by K B Cinder
“That doesn’t sound like you’re talking about work, bro,” he observed. “You’re still hung up on that chick, aren’t you?”
“It’s insane. She’s everywhere. I can’t close my eyes without seeing her face.”
The whole thing was nuts. I missed her. I missed her with every fiber of my being and then some. Even video calls weren’t helping.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Every day.”
“Have you talked to her about...” he trailed.
“No, no!” I dismissed, letting out a shaky breath. “I can’t.”
“You know my stance on that, man. That will be your biggest hurdle. Once you clear that, you’ll know where things stand.”
Bianca was more than a hurdle. She was a trench of toxicity, all but ruining my life. She wasn’t a topic to approach lightly and would scare off anyone in their right mind. Who wanted anything to do with a man that willingly danced with the devil, falling back into the same rhythm of self-destruction and chaos?
“I can’t,” I countered, shaking my head. There was no way Elena could find out about her. She was too pure to get wrapped up in that.
“You’re only protecting yourself, not her. If you want anything to work, be upfront about your past, present, and future.”
“Since when are you a therapist?” I joked, trying to get a hold of things. I was hoping he’d let me off easy, but no such luck.
“You know I’m right.”
“I’ve only known her since June...” I trailed, not wanting to add we’d only been sleeping together for a little over a month. It was nuts to my own ears. Who thought about a relationship that fast? God knows I didn’t. But was I really considering one? The same guy that shunned stores and restaurants around Valentine’s Day to avoid stepping in love?
It was all so fast. So consuming. So wild.
Elena blew in like a tiny tornado, uprooting routines and rigid structure, yet everything seemed to land as intended all along. I woke up and looked forward to each day, to each new adventure.
The moment I laid eyes on that organ transplant lunchbox, I was convinced she was a weirdo, and I was right, but she was my weirdo and my kind of crazy.
But she deserved to know. If I wanted to be with her — and I did — she had to know what lurked behind the suit and tie. Why I couldn’t let go of the reins.
“Feelings don’t follow the concept of time,” he said softly, and I felt each word for both of us, for each of our paths, as different as they were.
Elena
Sex droughts were never fun, but they sucked a lot more after growing accustomed to a waterfall of pleasure. I survived the two weeks unscathed and hadn’t taken my vibrating friend out for a spin. Frequent phone sex with a certain someone rendered it useless.
Besides our raunchy chats, we discussed work, but I left out the dust-up with Marty. I didn’t want a bloodbath to ensue once he was back in New York. Besides, Marty hadn’t said another word since.
Jason secured a seven-figure contract in DC, and an inventory buy-out, both tasks for Corporate, not Ithaca. I was ecstatic for him, but it stung, a reality check that there was an endgame to it all. I didn’t know how I’d fill his size thirteens, but I’d enjoy him while I could.
My non-wedding anniversary came and went, not a tear in sight.
I prearranged to take off the Monday after with Lee, playing hooky together since we knew damn well that Marty wouldn’t let us take off the same day. It was also the same day Jason was returning from out of town, though he was headed straight into the office for meetings.
When Lee burst in the door with pizza and beer, I was stoked–not mopey, light years ahead of where I was a year earlier. Pajamas were our version of business casual for the day, and we assumed the position of camping out on the sofa in full veg mode.
The pizza was phenomenal and the beer cold, though our comedy-special selection needed serious work. I never understood man-bashing humor, and the chick lost me after the third straight bit about how men sucked.
We suffered through the second half of the latest hour-long snooze fest without a single laugh when my phone pinged, earning a hiss from Hank sitting beside it on the arm of the couch.
“Sorry, bud,” I muttered, petting his side gently as he stayed loafed in place.
“It's probably Marty wanting to know how to turn his computer on...” Lee joked, grabbing another slice of pizza.
“Or needing instructions on how to scan a document...” I shot back, grinning.
Lee cackled as I swiped the screen.
Jay: At lunch? Walked in, and didn't see you.
Oops. I forgot to clue him in on the plan.
Not in today. Playing hooky with Lee.
Jay: You're not supposed to tell me that.
You gonna fire me?
Jay: Maybe.
What if I lie to put your conscience at ease? We had bad sushi and can't stop vomiting on each other.
Jay: Sounds like one of Don's movies.
I giggled, earning a puzzled look from Lee, who was basking in her unicorn onesie, still munching on pizza.
“Jay?” she asked.
“Sorry, yeah.” I deleted the conversation as a precaution and locked my phone.
“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary,” she observed.
I shrugged, mimicking her and grabbing another slice. I already had two, but everyone knew calories didn’t count when celebrating.
And I was celebrating. I was beyond thankful I didn’t end up married to a slimy sleazeball with a goatee. He and his ugly loafers could fuck right off.
She narrowed her eyes at me, reading me to filth. “We all know you've had his canary in your mouth.”
I choked on cheese as I laughed.
She grinned, stretching tall, happy with herself. “Don't hate me because I'm right.“
I had no defense, so I stuffed another bite in my mouth, slice three well on its way to my thighs.
“Okay. I've been patient enough. When do I get to meet him?”
I shrugged again, chewing away.
“Is it getting serious?” she asked.
I held up a hand over my mouth as I chewed, the last bite a little too big to go down gracefully. “No, it’s too early for all that,” I replied.
The truth was, having him gone for two weeks was rough. It made January seem unbearable, but I forced the thought into the background. I would worry about that when the time came.
She frowned. “Have you had the exclusivity talk?”
“Kinda.”
“Kinda isn't a thing. It needs to be spelled out. I don't want my best friend infected with itchy burny cooter disease.”
I smirked. Now that was the perfect disease name to scare people out of having unprotected sex. “Is that a technical term?”
She scowled and took a long chug of beer, finishing her one and only of the day.
“Well, for one, we always use condoms.” Lie. He was more than happy when I told him I was on the pill and had been for years. “And two, I'm confident I'm the only one.” Semi-lie. I didn't really know that, but I was fairly certain. We spent too much time together for him to hide someone else.
“Why's that?” Lee asked, crossing her arms defiantly.
“I see him almost every day...” I trailed. Not a lie.
She perked up, her cheeks flashing red. “WHAT?!? And I still haven't met him?”
I ached to tell her, but couldn’t risk it. I would when I had a new job, and he was tucked away in Chicago. No one could prove or do a thing then, if she slipped.
“Look, I want to do this right this time.”
Lee stared at me intently before sighing. “Oh girl, you're in deep.”
Each word pierced the armor I erected. Something was there. I missed him and was more than ready to watch a crappy horror flick together while eating takeout. Next up was the Vietnamese place around the corner from his hotel, marked on a sticky I left on his fridge.
I shrugged sheepishly. “He’s a good time.”
He was so much more than that. He made me feel wanted and admired. Smart and funny. Attractive and desirable. They were feelings I hadn’t felt in so long.
Lee smiled, reaching out and squeezing my knee. “You deserve it, baby.”
And for once, I could admit to myself that I did. I’d been through hell, yet a year later, I was climbing back towards the top. Sure, I wasn’t in a meaningful relationship, but I moved on, and soon I’d be free of Croft too if I were lucky.
“I’m not beaver damming, am I?” she asked suddenly.
“What?”
Beaver damming?
“You know... the female equivalent of a cock block?”
I burst into giggles. “No!” I laughed. “He has a job, remember?”
“Maybe he wants some lunchtime nookie.”
“Yeah, no.”
Jason usually worked through lunch, eating carefully measured, fancy-schmancy delivery meals with organic this and steamed that. He was a creature of habit, rarely straying from his set macronutrient goal for the day. There was a reason he looked like sex on a stick.
Meanwhile, I ate almost half of a pizza to myself.
“You never know,” she teased.
“I know, but he’s a busy bee. He doesn’t have time to pollinate my flower at lunch.”
Lee hooted in delight. “Oh, good God!”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t!”
“You want him to pollinate you?”
“Uh, no. I have a great relationship with my birth control pill.”
I’d always wanted a little one, but with how things were going, I wasn’t convinced it’d happen for me. I was inching closer to thirty-three with no baby daddy prospects in sight.
“Oh, come on, El. You love kids. If he’s hot, he’ll make cute kids.”
“Not true,” I laughed, a few Hollywood examples flashing through my mind. “I like kids, but I’m having fun for now.”
“It’s a shame you can’t get a donation from Barrett. That man will make gorgeous kids.”
I popped the last bit of crust in my mouth to avoid having to answer. Not going there. He would make beautiful children if he ever had them. I doubted he would, however. Jason was a lot of things, but he was not a family man. He was married to his career — not a home life.
“I’d love to see his face if he was asked!” she cackled.
“He’d crucify me,” I replied, not at all a lie. That was one way to bring our rendezvous to a grinding halt. Oh hi, I wanna have your babies. Yeah, no.
“Have you been to Jay’s place? House? Apartment? Condo?”
I hated when she rattled off questions. It only led to more lies on the fly, guilt mounting with each new one thrown on the pile.
“An apartment,” I replied, racking my brain. “He’s not a fan of maintenance.”
“Amen,” she agreed. “We need a new furnace at our place. So much for old homes having charm.”
Lee and Jesse shared a beautiful Cape Cod south of the city, bursting with character and love. I always adored the little home on the hill, a navy blue dollhouse with a classic picket fence and flowerbeds of daffodils in the summer.
“They do,” I mused, dreaming of someday calling one my own.
As a child, I eyed the sprawling old houses when we headed into town, Dad assuring me anything could be mine with hard work. Sadly, I worked like a dog and only had a tiny apartment to show for it.
“They’re also a pain in the piggy bank,” she growled.
“So are canceled weddings!” I joked.
* * *
Lee headed home at four-thirty to beat traffic, leaving Hank and me to cuddle up a storm. With a belly full of pizza and beer, I drifted off, warm and tingly all over with sheer bliss.
A knock at my door startled me from my nap, Hank digging his claws in as he kicked off my stomach. “Seriously, dude?” I grumbled, rubbing an eye.
The television was still on, a news broadcast ticking across the screen. A thin sliver of sunset peeked through the vertical blinds, night approaching. I grabbed my phone and checked for messages, anticipating something from Jason about coming over, only to find nothing. Weird. He never came over without texting, but there was a first for everything.
No one other than Lee knocked, though sometimes a neighbor would to borrow something for a recipe.
I looked around for my bra, having discarded it after Lee left, spying it thrown on the polka-dot chair. “One minute!” I called, making my way over. The handle jingled, my visitor either impatient or misunderstanding what I said.
“I said, one minute!”
I tugged my bra on, needing at least its thin level of modesty. It was bad enough I was answering the door in a camisole and pajama shorts.
I hurried over and yanked the door open in irritation. I was met by a teenage delivery boy with a spectacular arrangement of red roses jutted forth.
“Elena Julian?” he asked.
“Yes?” I breathed, tugging my shorts down for a little more coverage.
“I have a delivery for you,” he declared, shoving the flowers my way, a small clipboard tucked under his arm. “Can you sign here?”
“Sure, do you have a pen?” I asked.
“Crap. I left it in the car.”
I suppressed an eye roll, turning to grab one from my secret stash in the kitchen. “Just a second.”
Unfortunately, owning a cat meant I had to hide all writing instruments. Along with hair ties, they were irresistible to Hank. If I weren't careful, they’d all end up batted around the apartment, and I’d get a noise complaint.
I grabbed a trusty black gel pen and headed back to the teenager, his cheeks blushing crimson. With a quick signature, the tremendous bouquet was mine, requiring both hands to carry.
Dang. Someone liked me.
Dad sent daisies and chocolates on the anniversary of my non-nuptials, so I knew they weren’t from him, and Lee hated flowers so they couldn’t be from her.
A part of me dared to think Jason sent them, but why? Was he starting to catch feelings too? It was as swoon-worthy as it was terrifying.
“Thank you!” I called over my shoulder, eager to read the card.
I’d have to move them to the bathroom to hang out with the daisies eventually; Hank also a fan of eating flowers. The cat was like a destructive toddler.
I fluffed them as I set them down on the kitchen counter; the display flattened from being held against the boy’s chest. The arrangement was huge, several dozen roses stuffed in the tall curved vase, a single card perched within, a heart looping my name.
I turned with a smile to go shut and lock the door, only to see the tail end of Hank. “Hank!” I called, stalking over to haul him back in the apartment. He rarely bothered with the door at the condo but was cantankerous since downsizing, his prime bird-watching window and room to run gone.
“Hank!” I repeated, the gray-haired monster disappearing into the corridor.
“Dammit!” I muttered, rushing after him. He couldn’t get far. The elevator was always out of service, and the staircase was at the end of the hall.
To my surprise, the little shit bolted, hauling ass down the hall and hanging a left towards the stairs. “Hank!” I squealed, praying no one was coming in or out below. If he got out, he was a goner.
The complex was by a major road, and Hank hadn’t been outside as an adult. He was a pudgy house cat used to treats and canned food, not the elements.
I sprinted after him, cutting the turn, toppling over my own two feet, shoulder hitting the wall. I thought I caught myself in the frenzy, avoiding disaster, but I hadn’t.
It all happened in a blur, gravity getting the upper hand as I toppled down the stairs. In the melee, I spun head over heel, striking my head against the metal railing with a thud.
I landed in a heap at the base of the stairs, the tile cold. There was a dripping warmth at my temple, a heavy metallic scent filling the air.
/> The last thing I saw was the flick of Hank’s tail as he slipped through the slightly ajar door leading to freedom.
Jason
Women and cell phones were an impossible match.
Men could call and call with no response and were expected to be cool with it, but if a woman called and he didn’t answer on ring one or two, he was accused of everything from cheating to running a criminal empire with a second family.
I called Elena twice the night before, and both times received the cold shoulder in the form of her cheery voicemail. Even playful texts went unanswered.
Either she settled in early for the night, or she let her phone die again. I swore the woman didn’t know what a phone charger was. How an adult could leave the house willingly with their phone on twenty percent was beyond me. Was she not concerned about needing a lifeline to the outside world in case of emergency?
Rather than spending the night pounding her, I pounded the pavement, running six miles to Cayuga Inlet and back. It felt great, but I’d rather be balls deep in a certain someone.
It gave me a chance to sort things out, to piece together how I would present my nightmare of a past to a woman who I wanted in my future. Not to mention, I had to figure out the logistics of dating a chick hundreds of miles away. I could always find her a job with my contacts, but deep down, I knew she’d never accept my help.
Stressing over it wasn’t helping matters, another nightmare terrorizing me in the early morning hours. It was so vivid a tumbler of Bowmore was the only thing that cleared the taste of sulfur and smoke. I laid in bed after watching cat videos, frisky felines stirring laughs and blocking out pain.
I headed into the office early, hoping to catch Elena before anyone came in. It was risky to chat in the open, but if no one was in, we were golden.
She wasn’t in her cube, so I retreated to my office, settling into call one of eight for the day. First up was a manufacturer for Corporate, a circuit board producer with a niche line that could be lucrative.
The call dragged on with no headway, the production manager of the plant less than impressive. He wasn’t willing to commit to anything. For a million-dollar stocking proposal, he could at least offer me something to chew on. Anyone would if they wanted the business.
