by T L Swan
“That’s a promise.”
“Have a go, prick.” Joshua snarls as he steps forward and pushes him hard in the chest.
He launches himself at me, instead, and I hit him once in the face before I am grabbed by the bouncers and ushered to the door with my arms held behind my back. “Take him downstairs to the police,” the bouncer yells to his co-worker.
“What?” Shit, this could affect my criminal record. “I haven’t done anything wrong and I didn’t even receive a payout.”
“He said you were cheating.”
“He’s as drunk as a fucking mute. Why would you believe anything that came out of that fool’s mouth?” I argue as I am rushed toward the doors, out into the elevator area.
The bouncers exchange looks as they realize they have nothing on me. They push me forward and I go flying. “Go back to your room immediately. You are not to come back on the gambling floor tonight.”
I retract my arms from their grip. “I hate your fucking grubby casino anyway.” I dust my shirt off.
I glance around at Joshua’s two security guards who have followed me out to the foyer, and I wave them back in. “I’m going back to the room. I’m tired. Tell the others I will catch them tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay.” They both turn and return to where they came from.
I take the elevator to my floor and smile to myself as I walk along the corridor. That was kind of fun to be honest. Pity I didn’t get away with it.
Next time.
God, I’m so fucking tired. That chick wore me out last night. I smile at the memory. I’m going to ring her now and tell her just how much.
I go to grab my phone and realize it’s not in my pocket.
What?
I feel all the pockets in my pants. Shit, where is my damn phone?
I think for a moment and my mouth drops open in horror.
Fuck’s sake. It was on the table when that idiot tipped it over. It could be anywhere now. I turn and jog back up to the high rollers room and am greeted by the same two security guards again. They step in front of the door, blocking my entrance.
“Hi, I just left my phone inside. I won’t be a moment.”
The biggest bouncer shakes his head. “You’re not coming in.”
“Yeah, I know I’m not coming in. I just want to get my phone.”
“No.”
I screw up my face. “Oh, fuck off. I’m getting my phone.” I go to brush past them and they block my entrance once more.
“Get someone else to get it for you.”
“If I had my phone, I would fucking ring them and tell them to get it. I don’t have my phone!” I snap.
“Too bad.”
“This is ridiculous. I want my phone.” Fuck, her number is on there. If I lose it, I have no way of contacting her. I start to get agitated. “I’m going back in,” I announce.
“Like fuck you are.”
I go to push through them and we get into a scuffle as they push me back from the door.
“Go back to your room or we are calling the cops to come and arrest you.”
Shit.
“Listen, man, I have a really hot chick’s number on that phone and it is vital that I find it. Can you go in and get my friends and get them to find it for me?”
The idiot folds his arms in front of him. “Do I look like your slave?”
Something snaps inside of me. “You look like a fucking baboon on steroids.”
He pushes me hard in the chest and I push him back. “I need that fucking phone.”
“I need to smash your face in. Get out of here or I will.”
“Try it.” I sneer.
The other bouncer picks up the phone and calls someone. “Can you get the police up here immediately?”
Fuck.
I step back as I weigh up my options. If I stay here I’m going to be arrested, and as a doctor, I can’t have a criminal record.
I blow out a defeated breath. “Fuck you.” I sneer as I turn and leave. Hopefully Joshua, Murph, or someone from the security team find it. It’s probably under a bloody table somewhere.
I continue to stride up the hall as I think. I’m sure one of them will have it, although I can’t call any of them to look for it. I don’t have one person’s phone number on me and I don’t know any off by heart. All of my phone numbers are on that fucking phone. I head back to the room and, after being severely pissed off with myself, I quickly fall into an exhausted sleep.
“Cabin crew prepare for take-off.”
I put my head back onto my headrest in annoyance as the plane rolls down the runway.
The phone is gone. Nobody saw it and when they went back to look for it this morning, it had vanished.
I’m so fucking pissed.
“It might turn up.” Murph shrugs as he sips his drink from his seat opposite me.
I look at him deadpan.
Joshua smirks from his seat next to Murph. “It’s gone. It isn’t coming back.”
“You’re not helping.” Murph sighs.
I roll my eyes. Adrian Murphy—Murph, as we call him—is our best friend. He is the General Manager of Joshua’s company, good looking, young, and as gay as all hell. He is forever the optimist and finds a silver lining in every event.
“It’s backed to the cloud, though, right?” Joshua asks. “It’s not that bad.”
“There is only one number on that whole fucking phone that I want. It is not in the cloud.”
“That chick from the other night…” he replies flatly.
I stare out the window as the tarmac starts to scream past.
“She might call you,” Murph offers.
I shake my head. “She didn’t ask for my fucking number,” I snap, annoyed.
Their eyes meet and they both smile broadly. “She was probably trying to get out of there as quick as she could.” Joshua smirks.
I shake my head. “She could have been Mrs. Stanton, I’m telling you. This chick was out of this world.”
“What was her name?” Murph asks.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t even know.”
They both burst out laughing. “You… You didn’t even ask her name?” Murph stammers in shock.
“I was calling her wife and Bloss.”
“No wonder the poor bitch ran.” Joshua smirks. The two of them clink their drinks. “Who calls a chick their wife on the first night they meet them?” Joshua shakes his head in disgust. “Creepy son of a bitch.”
“This isn’t funny, assholes. I’m supposed to be going to New York to meet her next weekend and I don’t have her fucking number.”
Joshua raises his eyebrows in shock. “You were going to fly all the way to New York next weekend, just to see her?”
I nod and blow out a deep breath as I stare out the window. Fuck, I’m so pissed off with myself.
“I would have flown to the moon. She was dropping in and out of languages and had a body to die for. I’m telling you. This chick was the shit.” I slam my head back on the headrest. “You fucking idiot,” I snap at myself.
“So, let me get this straight. It’s taken you twenty-seven years to find a woman you like better than yourself, and then the next day you lose her number?” Murph asks flatly. “This is why you are the stupidest man I know. You make goldfish look smart.”
Joshua laughs into his drink. “Snap.”
I glare at him. “I’m going to fucking kill you with a smile on my face. Prepare yourself for pain, fucker.”
We all fall silent for a moment as the plane launches into the air. “What was the last thing you said to her?” Murph asks.
I narrow my eyes as I think for a moment. “I said I was coming to New York and booking a hotel for us, and don’t bother packing any clothes because you won’t be needing any.”
“Witty,” Murph mutters dryly. “I’m glad you lost your phone because if she is as smart as you say she is, she would have dumped you in a week anyway with pickup lines like that.”
I roll my eyes.
“Just concentrate on sucking dicks, asshole.”
Murph throws me a cheeky wink. “Well, it’s a lot better than hearing about goldfish pickup lines.”
“So, you heading off to Kamala tomorrow?” I ask Joshua to change the subject.
“Yeah, we leave in the morning. Only going for three weeks, though. What are you guys up to?”
“Working,” Murph replies. “Somebody’s got to hold the company together.”
“I’m going to New York next weekend,” I announce as I come to an impulsive decision.
“What are you going to do?” Joshua smirks. “Search the whole of New York for some mystery chick you don’t even know the name of?”
“Maybe.” I stare out the window.
“You fucked it. Just admit it. She’s gone.”
New York City
Saturday night
I sit at the busy bar in New York named Luco. I’ve chosen a seat that faces out onto the street and I stare out at the crowd bustling past. This is the craziest thing I have ever done in my life. After thinking on it all week, I got on a plane this morning to come to New York to look for a girl whose name I don’t even know.
I had to. She hasn’t left my mind since I left her at her hotel room last Sunday morning.
I didn’t even tell anyone I was coming. I know how fucked up this must seem, but to me it feels like the only logical thing I could do. I have no idea how to find her.
I take out my new phone and click through to my cloud and stare at the photo I have of the gorgeous creature. I’ve stared at it every spare moment I’ve had for six days. This is the only evidence that she even exists.
Who are you?
It’s weird. I’m a player. In fact, I’m a player’s player. I don’t think twice about the women I sleep with most of the time, and I definitely never would have done anything this desperate before.
Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.
An annoying little voice whispers to my subconscious… Maybe she’s different?
I watch the oncoming crowd in the street and I frown. I don’t even know if I would recognize her on sight to be honest. I walk over and take a seat at the bar.
“What will it be?” The bartender smiles.
“Blue label Scotch on the rocks, please.” I glance around as I scan the crowd.
She makes my drink, turns back and slides it over the bar. “You here alone tonight?”
I shrug, and for some reason I feel like I need to elaborate. “Believe it or not, I flew in from LA today and am looking for a girl I met in Vegas last weekend. I have no idea of her name.”
Her eyes hold mine. “That’s crazy romantic.”
I shake my head. “I don’t do romantic. It’s crazy stupid.”
She serves the man next to me, while I sit and drink my drink. After a few moments she comes back to me. “Why don’t you put an ad in the classifieds.”
I frown into my drink. “What?”
“Put an ad in the classifieds that only she would understand.”
I laugh and run my hand through my hair. “Now that’s fucking crazy.”
She picks up a cloth and wipes the bar in front of us. “No, that’s crazy romantic.”
She moves on to the next customer and I sit and think for a moment, and eventually I pick up my drink and return to my table near the window, deep in thought.
Hmm… what would I write in the ad?
A waitress walks by. “Excuse me, do you have a pen I could borrow, please?” I ask.
She feels insides her pockets and hands over a black pen, as well as a napkin.
“Thanks.”
I frown as I think. What the hell am I going to write?
To the betting man’s wife who works in an ice cream shop.
We met in Vegas last weekend when you needed a stand in husband.
I lost my phone.
Je n'ai aucun moyen de vous contacter.
Translation: I have no way of finding you.
Wer auch immer eine Wette gewinnt mag niemals dasselbe sein.
Translation: Whoever wins a bet to you may never be the same.
I’m in New York looking for you.
Appelle-moin
Translation: Call me
0423788900
I sit and stare at the scratched note on the napkin.
I have officially lost my shit.
Ashley
I smile at the waiter as he puts our Margaritas on the table. It’s Saturday night and I’m out with my best friend Jenna for dinner.
“Thank you,” we both say as we pick up our much needed cocktails. “And then what happened?” I frown.
“So, this little shit has put it on her and she rejected him.”
“But she was on with him, right?”
Jenna shrugs. “She kissed him.”
“And this was at the party?”
She nods as she sips her drink. “Yep and they were drinking.”
We are deep in discussion about the little dipshit that is picking on her baby sister who is only fifteen.
“What happened then?”
“She was on with him and then they went for a walk.”
I shake my head. “Stupid move.”
“I know, right? She reckons she didn’t think anything of it.”
I roll my eyes and Jenna nods.
“Then they go for the walk and he puts it on her in a park, and she says no. He gets all aggressive and shit.”
I frown. “Seriously? How old is this kid?”
“He’s only sixteen. They have a fight and he goes back to the party and tells everyone that she didn’t want to have sex with him because she has an STD.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re joking?”
“I fucking wish I was.”
My hands go over my mouth in shock. “Bloody hell, what a twat.” I sip my drink as I try to process this. “Surely nobody believes him, right?”
She shrugs. “You remember what it is like to be fifteen. Any gossip is hurtful. Even if it isn’t true.”
“Fuck’s sake. What is she going to do?”
“I tell you what I’m going to do: I’m going to march into the school and rearrange the fucker’s face.”
I laugh into my drink. “That will work.”
“I’m not even joking. What kind of kid does that to a young girl?”
I shake my head. “If I knew what goes through every man’s brain, I would be a millionaire by now.” I sigh. All week I have waited by my phone for Vegas guy to call, but, of course, he hasn’t. As each day ticked on by so did a little piece of hope that I would be seeing him again.
I really thought we had something.
Jen watches me for a moment. “I can’t believe he didn’t call you.”
“I can,” I mutter sadly. “I knew he was too good to be true.” I fake a smile. “You know the old saying—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” I shrug. “And besides, he lives in Texas.”
“Do you think he really lived in Texas, or was that another lie?”
I raise my eyebrows at the depressing thought. “God, probably another lie. He’s not a fucking mechanic. I know that for certain. Who knows what else he lied about?”
“You never know… fate may step in and you might see him again.”
I smile broadly and roll my eyes. “Will you stop with the fate shit? If we were fated to be together he would have called me, and right at this moment, I would have been staring at him across the table instead of having this conversation with you.”
Jen shrugs as she grabs my hand over the table. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Was he really that nice? Surely there was something wrong with him.”
I shake my head in disgust. “Jen, I don’t even know where to start. He was hotter than hot. Funny. Beyond beautiful and way smarter than me.”
She smiles into her drink. “I seriously doubt that, and besides, he must be a fucking idiot not to call you.”
We clink our glasses together and I smile with gratitude.
I love Jen. She always pulls me out of my funks.
The waitress arrives with our entrée and I snap myself out of my depressive state. “Anyway, I’m making myself forget Vegas guy from here on in. He may have ruined me forever, but I intend to pick myself up and dust myself off,” I tell her as I raise my glass in the air. “I shall never give a thought to him again.”
“Here, here.” She smiles. “Are we going to meet the others at Luco?”
I take a mouthful of my grilled halloumi cheese salad and shake my head. “Hmm, this is good.” I gesture to my food. “You know I don’t really feel like going to Luco tonight.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s a dating kind of place and it’s not like I am going to see Vegas guy sitting there waiting for me.”
Jen giggles around her mouthful of food. “You wish.”
I laugh and sip my drink. “Tonight, we are going dancing. Screw bar Luco.”
3
Five years later
Ashley
The moving trucks come to a stop in the wide street, and my eyes flicker over to the back seat. “This is it, baby.” I smile.
Owen looks out of the window towards our new house and I feel my nerves flutter deep in my stomach.
It looks okay.
The house is two-story with faded yellow weather-boards. It has a large veranda that wraps around the house. Climbing roses scale the posts, and a cobblestone path leads up to the front steps. It looks welcoming. I glance back and forth up the wide street and the neat manicured lawns of the well-kept surrounding houses.
“It looks so nice, doesn’t it?” I smile at him through the rear view mirror.
He nods as he holds his blanket tightly between his little fingers. His angel face is staring out the window in awe.
This will be the new start we need.
The last few years have been hard—harder than hard for me. My big dreams are just a distant memory now.
I met a guy, got engaged, and was happy for a while, until our relationship broke down. All while putting myself through med school.
I had big dreams of being a hotshot surgeon until I fell pregnant. It wasn’t planned and I don’t know how it happened, but it did and I didn’t find out until I was showing. I’d had the contraceptive injection and it should have worked for another twelve months. I never even considered that I would be in the two percent of the female population who it didn’t work on. I didn’t get a period, so I didn’t miss it when it didn’t come.
