He’s bribing her. YES! I love it. Let’s get Brittany on the payroll. I step forward. Nod my head, like I agree with everything I can’t hear him saying. She is looking at me like she just won the lottery. All of a sudden I remember that I wasn’t so nice to her earlier. Does this bitch own me now? C’mon, Jess. Be nice. She’s not a bitch. She’s just a young girl who wants to be in the fashion world. I’m sure she’s got my back and it’s all going to be hunky dory.
“Well,” she says. “Okay. Deal. Thank you. That’s so great. The show’s about to start, you guys.” She smiles sweetly and leaves us. Hmmm.
James turns and looks at me, stunned and crazy-eyed. “Looks like we’ve got a new employee on the payroll.”
“What if you can’t get her hired?”
“I will give her such a glowing recommendation that Robert will have to hire her. He was asking me to keep an eye out for the best candidates, anyway. All of a sudden, she’s looking very promising,” he says, picking a piece of fuzzy lint off my back while inspecting it. “You’re all good. Do you want to wait for me to get some Kleenex?”
“No. Thanks. I’m okay. You’ve done enough. I feel a million times better, save for getting caught. Thank you.”
He scoffs and says, “Thank you, Jess. Let’s go to work. I can’t believe it’s only 10 a.m.”
He goes to take my hand, and I almost take it but then I pull it back with a headshake, no. I see the realization and understanding hit him, too. If The Bitch saw us holding hands, life as we know it would be over for both of us. It feels very weird to not hold his hand though, after this moment we just had. It wasn’t just a fuck… I feel like he’s my friend now. Or, maybe more?
As we walk out, we pass again the models, the tailors, and a whole slew of other important, distracted people. He waves at someone, looking casual. I smile at our photographer and tell him he’s doing a great job. My mind is preoccupied, though. Something just happened with that handholding impulse. I look at James’ back wondering… are we dating now? Do I want to date James? Considering all the sex we’ve been having, this is an odd question, but an office fling and dating are two very different things. Do I want James as a boyfriend? I still feel that friend feeling with him, but is that just because I’ve been hurt? Maybe, because at the word ‘boyfriend,’ my heart screams, Are you a masochist?!!
I can’t think about this right now. Right now, I have to make sure goody bags are everywhere. It’s show time.
Minutes Later
“Where have you been? What the fuck, Jessica? Have you been crying? You look ridiculous!” The Bitch hisses at me as I take my seat next to her, right before the show begins.
“Thank you,” I say. She side-eyeballs me with an impatient sneer before focusing back on the show. I however, barely see it going by. My head is full of questions and none of them are about having a boyfriend. Bigger issues are at hand for me right now. Like, what just happened inside of my heart? Where did all of those tears come from? And me thinking James was David? Thinking he has never apologized and he should? That was spooky.
I’m on autopilot the rest of the day, plagued with wondering. Only a few things break through the fog my head is in. They are:
1.) James hands me an apple around 1pm by tucking it into my hand covertly while we pass each other in the hall. It is the only thing I eat all day.
2.) When I give orders to Brittany, I can barely look into those twenty-year-old eyes of hers (okay…I let her age past twelve out of deference to her cooperation). When I do, I’m not sure what the hell she is thinking, which is terrifying.
3.) Because I’m emotionally detached and gliding around all day - nothing goes wrong. I should lose it more often. Maybe I’d care less. How bad could that be?
At the end of the day, I text Amber and tell her it’s an emergency and ask, can she please meet me for a drink. She texts back that yes, she can. Where and when? And should she invite Nicole? Yes, please.
The more girlfriend-support, the better.
That Night
We decide to meet at “The Tippler” in Chelsea around 7:30 p.m. Amber said the orchids in the drinks would cheer me up. Fine. Good. Yes. I’m in. She and I wait less than ten minutes before Nicole walks in, joins us, reaches over to touch my hand and purrs, “Tell me all about it, honey.”
I smile gratefully. “I don’t really know. I had a freak out. Complete and total freak out. Huge meltdown. All of these emotions came rushing out of me. You know me. I keep it together pretty well. I did the opposite of keeping it together. I fell apart and I fell apart big time.”
“Was it your boss? Did she finally break you? I swear... I’m going to find a way to hurt her one of these days!” Amber promises, outraged.
“No, it wasn’t her. I was with James. I thought he and The Bitch were dating again and I went to confront him, because he and I just had sex in one of the back tent rooms yesterday, and I had no idea they were dating– ”
“You had sex at Fashion Week? In public?” Amber asks, shocked.
Nicole looks at her like she’s crazy, and asks, dumbfounded, “Have you met Jessica?”
That makes me smile and I confess to Amber in a quieter voice, “Well, we weren’t on the stage! But, yeah. I like sex in public places. Why should we be confined to bedrooms, Amber? Although, after what happened with today’s session, I should question my philosophy.”
Nicole switches her confusion to me now. “You had sex today, too?” I nod. “I haven’t had sex in two months you’re getting it twice in two days. What is wrong with my life?” She rolls those scotch-colored eyes of hers and shakes her fist at the world. It’s overly dramatic and hilarious.
“Yes. I did. But, here’s the thing. Yesterday we had sex. So hot, right? Me bent over a chair behind a curtain at the DVF show…”
“I love her,” says Amber.
“I love being bent over a chair,” adds Nicole.
I nod that they are both right and continue, “Totally. Then today, The Bitch says she’s taking James with her to the big event our magazine is having.”
Amber raises her eyebrows. “She told you this?!”
“No, she told her boss this. I was standing there.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.”
“Right. So then I go to tell James off and all of a sudden I’m in this whirlwind where he’s not James anymore. All of a sudden, he’s David! And all I want is for him to know how badly he hurt me. So that I can hear him say he’s sorry.”
“No, you didn’t.” Nicole’s face scrunches up and looks like it might explode, but somehow she still looks beautiful. Why do some women get all the good genes? Plus, thanks to her African-American ancestry, her skin looks five, maybe ten years younger than ours. She’s going to age so well, and we, Amber and myself, are going to have to spend a million dollars on moisturizers. Yay us.
Back to my story. “I did. I went to yell at him. He was talking to this cute little twelve year old (she’s back to being twelve. I’m only human.) and that really set me flying even further into crazy land.” I wave my hands like I’m looking through tall bushes for a way out and coming up empty.
Amber takes a big gulp of her chardonnay. “Those younger girls sure can throw you into a tail spin. And why? Why do we do this to ourselves? I’m only 30! It’s ridiculous!”
“I know, right? So, that’s where my head is. I’ve just heard he’s back with my boss, now he’s talking to a pretty young thing who’s playing with her hair, and all of a sudden he morphs into my cheating bastard of an ex. I was in hell. I called him an asshole! Don’t look at me like that. It gets better. Then he drags me into a private area that is only closed by thin tent fabric and I burst into tears! Niagara Falls pouring down my face in front of a guy! My co-worker who, in fact, I’ve been banging… who used to bang my boss! Do I need therapy?” I ask my best friends in the whole world, hoping they’ll help me understand myself. Lord knows I don’t have a clue.
“No!” Amber shouts.
“No,” Nicol
e agrees, shaking her head and pursing her lips. “What you need is another drink! We all do, before I can listen to the rest of this story.”
Amber looks at her glass, sees a fairly significant amount staring back at her. She looks at me from underneath raised, incredulous eyebrows and asks, “You cried in front of him? At work?” I nod. She nods back, brings the glass to her cute little lips and drinks it all down. She then announces, “Yes, we need another round!”
Nicole calls to the bartender who is very cute (you have to be, to bartend in Manhattan) and tells him, ““Excuse me! Another round, please! Do you remember?” She’s referring to our previous order, of course.
“Yep!” he calls back. People are looking at us, but who cares about them?
“Wonderful! You’re amazing! Hurry, please! This is an emergency,” she calls out and then turns back to us.
“Anything for you, gorgeous,” he hollers in a tone that makes all of our heads twist in his direction. Well, well, well. Nicole blinks once, takes him in, blinks a second time, and breaks into an embarrassed, shy smile. He’s bearded, burly, and looks like Clive Owen with even more testosterone, which is saying something. I can’t believe her reaction. I think my jaw is on the table, because I have never seen her be… what’s the best word for it? Coquettish? Yes. Coquettish!
“Looks like your two month long dry patch just got wet,” I whisper loud enough for only the two of them to hear. Amber giggles, biting her tongue through her teeth like she does, with the tip of it sticking out through her cute little smile. Nicole shoots me a hopeful look and we all remain silent while we wait for our drinks. Time for Nicole to check out the menu! (I’m so glad I didn’t say that aloud. They can’t all be gems.) Nicole has an admirer that makes her go girly! Yay! She’s such a great person. I hope she finds someone who makes her happy. She deserves it, and she’s been looking for someone interesting for a while now.
As for myself? I don’t want that. No, I’m just not ready for anything serious right now.
Wait…is that true?
“Thank you,” Nicole purrs to the bartender as he puts our new drinks on the table. He’s made the extra effort to come out from the behind the bar to deliver them to us or - more accurately - to her, personally.
“What’s your name?” he asks Nicole. I size him up quickly. He has hazel eyes framed by warm smile lines. His hair and beard have a slight ginger tinge to them. Nice. From his overall essence and air of confidence and commence, I think he just might be man enough for our Nicole. This could be interesting. Amber and I share a look and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am.
“I’m Nicole, and this is Amber, and that’s Jessica,” she motions to us with a small head nod, politely. The smile she gives him is more than polite.
“Ladies. Nice to meet you. These are on me…” But as we begin oohing and ahhing with “thank you’s” he holds out a hand in the stop position and adds, to Nicole, “…on one condition. That you let me take you out this Friday night.”
Nicole can’t take her eyes off him. She takes a deep breath in. “Friday? Um… sure. I’d like that.”
“Great. Here’s my phone. Please put your number in it for me. I have to go make drinks.” He drops his iPhone on the table and walks back behind the bar, leaving us watching him with our mouths hanging open. As he walks away we can hear him turning her name over in his mind as he repeats, “Nicole. Ni-cole.” When he steps behind the bar, their eyes meet and he smiles at her one last time, before going back to work.
Amber’s blue eyes are fixed on Nicole as she reaches over, grabs her arm and breathes, “Wow. That was amazing.”
“Well, looks like I have a date,” Nicole quietly says, almost to herself, as she picks up his phone, opens up the contact list and adds hers. “He doesn’t have Emoji, or I’d put a heart by it. That would be too much, wouldn’t it?” She looks to me and I say yes, but Amber tries to veto and says no. I remind her of the flowers and that shuts her up.
Leaning forward I acquiesce, in a conspiratorial whisper, “You can put a winky-face, though.”
“How is that different than flowers?” Amber argues. I wink at her. She says, “Oh.”
“Yes. Put a winky-face. Every time he pulls up your name, that little flirtation will make him smile.” Nicole nods, agrees with me and puts the winky-face.
We all pick up our drinks and toast to the unknown surprises of life.
Nicole asks me, “So, what were you saying, honey?”
“You know what? I figured it out. I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now. It’s the instinct that keeps popping up before I even realize that’s what I’m thinking. I have to trust that, don’t I? On top of that, I now know that I really want David to apologize to me. I want to hear him say he’s sorry.” I shrug and take another sip of my Chopin on the rocks, two limes. It’s refreshing and it makes me feel better.
“He may never do that, Jess.” Amber warns me, protectively.
“He should! But he probably won’t,” Nicole adds, disgusted.
“It doesn’t matter. I know it. And that’s all that matters. Maybe that’s why I keep running into him. This unfinished business is drawing him to me?”
“You saw him AGAIN?” they both ask, simultaneously.
“Yep! Can you believe it? This morning, before work. He was in line at Pax. He didn’t see me, though. I ran out of there.”
“Oh well, there ya go!” Amber announces like she just found the answer to life, the universe and everything.
“What?” I am totally in the dark. Nicole, too, waits, all ears.
Amber excitedly tells me, “That’s why you were side-swiped by your emotions. You run into him, dodge him and your feelings, and then bam, The Bitch drops a bomb and oh, wait… ”
I read her mind. “James is not back with The Bitch. It’s just in her crazy mind. She thinks she can make him go, just like she makes everyone do everything.”
“How sad!” Nicole whispers.
We all get quiet for a minute. Then we look at each other and I say, “Screw her,” and we toast one more time.
I love my girlfriends.
Around 10 P.M.
Back at my place, cuddled on the couch with my book, wearing my comfy grey sweats and tank top – I hear the distinctive sound of an incoming email on my phone. I reach over and pick it up from where it sits, hidden among the piles of magazines and letters on my low coffee table. Opening it up I see the name Mark. I fly off the couch, staring at it like it’s an illusion.
Mark emailed. I never thought I’d hear from him again, after he went back home to San Francisco. But there he is. The subject line reads: Thinking of you.
My heart is beating fast in my chest. Mark’s name surprising me out of the blue – really does something to me. Meeting him, our little rendezvous, was such a surprise, because I ended up really liking him. And he showed up with flowers, so that was pretty amazing since it hasn’t happened to me for a long time. But then he wanted me to open up to him, even though he was destined to break my already shattered heart, because he lives three thousand miles away! That’s not close by, by any stretch of the imagination, you know?
I don’t believe in long-distance relationships. I need to physically see my boyfriend. Especially since my ex cheated on me and he lived with me. I saw him every night and still he was untrustworthy. How could I handle never seeing my boyfriend, and hoping for the best in between visits that are too far and few, between?
I should probably just open the email before I hyperventilate. Maybe he just wants to say hi or tell me he left something at my place. I open it and read: I’m coming to New York next weekend. You’re on my mind all the time. I’d love to see you while I’m there. Let me take you out on Friday. Don’t say no this time. – Mark.
Gulp. He’s coming to town. How can I say no to seeing him?
What about James?
Just then, a text comes through and at first I think, wouldn’t it be a wild coincidence if James tex
ted me right now? I close my eyes before I look at the phone, hold my breath, and peek them open. But it’s from Nicole and it read: The bartender’s name! We didn’t get his name!
Wow. She’s right! Well, I guess she’ll find out soon enough.
I text back: Can we just call him Captain Courageous?
Nicole: How about STUD?
I laugh at this and am about to reply when another text comes through, from James! Whoa.
I almost drop the phone when I read: I want to take you on a real date. Friday?
Holy, what?!! I pick up the glass of water I have on the coffee table and drink it down, fast. I need hydration. This can’t be happening. I put it, and the phone, back on the table. My phone with its text from James and its email from Mark both asking me out for the same night, stares back at me. Why is this happening to me?
I lower myself slowly onto the couch and stare at my phone like it’s an alien who’s just spoken for the first time. Hello Earthling. Who will you do? I mean, choose?
I have no idea. I’m not sure how I feel about either of them. Can I have them both? Meet one earlier and the other later? Is that possible? No, that’d be a total dick move. I’m not a dick. I’m a lady with a problem. Laughing somewhat hysterically, I stand up and pace the room, shooting frantic looks at my alien phone, before opting to go to the kitchen where I pour the last glass of Pinot Grigio. This is going to take more than water. Asking my heart for guidance, I lean against and wall, take a sip of my cold, calming wine and wonder, what do I want? What do I really want to do?
The answer comes. I walk to the phone. I pick it up.
I turn it off.
The answer is simple. What I really want is…is to think about this later. This day has been to much and there is no way I’m thinking correctly. Plus it’s the middle of freaking Fashion Week. I need to get some sleep!
As Scarlett O’Hara said, “After all… tomorrow is another day.”
(glug glug)
I Love My Healed Heart: 4 Book Box Set/Omnibus (Erotic Romance) Page 11
