Notes On Love

by K. L. Shandwick

  After a few minutes where we all back-slapped and dry-humped each other in our excitement, we calmed down enough to walk across the road to where the after-party was being held. The excited atmosphere and chatter between us felt like static in the air. Our moods so high I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Post gig I always crashed after a couple of hours. My mood became tired and I craved the solitude of my own space. Two hours of socializing and being polite was enough for any man, and when I glanced around the room, Phoebe caught my eye again. I’d had five shots and a couple of whiskeys, and although I was still far from drunk, my body had a slight buzz of electricity passing through it. I felt good, horny good.

  Phoebe stood beside two other girls and as if she’d known I was looking, her head suddenly jerked up in my direction. Staring pointedly at me, a naughty smile played on her lips. That small stretch of her mouth was all it had taken to set my legs in motion. I smiled in return, she was a stunningly attractive girl. Who wouldn’t have? I wanted to get laid, and from the look in Phoebe’s lust drunk eyes, I knew that she wanted that too.

  Interrupting the groupie talking to her, I slid my hand around her waist. “I’m ready to get out of here, sweetheart. Are you coming?”

  “I think you’ve seen me coming enough times to answer that question for yourself,” Phoebe said, shooting me a teasing smirk while she checked out my crotch.

  Casting my eyes over her, with a smile, I checked out her long, blond, sun-kissed hair surrounding her pretty face. She was beautiful. I could have looked at her all day long. Phoebe was a hard girl to define. She carried herself, looked, and sounded like she came from money, but with a hippie dress code and a carefree aura around her. Almost as tall as me in her heels, she had the most incredibly attractive legs. Victoria’s Secret incredible at the very least. Every time I had touched them it had led to more. Most of all, Phoebe’s blunt, dirty talk when she flirted, always did it for me.

  Shaking my head, I snickered, “Ah, sorry, I should have known by the way you’re still in control of your body. Your eyes aren’t rolling in your head and you’re not screaming my name. You’re definitely not coming. Let me correct myself. I’m heading home. Would you like to come?”

  Wrapping my arm tighter around her waist, I waved to Brody and gave him an ‘I’m out of here’ nod in the direction of the door. Brody took his hand off his wife’s ass just long enough to salute me then planted it firmed back in place. On the way out of the door Caleb barged shoulders with me. He was three sheets to the wind drunk, “Night, Gray. Night, Phoebe. Do everything I would do.”

  “Jeez, I was hoping for more. I hear you only last a few minutes and missionary is your position of choice.” I goaded, and laughed at the serious expression on his face.

  “Whoever said that must have known me when I was twelve. The tiger in my pants is a lot fiercer nowadays.”

  “Tiger? Really? Isn’t that just a big pussy?” I asked, smirking while I tried not to laugh.

  Phoebe giggled and Caleb cupped Phoebe’s chin. “Nothing girlie about my dick is there, honey?”

  Phoebe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I was pissed he’d made our joke personal to her. Phoebe had slept with him once when Dana and Brody first met, but that didn’t make her less sensitive as a person. I knew she’d been with him before me and we’d spoken about it. I also knew she regretted it.

  It bothered me because I liked Pheebs, but she couldn’t undo what she’d done. Really, it was none of my business who she slept with before, but I wouldn’t tolerate her sleeping with one of my bandmates again while she was around me.

  “That’s not fucking called for, Caleb. Watch your mouth.”

  “It’s her mouth you want to be worried about. Suction like a turbo vacuum and let me tell you—”

  When Caleb continued to run off at the mouth my fist connected with his jaw. He fell to a crumpled heap on the floor and I scowled at him, “Apologize to her. Fucking apologize. I won’t have any woman treated the way you’ve just disrespected her in public.”

  Looking up from his curled-up position on the floor, he nursed his jaw and shook his head. “Bro’s before ho’s, Dude. Didn’t you get the memo about that?”

  Lifting my fist, I pulled it back and lunged at him again. Phoebe caught my arm, pulling me off center. I stumbled and leaned one hand against the wall to steady myself. Even though he was belittling her, she held her hands on my arms, preventing me from tackling him.

  “Leave it, Gray. I deserve it for being stupid enough to sleep with a guy like him. And for your information, Caleb, what Gray just said about you in bed, he almost hit the nail on the head. You’re not that well-endowed. There’s a saying that comes to mind…God gives you what you need. Well he never gave you much in the way of a dick. I guess he thought you already were one.”

  Phoebe’s words were more severe than any punch I could have thrown. I found her smart mouth as funny as fuck. Chuckling heartily, I pulled her back into my side and stared into her beautiful, big blue eyes. “Sweetheart, I like how you say what you think instead of being polite and sucking it up. You’re so damn smart.” Grinning warmly at her ballsy comeback, I leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek.

  “Caleb, pick yourself up off the floor and apologize to my friend here. I won’t have anyone I work with treat women like shit.”

  Caleb brought himself to his feet and staggered into the wall. “Sorry, Phoebe, but that was a shitty comment about my dick. I’m more than average size,” he said, still focusing on her comment about his cock.

  Phoebe nodded her head. “Apology accepted and you’re right, Caleb, it is more than average size.” Caleb smiled; his face visibly relaxed as he swayed on his feet before he turned and staggered through the door of the party room.

  Turning to me, she grinned at my scowling face because she had appeared to backtrack with him.

  “What? I’m not lying, he is more than average size…for a twelve-year-old,” she finished, and burst out laughing. “Come on, you promised to do things to me. So far all I’ve had are insults and a fist fight, I deserve more than that.”

  Chapter 2

  Promotion ~ Hettie

  2012

  “Leave it, we’re gonna be late. They’ll be arriving at the restaurant now. I don’t want to appear tardy. Hendricks is a stickler for timekeeping. This promotion is almost in the bag, I’m not letting it slip away again for the sake of a fucking cat.”

  Glitter, my sweet, little tabby cat was missing. I knew Harris, my long-term partner, was right. Our relationship was sliding because of all the hours he worked. His advancement at work was our chance to get it back on track.

  As a corporate middle manager, Harris had been frustrated at his long working week. His lack of energy when he had time off was put down to a combination of continually running the treadmill in the same department for several years, and his frustration at competing with younger, less experienced guys, who were able to rise above him on the promotion ladder.

  He was continually overlooked for higher management posts, because his selfish boss, Tony Evans, had used Harris to make himself look good in order to feed his own thirsty ambitions. So, while Harris got results, Tony’s department thrived under the perception that it was Tony’s leadership that sealed deals when in reality, my boyfriend was the workhorse behind his success.

  When I looked at Harris running his hands nervously through his ash blond hair and saw the worried look on his face, my heart squeezed tightly for him. Maybe I was biased but I felt no man should be made to feel the way he did when they worked so hard. Part of Harris’ problem was his manner. I hated to say it but he wasn’t the most tolerant of people, and it would have killed him to suck something up and let it go. At least that’s what he showed me at home. For the previous year and a half, his frustration from work had spilled over into our relationship as a couple, and my affection for him had begun to wane with his c
onstant whining.

  I was still mostly supportive of him, but there had been a few occasions where I’d begun to feel as if I was on the same running machine as him. I’d been with Harris since the year after I finished my studies at college, meeting him at a mutual friend’s engagement party. We’d been together for six years and for four of those I’d say we’d had a pretty good partnership. However, as he became more entrenched in his work he vented his dislike for his boss by targeting me with increasing verbal attacks. For most of the time during the previous year I had felt insignificant, and nothing that I did was as important as Harris and his job.

  When we left the building, a waiting cab whisked us to a restaurant situated less than ten minutes from our high-rise condo in a semi-favorable part of Miami Beach. Harris took my hand in his and I noted it was the first sign of affection he’d shown me in weeks. When I felt how clammy it was and I glanced at his face, I quickly realized his intimate gesture was more for his comfort and reassurance than anything to do with me. Even at that, his anxious expression still evoked sympathy for how Tony Evans had treated him. “It’s going to be fine, just relax and enjoy the night,” I said, trying to reassure him.

  “You know what this means, Hettie? No promotion, no marriage. No marriage, no family. I’m not committing to a life of making do, or you working if we have children.”

  Sadly for me, he’d repeated the same thing many times during previous two years whenever I broached the subject about having kids. I’d argued my case without any movement on Harris’ side. My longing to be a mother had increased daily since I’d turned thirty. By thirty-one I felt the clock was ticking and I knew I didn’t want to be an older mother. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I just wanted to do things with my kids while I had the energy.

  Personally, I thought Harris and I were doing just fine and could afford to have kids if we were ready. Sure, we had bills but nothing that swamped us. Having secured a gorgeous place at a reasonable price in a beautiful building overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, we’d managed to place a forty percent deposit on it, and moved into our co-owned home by the age of twenty-seven. In my view that was a major achievement at a time when many young people were struggling to get onto the home ownership ladder.

  It confused me how Harris could feel so miserable when I felt impressed with what we’d done, but he was a man, and as my mother kept telling me, men thought differently to women. I was glad I was female, especially if being male made you so frustrated with life.

  My mind wandered back to my college days and a boy I’d met near the end of my time there. Gray Dennison had been so different to Harris. I would never have even reached the position of sharing a home with him. All he wanted was to make music with his band. At the time, my feelings for him were so strong, yet I’d hidden them for fear that he’d pull the plug on the little I had with him. I’d known the time was already ticking on the special bond we shared when I started to hang out with him.

  My mind flitted back to Harris when I realized we’d pulled up at the curb. I saw Fiona, one of Harris’ office colleagues, standing to the side of the black and white overhead canopy that read ‘Luigi’. One of the poshest restaurants just outside of town, Luigi’s was booked months ahead. It had been great; a real treat the first time we’d dined there. However, this was our sixth annual dinner held by the company Harris worked for since he’d joined.

  Fiona lowered the tone by the way she was casually leaning against the wall in her expensive black cocktail dress, and I thought that her immaculately shiny hair must stink because she was smoking a cigarette. Harris glanced quickly to me, flashed a quick, tight smile then slapped on his game face. Stepping out of the cab, he slipped into his charming workplace, team player personality to greet her.

  “Hello, gorgeous, are we the last?”

  Pushing herself away from the wall by her shoulder, she stood straighter before throwing her lit cigarette onto the ground. She stamped on it with her black, patent shoe and fell into step with us as we walked toward the entrance. Reeking of smoke, I became fixated by how her lipstick had been partly worn off from her fix of nicotine.

  Fiona acknowledged my presence by nodding to me and replying to Harris’ question. “The main man isn’t here yet, so don’t fret. You haven’t missed a thing.”

  Immediately, Harris exhaled heavily in relief and a more relaxed expression replaced the anxious one I’d witnessed earlier. Turning to look at me like I was an afterthought, he grabbed my hand and lifted it toward Fiona. “You remember Hettie?”

  “I do. Still teaching all those horny teenage boys to become rocket scientists?”

  With a grin, I nodded. “Sure am, and loving it.”

  “I bet you’re fighting them off. Are they actually learning anything with a hot teacher like you giving out detentions?”

  Her comment transported my mind right back to the text that Gray had sent me when he’d left for the last time, and my heart ached because the memory knotted my stomach; it still felt like unfinished business. Gray Dennison had left me a similar message on his last ever communication to me. For months, I had constantly checked my phone, emails, and social media to the point of obsession, wondering if he missed me even a tiny bit. With every glance at my phone I’d been disappointed. A sudden pang of sadness jolted my heart. In that very moment, with Harris holding my hand, I missed Gray all over again for the first time in years.

  “I think they have better, younger females to pursue than me, Fiona. My results are some of the best in the school,” I replied, as I giggled to hide my sadness at the memory. We had finally approached the maître d’ and were escorted to our seats.

  Settling down in front of our place names, a round of introductions ensued, but I already knew most people as I’d been around them since Harris and I had got together.

  A shift in mood suddenly blew through the room and without turning around I knew the company’s new boss had arrived. Tony Evans had moved on to being promoted for his success that was mostly due to Harris’ hard work.

  Carlton Hendricks had a reputation as a fair man. I’d never met him, but from what Harris had heard through the grapevine, he’d gained his position through hard work and long hours just like Harris did. I felt a little embarrassed to watch the instant change in demeanor of all the men present in the room. I even felt the sense that it was more than just mine and Harris’ future riding on the decision he made.

  Suddenly everyone was jumping out of their chairs to greet him, and as Harris was about to spring to his feet I slowly placed my hand on his thigh and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t move. They are all acting like they are desperate. You’re not desperate, you are deserving.” Glancing at me then back at his boss, I could see he was torn about what to do. A split-second decision saw him relax and maintain his composure in his chair. I felt pleased he had taken my advice.

  Seconds later, Carlton turned his head in our direction as his eyes sought out Harris. “Harris Fleming, good to see you. We met during the fall conference. Last year, wasn’t it?”

  Harris rose slowly to his feet and reached out to take the outstretched hand Carlton offered. “Indeed, driest conference I ever attended,” he joked. This had Carlton throwing his head back in laughter.

  “You can say that again. Glad you could make it out tonight. And who is this vision of beauty sitting next to you?”

  “This is my girlfriend, Hettie,” he offered.

  “Girlfriend? What are you waiting for? She’s gorgeous, Harris.”

  All eyes turned to me and I felt uncomfortable for the attention he drew with his remark. I shuffled my butt in my seat, glancing at Harris for support. Unfortunately, his face was horribly frozen in a stunned reaction, like he had no idea what to say.

  Blushing with embarrassment, the answer to the question dawned on me. If he wanted me would having money really matter? This is Harris, he just wants to do things right. A few moments later when he still hadn’
t responded, I smiled and mumbled, “I’m not ready for that kind of commitment yet.” I don’t know why I dug him out of the hole he was in, but I couldn’t let them see how disappointed I was that he didn’t defend what we were.

  Carlton grinned widely, nodded his head and wagged a finger at me. “Well, I’m glad you spoke up about that. For a moment, I thought my judgment was off in making Harris our new section chief.” Immediately, Harris was breathing deeply, a beaming smile on his face as he made his way around the chairs at the table to stand in front of Hendricks who engulfed him in a bear hug. Slapping his back, Carlton, smiled. “You’ve earned it, Harris. Next weekend is a golfing weekend. We’ll iron out any kinks in the package of benefits then. You play golf, right?”

  Eager to please, Harris nodded vigorously and shook his hand. His colleagues clapped in response to the announcement then we all sat down and ate dinner. Personally, I found it off-putting. He’d worked for it but his behavior from my perspective was nothing short of groveling.

  During the meal, a few people interacted with polite conversation toward me but my evening had already been ruined by Harris’ lack of effort to respond to Carlton about us. Even after he sat down to eat, he had made no apology or reference to that moment, nor did he make any effort to appease me about what had happened. The longer I waited for that, the lower my mood sank and by the time we stepped into the cab for the ride home I had been afraid to speak to him because of what I might say.

  Opening the door to the condo building, Harris waved me through. I took his cue and walked in ahead of him. “You’re quiet, are you tired?”

  Without moving my head, my eyes shifted to glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “Depends what you mean. Am I tired from our evening out…perhaps. It was hard work being nice to people when you’ve been humiliated in front of them. Or do you mean tired of your bullshit money worries and committing to me? If it’s the latter then too fucking right, I’m tired.” My temper was at breaking point as Harris had shown himself to be a self-centered bastard by allowing me to cover for empty promises. “What makes it worse is that everything just washed over you. You didn’t even have the grace to thank me for smoothing that god-awful moment over with your boss.”