes. It was the same guy from the lounge the night before. “It’s you,” she said.
“Claude,” He said, introducing himself. “You look familiar.”
“Melissa.” She smiled. His hand is smooth and warm. This Claude guy is kind of cute, she thought. He’s a little shorter than she likes her men but his body seems to be in decent shape. At least, what she can make out of it from his running shorts and t-shirt. “You’re the guy from last night.”
“I suppose that I am,” he said smiling.
“Small world,” Melissa whispered, staring at him. “You better get your dog.” She signaled to the dog from hell who had decided to take a siesta atop a picnic blanket of a startled couple.
“Shit!” Claude abandoned his Good Samaritan post and attempted to reclaim his dog. Wobbling over to the nearest bench, she sits down in agony. Just when she started thinking that her bad luck was finally taking a turn for the better she’d literally get knocked down again. She wanted to scream. Instead, she looked on as Claude trampled over his dog and toward her direction.
“I’m really sorry.” He continues to tell her.
“No worries.”
“Let me make it up to you. How about dinner?”
“Um.” She thought about it. Dinner… With him? She didn’t think so. He was trouble and they both knew it. And she had had more trouble in last two days that could last the rest of the year.
“I promise Bella will not joining us,” he said, patting his dog.
“I appreciate the offer but...”
“You mustn’t say no. My mother would be highly disappointed in me if I didn’t find a way to make it up to you. After all, Bella nearly took off your leg.”
It was a nice gesture considering the person driving the sedan that caused her sprained ankle didn’t even bother to stop and make sure that she was ok. However, her life was in disarray. The last thing she needed was another distraction from a cute guy. And, ho
w would it look going out on a date with him within a month of Jonathan? And while pregnant? “No. Thanks. I’m not dating right now.”
“Oh.” He walked over to the bushes and leaned over, grabbing something from the ground. He walked over to her and extended his hand again, “Found your cell phone.”
She quickly grabbed it and put it back inside her handbag. “Thanks.”
He smiled at her again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Melissa was flattered but she knew it was better for both of them if she didn’t. If and when she was ready to date again, she wanted to have zero baggage.
“That’s too bad,” he said and then he crossed the street with his devil dog.
Melissa stared at him until he walked out of view. “Yeah, too bad.”
#
With only ten minutes to spare, Melissa staggered inside the office building. She’s a freelance writer at Hush Magazine; an online fashion magazine. Mostly she rewrites everyone else’s poorly written articles. But one day, she’d hope to get her very own article. That’s what she’s told herself repeatedly for the last four years.
“Hi Mel,” Claire the receptionist said to her, with her too white teeth and too skinny body.
She tried to sound just as pleased to see her. “Good Morning Claire. How was your weekend?”
“Oh the usual. Nothing new.” She sighed, handing Melissa a handful of messages. “Oh, there is one thing,” Claire said, perking up. “There’s a rumor going around that we’re having an important visitor today,” she sing-songs the news and Melissa wants to slap her on her head with her cupcake for being so darn chirpy at this hour. But then, she chooses not to because she’s really hungry.
“All that gossip at nine o’clock on a Monday morning?” Melissa rolled her eyes and headed straight to her desk. “Don’t people work around here?” she said. When Claire giggle as she walked away, Melissa wondered what the hell she thought was so damn funny.
