Speaking of homes, how coincidental was it that her former coworker Nicole needed a place to live? Apparently the house Nicole was renting had been sold, and she only had a month to find other living quarters. Cindy offered Nicole the extra bedroom at their home, which in turn made it much easier for Val to move out. Yes, the stars are aligning for me. It’s about time as I’ve certainly paid my dues.
Rather, I’ve paid more than my dues. I've supported two wives, giving them everything they asked for in return for so little. I bought them cars, homes, and one of them, a complete head-to-toe makeover. One plastic surgery procedure had led to another and another, and soon she became addicted. She never seemed to be happy with herself. Nothing was ever good enough for her. I suppose this town contributed to her addiction. She never felt comfortable around me when we were out and about. She always acted extremely insecure, always accusing me of cheating on her.
I hope I'm doing the right thing this time. I hope I'm not corrupting an innocent young woman. Val seems so squeaky clean in comparison to the others. On the other hand, however, she also appears strong willed. She has a burning desire to do things on her own. That’s one of the reasons I chose her.
Sure, I could've chosen Cindy or Nicole, the two party girls. I’ve seen them both before, studying them from afar, watching their maneuvers as they flirted with the hotel guests. But I know their type. I know it all too well. They are easily distracted and tend to engage in the silly surface drama.
I'm at a point in my life whereby I cannot tolerate any distractions. I need to focus on my plan one hundred percent. This time around, I need a solid agreement from a woman who wants to go the distance—a woman who knows the genuine meaning of commitment.
I make my way into the kitchen and over to the counter to uncork a bottle of Merlot. As I retrieve a stemmed glass from the cabinet, I think back to my first dinner with Val. She had ordered white wine, Pinot Grigio, if I recall. If she's to be with a man like me, she's going to have to ditch the white and switch to red. She’ll need to learn that red wine has higher levels of antioxidants. If you’re going to drink wine, red is the only way to go.
With the glass in hand, I take a seat on the couch and flip open my laptop. After taking a long sip of my wine, I log into my favorite website. I check to see who's online, if I have any new messages and if anyone's interested in what I'm offering. I see a few familiar faces and reply to three messages. Other than that, nothing new has caught my eye.
Reaching for my glass, I swirl the liquid, wondering if I'll be able to check in as much as I do after Val arrives. I still haven't figured out how I'm going to go about introducing her to my world. Will it be something she'll understand? Something she’ll accept? Or will it be something that will send her running for the hills?
13
Valerie
The minute I returned home, Cindy was all over me asking a million and one questions.
“So, how did it go? Tell me all about it.” She was jumping up and down like a kid in a candy shop.
“It went really well. We had a nice week together. I was pleasantly surprised by how great a travel partner he is. It’s been so long since I've traveled with someone.”
“You have a killer tan,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “What did you guys do all week?”
“Oh, a bunch of activities, David has a ton of energy, much more than I do.”
“When are you going to see him again?”
“You're not going to believe this,” I paused, biting on my lower lip. “But he asked me to move in with him.”
“Get out of here! Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I was speechless. It kinda came out of nowhere. But I—”
“But you like him, right? Of course, you do, I can see it written all over your face. Do you feel comfortable enough with him to move into his house?”
“I do. It’s weird because we had an instant connection.”
“Well, the timing is right if you’re going to take the plunge. With Nicole losing her house and all, she needs another place to live. I figured you’d be okay with it when I offered her the extra room.”
“Yeah, thanks for sending me the text. I appreciate the heads up.”
For a moment, I thought of telling Cindy my suspicions about Nicole. About her maybe having something to do with getting me fired. But I didn't want to spoil the mood or cause any drama. Besides, things always turn out the way they are supposed to.
“So when do you leave?”
“He wants me to move in as soon as possible. And I need to find a job, so I'll be packing my belongings and leaving this week.”
“Who would've thought my little Val would be scooped up from the trenches of the Vegas strip.”
“Yeah, well, if it doesn't work out, I don't know what I'll do. I guess I could always come back here… although it’s not my ideal preference.”
“I know, but Nicole and I will be here slinging drinks as usual. And we’ll always have room for you.”
“Thanks, Cindy, I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me.”
She reached out and gave me a hug.
Lugging my suitcase down the hall, I quickly unpacked and did a couple loads of laundry. I began cleaning out my closet, packing most of my things into my luggage. I just needed to pick up a few more boxes to pack the rest of my belongings. I didn't have much since I had downsized upon moving to Vegas. At that point, my entire life fit into ten boxes.
Cindy came waltzing into my room, a bottle of Prosecco in one hand, and two wine glasses in the other. Setting them down on the dresser, she poured us a drink.
“A toast to you and your new man,” she said, handing me a glass. “I wish you all the best, my friend.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, raising my glass to her while sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.
"You are going to keep in touch, right?”
“Of course, I am. I don't know anyone in California except David.”
“I’m sure you’ll make some new friends there.”
“Maybe so, but it might take me a while. Between David and finding a new job, I’ll probably be pretty busy.”
Cindy sat down next to me and started helping me pack. “Maybe I can come out and visit you? It’s been years since I was in LA. I have a few vacation days I need to use before I lose them.”
“That would be great. I'm sure David wouldn't mind, and he has a spare room, plus he's an easy-going guy.”
“Yeah, if his personality matches his fine looks, I'd say you did good girl.” Leaning into me, she elbowed my side.
“I just hope I'm doing the right thing. Everything has happened so quickly.”
“I’ll have to say it's definitely out of your character. It’s not something someone like you would do.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I took another sip of wine.
“I don't know. I guess it’s something I figured Nicole would do, but not you.”
There was her name again, Nicole. I suppose I’d better get used to it since she’d be moving in and basically taking my place. She was a nice enough person, but sometimes hard to read.
“So when is Nicole moving in?”
“Next week. Maybe we should have a little party and give you a send-off.”
“That sounds good.”
Cindy stood up and reached for the bottle, refilling her glass and then turning to me.
“No thanks,” I placed my hand over the top of the glass. “I need to stop at one. I drank way too much alcohol over the past few weeks.”
“Okay, that just means more vino for me.” Flipping her hair, she turned and strutted out of the room.
I picked up my laptop and sat on my bed. I hadn't done much research on David aside from checking out his website and photos. For the next two hours, I googled his name, seeing if I could dig up any dirt on him, making sure he was the man he said he was and to give me some peace of mind.
I didn't find much information other than a few old add
resses and a couple of defunct websites. But my main concern was finding his ex-wives. Who says ‘I do’ twice to two different women? I would think after the first time it loses its effect. It ruins the whole meaning of ‘to have and to hold—till death do us part.’
Unless. No. Wait a minute. He didn’t say he was divorced. Could he be widowed? I couldn’t believe I had never thought of it until that moment. What if one of his wives or both of them were dead?
Goosebumps dimpled my arms and my stomach twisted and turned. I quickly began searching the addresses, hoping to connect him to the names of his ex-wives. They had to share an address, right? I had to find out if they were still alive.
I first came across a woman named Susan who was linked to him via one of those background information sites. As I clicked on her photo to enlarge it, my computer froze and then crashed, flashing me the blue screen of death.
14
David
Val is due to arrive at any moment. I gaze out the window, glance down the street, and watch for her silver Jeep. I'm not sure if I should break the news to her right away or wait a day or two. I didn't expect my plans to change so quickly. I thought we would have more time here in California. But it looks as if things are progressing more rapidly and I'm going to have to make the move sooner than I had anticipated.
Perhaps we’ll order a take-out meal tonight. We’ll share a bottle of wine, cuddle on the couch, and watch a romantic movie together, a chick flick. I’m not a fan of them, but I can suck it up for a night—anything for my Val. That will put her in the mood and relax her a bit. Maybe then I can tell her what she needs to know.
She must have texted me at least twenty times over the past two days, asking me all sorts of questions. For a moment, I thought she was getting cold feet. I thought she was going to back out of our plan. That wouldn't have been good. It would've set me back. I’m so glad I was able to alleviate her worries and put her mind at ease. It's what I do. I’m a master at providing relief.
Thirty minutes later there's a knock on my door. I waltz over to the foyer and turn the handle.
“There’s my girl.” I flash a genuine smile. “No turning back now,” I reach out and embrace her.
“Here I am. I made it. My whole life packed in the back of my Jeep.” She looks at me as if she’s about to be sick.
“Why don't you park in the garage and bring in the items you’ll need for the night. We can unpack the rest of your belongings in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“I was thinking about ordering take-out food. Do you prefer Chinese or Italian?”
“A pizza would taste good right about now. It’s Friday night, after all.”
“Is pizza some sort of tradition?” I don’t quite understand her meaning.
“Yeah, we always order pizza on Fridays.”
“Then a pizza it is,” I say with a hesitant breath.
Val walks back to her vehicle and I slide my phone from my pocket. I order a thin crust, veggie pizza. I can’t handle heavy cheese and thick bread; it’s too much. I don’t want to wake up all bloated in the morning. In my book, pizza should only be eaten on special occasions. Although today could probably count as one of those occasions.
I'll let it go this time because we’re celebrating. But I will not allow this habit to become a tradition… on Fridays or any other night.
After polishing off three slices of pizza each, we sit on the couch next to each other. I hand Val the remote while I pour us second glasses of wine.
“Pick whatever movie you want to watch. I’m open to anything.”
“I love mysteries and old-fashioned psychological thrillers. You know, the ones that make you think,” she replies.
I take a sip of wine, holding her gaze, wondering if she can sense my thoughts.
“How about you?” She reaches for her glass. “What's your favorite movie genre?”
“I like a good action-adventure.”
Clicking through the remote, she finds her thriller, and I curl up next to her, putting my arm around her shoulder. Leaning in, I kiss her softly on the cheek and then settle back to enjoy the show.
After an hour, she starts nodding off and misses the end of the movie. Somehow I have the feeling she’s seen it before. I gently nudge her, wake her from her slumber and help her to bed, calling it a night.
The next morning I let her sleep in as I mosey into the kitchen to make breakfast. A half-hour later, I hear footsteps padding down the hallway. She soon appears, standing at the edge of the counter rubbing her eyes.
“It smells wonderful in here,” she yawns, stretching her arms.
“Good morning. Care for some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
I pour her a steaming cup, placing it on the counter.
“Thanks.” Wrapping her hands around the mug, she takes a long sip.
“How about a spinach omelette to go with that?”
“Okay, thank you.” She slides onto the barstool and watches me as I maneuver around the kitchen dressed in my boxers.
“So, what's on the agenda today?” she asks.
“I have a few phone calls to make after breakfast. After that, I'm free. I thought we could take a bike ride down to the beach. I need to burn off that pizza from last night.”
“Sounds like a plan; I need to stretch. My back is a little sore from yesterday… from driving all day.”
I think about breaking the news to her over breakfast but decide to wait and save it for later. There’s no use throwing a curveball at her so early in the morning.
I put on a T-shirt and sweatpants and go downstairs to check the air in the bike tires. Val offers to do the dishes and puts everything away. It’s nice to see her stepping up without me having to ask her. It’s been less than twenty-four hours and she already seems to feel at home. Too bad we won’t be spending much time here together. Sometimes that is the way things go. Everything happens for a reason, they say.
We pedal our way down to the beach and stop, parking our bikes. As we stroll along the boardwalk, I eye an empty bench. Taking her hand, I guide her over to it and sit down beside her. I figure there’s no perfect time to break the news to her.
I gather my thoughts but they’re interrupted as her phone starts ringing. I watch as she furiously digs through her purse.
“Hello,” she says. Then, “I’m sorry. I totally forgot. I know, I know, I meant to. We had dinner, and then I fell asleep. Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry to make you worry. Are you okay? Is everything okay there? Right now? We’re at the beach. Yes, I will. I promise I will. Okay. Talk to you later.”
“What was that all about?” I ask, a bit concerned.
“Cindy. I forgot to call her when I arrived last night. She was worried about me.”
“Sounds like she’s looking out for you.”
“Yeah, she’s a good friend.”
A good friend with bad timing, I think to myself.
15
Valerie
One morning I woke up to a note on the nightstand. It read, ‘gone to get groceries; be back soon.’ David had been leaving me all kinds of memos. Some were love notes and others were reminders and instructions.
The day before, it was ‘don’t forget to unplug the toaster after you use it’ and the previous week, ‘turn off the lights when you leave the room and don’t use the clothes dryer for more than thirty minutes.’ At times I felt like a child being chastised for every move I made.
But then he had left a note on my desk that read, ‘this desk belongs to a best-selling author.’ I thought it was sweet the way he supported my dreams. He encouraged me to write every day and even bought me a brand new computer. He said he wanted nothing but the best for me, or so it seemed.
After rushing into things so quickly, I told him I needed to take a few steps back, that I was someone who needed my own space. He respected my wishes and was okay with me staying in his spare room. Of course, there were times in the middle of the night when he would sneak in
and slide under the covers with me.
When I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water that morning, I noticed David’s keys on the counter. That's strange, I thought to myself as I walked downstairs and headed toward the garage. I opened the door and my jeep was gone. He had taken my vehicle to buy groceries. I was a bit taken back at first but then figured he had a good reason. Maybe he was having car trouble.
I was about to walk back upstairs and take a shower when the doorbell rang. Still dressed in my pajamas, I was hesitant to open the door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw a heavily made-up young woman standing there. My first thought was maybe she was at the wrong house.
As I opened the door, she barged right in and stood in the foyer.
“Is David here?” she asked, chewing a piece of gum and gazing over my shoulder.
“Uh, no, he’s not. He should be back shortly, though.” A handful of questions flashed through my mind.
Glaring at me, she twirled a long strand of hair. “And who are you?”
“I'm Valerie, and you are?”
“Kayla,” she replied, eyeing me up and down through her inch-long lashes. “David has something of mine I need to pick up.”
“I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
“He has my number. Tell him to call me.”
“Okay then.”
She spun around and headed back out the door. In her tiny tank top and short shorts, I watched as she turned the sidewalk into a catwalk, her long blonde ponytail bouncing behind her.
What on earth have I stepped into? I had to shake the unpleasant thoughts that entered my mind. She acted as if she knew him well and I wondered how well. I headed down the hallway and into the bathroom. I needed a long, hot shower to wash away my unconfirmed thoughts.
When David came home, it was lunchtime, and at that point, he had been gone for nearly four hours.
The Glass House Page 6
