by Claire Adams
I spent every second I could talking to Haylie and teasing her. When it was time to say goodbye, I felt like I was leaving something behind. I wanted children, and I wanted a woman in my life, but I had to be pragmatic. I wasn’t that kind of guy. It hurt that Andrew felt like he had to rub it in. He knew that he was getting to me, but that’s the way he worked. When he wanted something, he pushed people until they cracked.
The scrutiny was unacceptable. I didn’t say a word about what my family did in the bedroom. I didn’t even want to think about it, and I definitely wasn’t about to go around gossiping about my love life. It was time to shut them up.
I called Tony on my way home. “What up?” he sounded drowsy, but I knew it was because he’d been smoking.
“Hey.”
“Back for more? I’ll bet you hit that shit good, huh?”
I didn’t want to confirm or deny anything about my sex life to him. I never did. So I kept quiet.
“I got this tight ass brunette. Just came in yesterday. Perfect Ds, and she’s got her tongue pierced too.”
“Nice. I was hoping you could send out Maria tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you know you liked it.” I couldn’t think of a single redeeming factor he had.
“You think you could send her by early, like 10 o’clock?” I asked.
“Yeah, man. That’s cool. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Have I ever said yes to that question?”
“A’ight, man. I got you. Ten o’clock.”
“Thanks.” I hung up.
Chapter 10
Mercedes
When Tony called me, I wanted to throw my phone out the window. It was my day off, so I set his ringtone on silent, but he was persistent. I got six messages and four calls, all of which I ignored. I knew I had to get back to him, but I didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice, and I knew he was going to make a pass at me.
Finally, I sat down on the couch and took out my phone to call him. “Hey, baby. I’ve been trying to call you. What happened?”
“Sorry, I was in the shower.” I shouldn’t have said that. I just admitted to being naked.
“Nice,” he drew the word out. “You ready for another session? Heard you got it good the last time.”
“Yeah?” If he said a word to that freak, I was going to kill him.
“Yup. He wants you there tomorrow early.”
“Great, I’ll be there.” I hung up and started to turn my phone off.
“Nope,” I said to myself. “She is not getting away with this.”
I called Loren. She hit the ignore button on the third ring. I called again, and she ignored me again. It took six calls to get through to her.
“What do you want?” she answered.
“I’m going to kill you. Expect me.” I hung up and held my phone out. She called back almost immediately. I let it go for a second just to tease her a little before I ignored the call. On the second call, I ignored it right away to make it look like I’d blocked her number, and I ignored each subsequent call after that until she started texting. I didn’t read any of her messages. I just waited until they kept coming, one after the other, faster and faster, like popcorn in a microwave. Then, I called her back.
“I’m sorry I—”
“No,” I said, interrupting her. “You don’t get to say a damn thing. You led me to believe that it was package delivery service and nothing more. What is wrong with you? How long have you been a hooker?”
“I am not a hooker,” she said.
“You tried to get me to sell myself, you sick fuck. What were you thinking? You didn’t even warn me. You just sent me straight down to the ghetto so that little prick could eye rape me. Do you have any idea how disgusted I am? He tries to get me to fuck him every time I see him. Ooh, I am so pissed. So fucking pissed! You’re lucky I don’t come down there and beat your ass!”
“You don’t have t—”
“Not one more word. Bring your closet to my house immediately. I have to go sell myself tomorrow.”
When Loren pulled up, I pulled back the blinds to look out the front window. She was carrying a takeout bag from Curry Palace and a bottle of my favorite wine. I let her knock and watched her shadow as she paced around. “I’m sorry, Mercedes. Please, I brought a bunch of outfits, and they’re not slutty. They look good, and I brought you curry. It’s your favorite.”
I wanted to let her beg a while longer, but I was starving so I put the chain on the door and grabbed my can of pepper spray so I could stick it out the door when I cracked it. She shrieked and jumped back. “I’m sorry, Mercedes. I really am. You have to know that I didn’t mean to put you in danger.”
I slammed the door, slid the chain off, and opened it. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t spray you right now.”
She met my eyes and said, “Because I don’t want Uncle Sam to die any more than you do, so I did what I did to make sure you could make enough money to take care of him.”
“You still lied.” I left the door open and walked inside.
“You don’t have to do it, Mercedes. I don’t.”
“Well, it’s too late for that. I already did it.”
“Are you going to keep it up?”
“No,” I said. “I can’t believe this. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Loren walked in and closed the door. “You wouldn’t have gone, and you need this job.”
“I’m done talking about it.” I ran up to where she was standing next to the door and grabbed the bag of curry. “I’m eating all the egg rolls.” I stomped into the kitchen to pull out plates and silverware. “And you better not have touched any of the wontons.”
“You’re really mad.” I looked up to see Loren standing in the door between the kitchen and the living room.
“You had your reasons,” I conceded. “It just caught me off guard is all.”
“One of the guys tried to touch you?”
“No.” I didn’t want to tell her anything about Jake.
“Look, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll talk to Tony and make sure he doesn’t give you any of the trouble clients.”
“Thank you.” I pulled the Styrofoam takeout containers out of the bag and started making myself a plate. I spent the rest of the night softening up slowly, making sure she knew exactly how I felt. I’d calmed down by the time we started eating, but I kept it up. She wasn’t going to get away with something like that.
The next morning, I woke up early and spent my time shuffling through my clothes. Loren brought a nice selection, mostly jeans and T-shirts, but there were dressy outfits, leggings, tunics, blouses, and several evening gowns. Loren was petite, and I was not. A lot of what she brought was tight on me. Most of the shirts could barely contain my boobs, and the pants hugged my ass in a death grip. Some the clothes fit all right, but they were more formfitting than I preferred. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing if I wanted to look good for Jake.
I stuffed them in the bag and started pulling hangers aside, one after the other, but I couldn’t find anything I liked. I decided to go with the safe option: a pair of tight jeans and my daisy shirt. If he didn’t like it, I could always change.
When I got out of the shower, I checked the clock. I didn’t have to be at the house for another two hours, so I looked around for things to do. The takeout boxes were still in the trash, so I took it out and washed out my cereal bowl from earlier that morning.
The living room didn’t need cleaning. It served no purpose other than to connect the kitchen to the front door, and cleaning it took all of two seconds. With nothing left to tidy up, I sat down with my laptop. It’d only been 15 minutes, and I had to distract myself somehow.
Two minutes later, I was back in my closet second guessing every little thing. I had no idea what Jake had planned for this next meeting. It was obvious that this was more than just a quick lay; at least I thought so. He wanted me there at 10 in the morning on a Saturday. I had to be prepared for every eventuality. I
wondered if I should bring a bathing suit. He definitely had a pool, but all I had was a black one-piece, and it had a skirt around the midsection.
I decided to bring it along anyway and stuffed everything else I could in the bag. It only took me five minutes to go through my clothes, and I still hadn’t found a sufficient distraction. I fell back onto the bed. I had to accept it eventually.
I wanted Jake. I wanted him so bad it hurt, and nothing I did was going to change that. I knew what was going to happen. I’d come every time he called, let him rail me sideways. Then, when he was done, I’d just end up wanting more, so I’d push for it. But I wouldn’t beg him or try to talk him into being with me.
I had my way. I’d try to impress him and listen to him and make sure that I always wore the nicest outfits. Then I’d look for little signs to see whether my efforts were working, even though it’d be obvious that he didn’t want me. By the time he got tired of me and decided to move into his next conquest, I’d end up getting my heart broken.
I knew better than to get my hopes up, but I wouldn’t be able to help it. This kind of thing had a way of getting into people’s heads and playing tricks on them. Any sign of interest on his part would be another thing to cling to, another reason to have hope.
In the end, this was the right thing to do, not for me, or my student loans. My father needed me. Every time I woke up, he was the first thing that came to mind and the last thing I thought of when I went to bed. I used to stay up at night haunted by images of the way he used to be.
He was, and would always be, the most powerful man I’d ever met. He carried the weight of our household, working two, sometimes three jobs at a time just so we could eat and pay our bills. He didn’t do that because he wanted to. He did it out of devotion. I owed it to him to do the same, even if it meant demeaning myself. His life mattered more.
I still couldn’t find anything to distract myself. I decided to go to a coffee shop and order something to drink on the way to Jake’s house. That took up nearly a half an hour, which meant that after the drive to Jake’s, I’d only be a half hour early. It was ridiculous, but when he answered the door, he didn’t seem to notice.
He had a toothy grin and look of pure desire on his face. “I can’t wait to rip those clothes off you.”
“Yeah?” I bit my bottom lip and ignored the fluttering feeling my stomach.
“Yeah.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me in, then slammed the door behind me and pushed me into it. His body was pressed against mine, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You’re so fucking hot.” He reached in, his face so close that I could practically taste his peppermint breath. He was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes and readied myself for it. My heart pounded. I’d been waiting to taste his lips all week.
A sharp jolt, and he kissed me behind the ear. He pulled the skin up and dug his teeth in. When he pulled back, I opened my eyes. He was already walking through the living room entrance to my left. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought we’d change things up a bit today. My brother is having a barbecue, and I wanted to bring you along.”
I followed him into the living room and stood at the entrance rather awkwardly with my hands folded. “That’s fine.” I couldn’t look at him, but I could see him staring at me. “Is what I’m wearing okay?” I asked when I could bear the silence any longer.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He walked over to where I stood and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eye. I should’ve jerked away and ran out the door, but I didn’t. Instead, I stared up at him.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay with this? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
How nice, I thought to myself. A man sleazy enough to get me off and nice enough to make me want him. He was the perfect trap, and I was already caught up in him. “I’m fine.” I pulled away. “Are you sure I shouldn’t change? It’s not a formal thing, is it? I have other options.”
“It’s fine.”
“Good, so talk to me. Have you told them anything about me?”
“No, they don’t even know you’re coming. So you can say whatever you want to. We’ll just work on the basics.”
“Okay. How long have we been together?”
“Five months. Long enough that it could be serious, but it’s still a little casual.” He led me back to the couch, and we sat down together.
“Where do you work?” I ask.
“I’m the owner of Corbin Enterprises.”
“What does that mean? You’re the boss, right?”
“Yes. We own and manage a bunch of restaurants and bars. If they ask you about it, tell them that I work a lot and change the subject. It’s too complicated.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Ryan, but that won’t matter.”
“Your middle name?”
“Yeah, I should probably go over all of this. My middle name is Alexander. My brother’s name is Andrew, but you can call him asshat, because his beard looks like pubic hair.” I laughed, and he went on. “His wife’s name is Elizabeth, but I always pretend to forget. I call her the first wife.”
“You’re terrible.”
“They hate me, but they pretend not to.” He pulled out his phone. “This is why I’m going.” He turned it around to show me a picture of a toddler wearing a tiara and a pink leotard with a tutu. She had chocolate smeared all over her face.
“Aww.” I couldn’t stand it. I had to see her. “What’s her name?”
“Haylie. I told them they should go with a classic like Phyllis or Opal, but nobody listens to me.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I said.
“You’re going to love her.” He checked the time on his phone. “We should get going. I wanted to be as early as possible just to make sure I was an imposition.”
“Really?”
“Come on.” He got up. “I’ll tell you about it in the car.”
When I walked outside, there was a vintage red Camaro sitting in front of the house with the top down. “Damn.” I shook my head.
“What?”
“How many cars do you have?”
“I don’t keep track.” He jumped in and leaned over to open my door for me.
“Thank you.” I got in, and he put the car in gear. I wasn’t expecting him to fly so fast down the driveway. It jerked me back. The force of the wind pulled my hair back and sent it streaming behind me.
“Is this your first time in a convertible?” he asked when he pulled past the security gate.
“Yeah, it is.” I had to yell over the wind.
He glanced my way, then slammed on the gas when we turned onto the neighborhood street. The rush caught me off guard and sent my head flying into his lap. “You can stay there if you want to.”
“I’m all right. So, what is this crap about your brother? Is it something I should know?”
“It’s like I told you. The whole family is using their phone tree against me. The old ladies get together and fret over why I haven’t found somebody, and the guys all look at me like I’m a pervert, as if half of them weren’t already cheating on their wives. It’s bad. My brother took me out to dinner a couple days ago and drilled into me about how people are starting to talk, and how I need to find somebody to make my life complete. Normally, I wouldn’t care what he had to say, but he’s really rubbing it in. So I decided to bring you.”
“Why do they care so much?”
“I don’t know.” He turned back to the road. “I don’t even really care. I just want to show off. Is that bad?”
“No, if they’re jerks to you, let’s throw it in their faces.”
“See, I knew you’d get it.”
We wound through the foothills, into the city, then south towards the suburbs. Andrew lived in a nice, upper middle-class neighborhood. The houses were large, but not too large, with tailored lawns and cobblestone façades. Everything was stylized. The sidewalk was red brick, and the street lamps had been designed to look like old gas-burnin
g lanterns.
When we pulled up, several cars were already parked in front of the house and across the street. Jake parked next to the driveway. “He lied about the time.” Jake sounded disappointed.
“Why would he hold a barbecue so early?” I asked when he walked around to open my door.
“You’ll see.”
Jake walked me up to the front door and rang the bell. Everything was sterile and uniform. The houses all had the same front doors, and every house had six pink tulips in front of the main window. Every little detail, save for tiny changes in floor plan and structure, were exactly the same.
“They’re good-looking cookie-cutter houses, aren’t they?”
“Twice the price of a normal one, too.” The door cracked open, and Jake put on his best smile. The woman that answered it was short, with a poof of blonde curly hair, wearing a denim dress over a white blouse. She rolled her eyes and walked inside without saying anything.
“That’s Andrew’s first wife,” Jake said loudly enough for her to hear. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper. “She thinks I’m the antichrist.”
I struggled not to laugh. The front room was designed to be a showroom parlor with straight-backed antique furniture and a decorative tea set sitting on the faux marble table. It made no sense to me why anyone would set up a room that they couldn’t sit in. It was pretentious beyond imagining, and it was a sure sign of neurotic housekeeping.
We followed the woman down the hall into the kitchen, where she had an entire island filled up with every type of meat imaginable. “The food will be ready soon,” she said and went back to chopping a mountain of onions.
“Come on.” Jake led me through the living room, past the football game, into the backyard where a skinny, bearded man was setting up the grill. “That’s asshat,” he said. “He’ll spend most of the day drinking and pretending to get the grill started until wifey has had enough and ends up throwing the whole thing in the oven. We usually don’t eat till late at night, depending on how much alcohol he manages to sneak past wifey.”
“She looks mean.”
“She’s not that bad. I just like giving her a hard time.”
