by Juliet Woods
“I know, you're so right. But my body just doesn't cooperate when it starts going into panic mode. And what panics me most of all is that Ethan will find out I'm not really worth his time and drop me like a bad habit.”
“Are you kidding me? Why wouldn't you be worth his time? You're a caring, interesting, and smart person. I don't want to hear any more of that low self-esteem crap. You're a queen, lady. Own it.”
I smile. “Thanks, Callie. I just don't want to get hurt by this guy.”
She brings her face close to mine. “You've gotta risk getting hurt if you want to find love. You'll never find it if you wall yourself off.”
I groan. “Why do you always have to be so right all the time?”
“Hey, I just tell it like I see it, babe.” She looks down at her phone. “Mark just sent me a text. Hey, you wanna go out tonight? Mark's brother is in town, and we're going out with a few friends to this new bar.”
I feel a lump in my throat. I have to say no again, just like I always do.
“I'm sorry, Callie, but I just don't feel up to it tonight.”
“Hey, what happened to your new lease on life?”
“One step at a time, all right? You know how hard it is for me to be social at work and then see new people at night. We introverts need quiet time to recharge our social batteries.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don't really understand this whole social anxiety thing, but I know it's hard for you.”
“But you go on ahead if you want to meet up with them.”
“You sure you don't mind? His brother's only in town for a couple of days...”
“I don't mind.”
Callie starts to type her reply in her phone, then stops. “You know what? Screw it. I wanna stay here with you. I haven't seen you in forever.”
She types a new reply on her phone, then turns it off, snuggling next to me on the futon.
“How about we watch that new Bradley Cooper movie? I hear he takes his shirt off in it.”
I smile. This is why I love Callie. She doesn't know exactly what I go through, but she takes my word that it's a struggle. And that's how it's always been with us, ever since we met at age 16 – me an orphan, and her abandoned by her single mom. We've always got each other's back.
Chapter 8
Ethan
After hearing the bad news from my lawyer, I spend the rest of the day trying to reach Vivian. My nerves are shot, and I'm on edge about everything.
Masie asks me what's wrong over dinner. Not much gets past that little girl. I don't want her to be worried about the custody battle, so I have to tell her nothing – another little white lie.
Finally, after Masie's been asleep an hour, I get a call from Vivian.
“Ethan, so good to hear your voice,” she says raspily into the phone. “It's been so long since we've spoken. You're too busy for your old friends like me?
“Cut the shit, Vivian,” I interrupt. “You were never a friend of mine. Why are you trying to get Masie?”
“I’m concerned for her welfare, Ethan.”
I grit my teeth as she continues.
“I think all of Manhattan would agree with me when I say that your reputation is getting a bit out of hand, Ethan dear. A new woman every night? Tsk, tsk. This is how you show respect to the memory of my dear sister?”
“She was never that dear to you, Vivian. You treated her like shit. Did you ever even go visit her in the hospital?” I stop before I let myself get carried away. Taking a deep breath, I begin again. “What I do in my social life is none of your business.”
“It's my business how my niece is being raised, and I just don't think your house of ill repute is the right place for her.”
“My house of ill – Vivian, where do you come up with this stuff? Masie doesn't even know what I do after hours. I don't bring women home, and I have nannies and tutors for her when I'm out. She has a great life, and she doesn't even know you. Why would it be good for her to live with you?”
“A young girl like that needs a female caregiver, Ethan. And she needs stability.”
“So you're convinced that you'd be a better guardian for my daughter?”
“Absolutely.”
“Bullshit,” I hiss into the phone. “You want the child support money. You're broke and out on your luck, and you think you can get at my money this way.”
“Ethan, I'm insulted that you would think that of me --”
“Save your breath, Vivian. Just tell me how much you want. I'll write a check for you tonight so we can be done with this.”
“That's not what I'm after, Ethan. My intentions are pure, I assure you.”
“I'm not buying it, Vivian. So how much? Would fifty million be enough to get you out of my life?”
She pauses for a beat, and I hear her suck in her breath a tiny bit. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there. And it's enough to assure me the money's all she wants, despite what she says.
“Again, I just want to provide a better home for my niece. Nothing more.”
I close my eyes. So be it – there's no convincing her when she's like this.
“Fine, Vivian. See you in court.”
I slam down the phone, making the crystal flower vase shake on the glass coffee table.
She's always been a little crazy, but never anything like this. She seems to have actually convinced herself that she only wants to help Masie. She’s only after my money, though she would deny it to her grave.
Sara was the black sheep of that money-hungry, power-climbing family, the Stones. Vivian took after her parents, using her teeth and nails to climb farther up the ladder, building their family investment business up by back stabbing everyone in their path.
Sara had always rejected her family's unethical business strategies. When she married me, a working class guy trying to make it in the financial world, they pretty much disowned Sara. They thought she was disgracing the family by marrying down. Sara’s family hardly spoke to her after our engagement was announced. And they cut her off from the family assets.
But Sara and I didn’t stay poor for long. We built our fortune honestly, by doing the legwork, making allies, and investing wisely. And it finally paid off, but all the money in the world couldn't stop the cancer that took over her body.
Sara’s family saw Masie only once: as a toddler, at the funeral.
Shortly after Sara passed away, her father died suddenly. Since then, their financial firm has suffered, and the last I heard, they were selling off a lot of their assets.
And now she has the gall to show up in my life again, wanting to take my daughter away? There's just no fucking way.
In a way, I kind of feel sorry for her. She was never the most mentally stable person, and now it seems she's really gone off the deep end if she thinks she can be a legal guardian of a child. But her pride won't let her just accept a check from me – she has to make it look like she's acting purely out of altruistic motives.
I don't want to take Vivian down in a legal battle, but if she's going after Masie, she'll regret not accepting my offer of a check.
As I pour myself a bourbon, my thoughts turn to Lily. I hardly know the girl, but I find myself wishing she were here with me right now. Somehow, I have the feeling that she could make me feel better.
Chapter 9
Lily
I try to get Callie to stay the night, but she insists on going home. She's a little drunk off the white wine, and she calls her boyfriend to pick her up. After giving me lots of slurred advice about Ethan, most of which I can't decipher, she crawls into Mark's car, and I go inside to get ready for bed.
Just after I've changed into my pajamas, I hear a knock at the door.
“What'd you forget, Callie?” I call as I unlock the door.
But it's not Callie standing there when I swing it open. Instead, it's my landlord, Louis, looking rather drunk and disheveled. His hair's all mussed up, a far cry from his usual neat comb-over, his shirt is filthy, and he reeks of booze.
“Oh, hi, Louis,” I say, feeling the anxiety growing in my core.
“Hello, Lily,” he says, emphasizing my name in a mean-spirited way.
I don't like this at all. I consider slamming the door in his face and locking it, but Louis has never given me trouble before. He's always been a little creepy, like a lot of men are in my shitty neighborhood. But I've never seen him drunk like this before.
“W-what's up?” I ask meekly.
“The time is up, that's what's up. Rent's due. Come on, hand it over.” He slurs his words and holds out his pale, stubby hand, apparently expecting the rent at this exact moment.
“Louis, we had an agreement, remember? You – you raised my rent without warning, so you said I could get the extra to you in a few weeks. And anyway, I started a new job and I don't get paid till the end of the month. You know how it is, right?”
“Yeah, I know how it is all right, missy.” His eyes languidly trail down to my thin pajama top, where my breasts are no doubt very visible, and not hidden away under a bra.
I cross my arms over my chest, my face burning.
“Hey, why don't you come back tomorrow or sometime when you've sobered up,” I say, pushing the door a little closer to the frame.
“I'm sober right now,” he slurs. “I've been sober for 16 years.”
Looks like you need to call your AA sponsor, I think to myself.
“Well, it's late right now, Louis. Can't we talk about this tomorrow?” I plead.
“You need to pay,” his eyes look me up and down. “You need to pay now.”
Something's really wrong – I can see it in his eyes. They look dark and empty. My arms instinctively push the door toward the frame, but he blocks it with his foot. He starts to push the door open and steps the other foot inside my apartment. Without thinking, like a reflex, I knee him in the balls, hard.
He falls back, doubled over in pain and groaning. I slam the door shut, lock the door knob and the deadbolt, and fasten the door chain.
I grab my phone, dialing the police with shaking fingers. The operator on the other line is disinterested and impatient with my nervous stuttering. Finally, I give her my address and they say they'll send somebody over to check up on me.
Louis is apparently back on his feet and pounding on the door while he hurls obscenities at me.
I'm starting to lose myself to the panic. I can't breathe, I can't see straight.
Please, please make him go away.
You can do this, just breathe, just breathe, I coach myself. Little by little, my heart starts to slow down a little and I stop shaking.
By the time the cops arrive, Louis has already retreated up to his apartment, apparently. After they ask me a few questions, they go upstairs to talk to him.
I slump down on my floor, sobbing, as the fear subsides and sadness takes its place.
I'm not exactly sure what I'm sad about – that I have to live in this dump, that I become a basket case of anxiety over everything, that I don't have my mother around anymore to tell me it's going to be OK, that my father's not here to take me into his arms.
It all just presses down on me like an unbearable weight, and I give in to the tears that come for a long while.
The problem I have with anxiety has become crippling, I decide as I pour myself some juice. It doesn't matter if it's a scary encounter with a drunk guy, or just talking to a stranger on the street – my mind reacts with terror and panic. I can't go on like this anymore.
I wasn't always like this, though. I was an outgoing, pretty well-adjusted kid. But the car accident changed all that. The wreck that took my parents away from me, and made me into a different person. It sent me into the foster care system, where I was bullied, alone, and terrified without the people I'd relied on my whole life. I slowly became paralyzed with fear.
I miss my old life. I miss the old me.
I'll definitely have to move out of here now, I think sadly. I can't live with my landlord terrorizing me.
But what about all the other things that terrify me? Like meeting new people, going out in public? I can't hide from that all my life.
Something's got to change. I've known that for a long time. I just don't know how to make it happen.
Chapter 10
Ethan
At work the next day, I find myself thinking of reasons to call Lily into my office as much as possible. Each time she enters, I get an eyeful of her bouncing breasts as she crosses to my desk, and her jiggling ass as she leaves.
First I need coffee, then more cream, then some copies made, then another coffee – ad nauseam.
She’s just as shy as ever, and her innocence turns me on. I have to hide my erection behind my desk a number of times. But this is good. I need the distraction of her sexy body, because I’m pretty down about having to drag my daughter through a custody case.
All the while, I’m fuming about Vivian and trying to figure out what to do. I just hope Harry has some good news for me.
Finally he calls late morning.
“Harry, what do you have for me? Tell me it’s something good.”
“I wish I could, Ethan. Unfortunately, we have some bad news about the judge assigned to the case. It’s Judge Roberts. He’s in pretty tight with Vivian’s lawyer, Paul Goldsmith. They were buddies in law school, it seems.”
I run my hand through my hair. Fuck.
“So what’s the deal with this judge? What’s your take on him?”
“Old school. He wants a child to be with a female guardian. He’s been known to remove a child from the custody of the father before.”
I gulp. This damn lump in my throat won’t go away.
My mind races. “That’s crazy. I’m able to provide for Masie in a way most people couldn’t dream of. She’s got the best tutors, the best nannies, goes to the best school… and I pick her up from school and eat dinner with her most nights. Vivian couldn’t give her any of that.”
“Yeah, but none of that may even matter with this judge. Especially if he pulls a favor for Goldsmith.”
These fucking assholes. They’re not taking away my daughter. They can’t.
“I’m waiting for the shred of hope, Harry. Give me something.”
“Ethan, I think you may need to get yourself hitched. As soon as possible.”
“What? You want me to get married?”
“It’s the only way, Ethan. If Masie has a female guardian living with her, Vivian won’t have any advantage over you in the judge’s eyes.”
“That’s ridiculous. Masie won’t be in any better care if I just find some woman to marry.”
“I know that, and you know that, but we have to play this guy’s game. And Ethan, your social life will be a major feature of Goldsmith’s case against you. They’ll play up your… bachelor lifestyle… to no end. They’ll make it look like your priority is chasing women, and not parenting Masie.”
I fight back the humiliation I feel rearing its head. No one has a right to judge me. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want in my down time, as long as I keep Masie happy and cared for first.
“Fine. If that’s what you think it’ll take to keep Masie with me. I’ll find some friend to sign the papers with, then get a divorce in a few months.”
“It needs to look real, Ethan, and as soon as possible. She needs to live with you, make public appearances with you. You need to convince the community of your peers that you two are in love.”
“Shit, Harry, you’re asking a lot.”
“I know. But you have to find a way to make it happen. I’ll check in with you later. Find some woman who you trust and who’ll agree to this as soon as possible. And Ethan, make sure she’s respectable. None of your one-night-stands.”
I sigh, hang up the phone and head to my liquor cabinet.
Masie and I have been alone for 6 years now. We’re everything to each other. Vivian would destroy her life. There’s no question: I have
to find a wife.
I draw the blinds on the windows that look into the common area outside of my office, where the staff is busy working. I look at the female employees – most of them are married, or so unbearably uptight I couldn’t stand living with them. I think of my female friends, if you could call them that. I’ve already slept with most of them, discarding them and moving on to the next. They wouldn’t work either.
Yeah, it has to be Lily.
She came immediately to my mind when Harry sprang his proposal on me, and she’s the only one who makes sense. She’s polite, intelligent, and young enough to quickly learn how to survive in this upscale world she’ll be thrown into. She’d be good with Masie, too. She’s caring and gentle.
And she’s respectable – that is, she has no history of drug abuse or criminal activity, I’m willing to bet. She’s much too shy and innocent for that. She’s not from a wealthy background, but that doesn’t matter – neither am I. And judging from her modesty and shyness around me, I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin, so Goldsmith’s team wouldn’t be able to find some incriminating sex video or photos of her.
And who am I kidding? I want to fuck her so badly I can taste it, and this will be my chance. She’ll move in, become comfortable around me, and sooner or later, she’ll find herself naked in my bed. I can guarantee that.
My dick swells as I think about her lying naked, twisted in my sheets, her round tits rising and falling with her breath, her legs pressed together modestly, out of shyness. Until, that is, I come along and move her knees apart to reveal her slick little pussy, all new and untouched. All of her, just for me.
I take another sip of bourbon, straightening my tie and willing my cock to go down.
When it’s settled back down again, I pick up the phone and tell her to come into my office.
She’s here almost instantly. She’s got on another dowdy get-up, but it still can’t hide her long, shapely legs and trim little waist that flares out into her wide hips.
