by Kat Ransom
“I think I kind of like this, Lennox,” she calls from the loveseat.
“I bet you do,” I call back, splashing cold water over my face.
“You can be my sexual servant, my dick-on-demand!”
Staring at myself in the mirror, I don’t know how I’ve lost the upper hand here, but I sure as hell have. China cannot come soon enough, “I’ll give you dick on demand,” I mumble to myself.
Coming out of the bathroom I make my way to the phone by the bed and call room service. If my dick is going to be miserable tonight, at least my stomach can be happy. I order a burger and fries for Mallory, always a safe bet, and whatever kind of grilled chicken and vegetable dish the kitchen can concoct for me.
“Rather presumptuous of you to assume what I want to eat,” Mallory smirks as I return to the loveseat.
“Really? You’re going to complain?” I wave at her, her face still flush and her body slumped with contentment.
“Nope, no complaints. Just like to argue with you,” she smirks and pokes me in the side with her toe.
“Do not argue with me, Mallory. My balls cannot take anymore.” I find the television remote on the table between our cardboard boxes and click the TV on. “Get back to mailing,” I toss an envelope at her in jest.
“Yes, boss,” she teases and tries to run her foot up my side before I slap it away.
I will remember this. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she’ll pay for this. Never in my life has an evening with a woman ended with me refusing to fuck her. I’m the dominant one, I call the shots. The hell is happening to me?
What do you want to watch?” I ask her, scanning through channels.
“Any horror movies on?”
“Mmm, let’s see. You like scary movies?”
She nods. “The campier, the better. Halloween is my favorite holiday. What’s Halloween like in Scotland?” The mindless chitchat is a nice distraction from plotting all the things I’m going to do to her in China.
“Well, there was no trick-or-treating when I was a kid, I was so jealous of you Americans for that. But some of the towns would have a giant bonfire and we’d still dress up. Mum would find the biggest turnips she could for us to carve.”
“You carve turnips?”
“Aye. Put a little candle in them and set them about to keep the spirits away.”
“That sounds fun.”
I find some old horror movie on tv, the only one I can find in English, and Mallory goes back to ripping envelopes open and telling me who to make autographs out to.
“There’s a tradition, too. Two lovers would put nuts into the bonfire. If the nuts burned quietly, they’d be happy forever. If the nuts crackled or broke open, the couple would be doomed.”
“Maybe we should put some nuts in a fire and see what happens,” she jokes.
“Love, no offense, but I don’t want my nuts anywhere near you and a fire.”
Mallory clutches her chest and feigns shock, “You don’t trust me?”
“No,” I laugh, “do you trust me?”
“Absolutely not!” She shakes her head and giggles.
“Well, there you go, then. I had a Nessie costume one year.”
“You did not!”
“Aye, I did.”
“I need pictures of this.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Can we do a piece on your life back home sometime?” Mallory asks, handing me a tee-shirt to sign.
“No.”
“Oh, come on, the fans would love it!”
“No.”
“Ugh, you’re such a grump.” She takes the shirt back from me and hands me a hat to sign next. “Wait,” she says. “Put this shirt and the hat on!”
Mallory and I go through every piece of fan mail and she takes photos of me wearing the hats, holding the trinkets, reading the letters people have sent in. She scarfs her burger when it arrives and I steal her french fries. When the movie ends, she’s curled up fast asleep on the loveseat.
If everyone crying “Paddock Playboy” saw me now.
Thirteen
“I’d love to be the one to disappoint you when I don’t fall down.” - Limp Bizkit - Re-Arranged
Mallory
I’m angry.
I thought I would be nervous meeting David, breaking things off with him, but I’m livid as I finish my makeup and prepare to head out the door of Aria’s apartment - my old apartment.
I’ve been back in New York for over a week and he hasn’t returned a single call or text until today. I even went to his condo and beat on the door like a crazy person, but no answer. It wasn’t until I texted him threatening to show up at Dad’s office that he agreed to meet me at the Bean n’ Brew. A public place was my idea so there is no chance of drama, but now I’m doubly glad, so I don’t murder him.
“He is a pussy!” I complain to Aria, who’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub as I coat my lashes in gravity-defying mascara. I’m going to look my best while I dump his sorry ass. “Two years together and I can’t even get a response to meet him while I’m in town!”
“He probably knows what’s coming so he’s hiding.” Aria nods.
Chasing David down aside, Aria and I have had the ultimate girl’s week. We camped out with PJ’s and sheet masks in the living room while binging on the new 90210 remake. I treated her to a Thai massage and she insisted we book a waxing session after I filled her in on the change of dynamics between Lennox and me.
She was not surprised.
Lennox is right that the lust between us is inevitable, the stupid sexy asshole. There is no way I can continue kidding myself for the next seven months. I just need to be smart about it. He isn’t relationship material and I know that going into it. My heart is safe, I just need to keep my job safe so we’ll need to negotiate the logistics.
‘Negotiate better,’ he said.
The thought of sneaking around in hotel rooms late at night is also kind of hot if I’m being honest.
I think he’s on board with this plan, too. He woke me up in Bahrain after I fell asleep on the loveseat and walked me across the hall to my room to go to bed so no one would see me leaving his room in the morning. He doesn’t want anyone to know about me, and I can’t have Celeritas learn that I’m sleeping with the client I’m supposed to be fixing the media’s perception of. I was happy to avoid the walk of shame that otherwise would have occurred the next morning.
“Ok, how do I look?” I ask Aria, who’s scrolling through all of my photos on my phone. They’re 99% Lennox and 1% scenery of the foreign countries that I pass through but don’t get time to explore.
“You look like a woman who should be fucking this sex god,” she holds up my phone showing a photo of Lennox peeling off a sweaty race suit, “not David the douche.”
“I’m not fucking him.” I correct her.
“Yet.”
“Yet,” I smile and agree.
“Oooo, who is this?” Aria asks and rotates the phone. It’s a great photo of Lennox and Matty laughing in the garage in Australia.
“That’s Mattias, Matty. The physio.”
“Good lord, are they all this hot?”
“Yes, do you see now how powerless I am to resist this? They’re a walking, talking trifecta of Big Dick Energy. All swaggering and smelling good all the time. Ridiculous.”
“And this one?” Aria asks, showing me another photo.
“That’s Jack. He’s funny and sweet and gay, so don’t get any ideas. How some lucky man hasn’t snatched him up yet I don’t understand.” I suspect Jack has been seeing someone in the paddock, actually, but he’s going to have to keep my secrets, too, so I haven’t pressed for info. He, Matty, and Lennox tell each other everything but there’s no way they would betray Lennox and tell anyone about us. I still think the world would love how loyal Lennox is to his friends, but oh well.
“Ugh, shame for womankind. Tell me more about the blond.” Aria taps my phone.
“He’s Finnish and super
blunt and stoic. It comes off as rude a lot. I’m not actually convinced he isn’t just rude yet. I don’t think you would like him.”
“I don’t need him to talk,” Aria jokes.
“He said personal training is not a real thing and all you do is give aerial yoga lessons to bored housewives.”
“What!” She huffs then goes back to examining the photo, “I’d still do him.”
“Ok, I’m out of here. Wish me luck.”
“That weasel never deserved you, stay strong. Celebratory drinks tonight, right?”
“You know it,” I nod back. It’s Friday in NYC and we have catching up to do.
◆◆◆
The Bean n’ Brew is bustling as the lunch rush begins, busy New Yorkers line up for their noon caffeine break or grab takeout before hopping into the nearby subway station. It’s not far from the Mitchell Media offices so David used to meet me here for lunch like back in the days when we paid attention to one another and made an effort.
Those days are long past, on both our ends.
Moving past the crowd at the counter, I spot David at a table tucked into the back corner. Good move, David, you do know what’s coming, don’t you? His laptop is in front of him and he’s typing so furiously he doesn’t notice me until I’m standing next to him.
“David,” I stay standing and expect him to rise and greet me. He doesn’t.
“Hey, Mallory, what’s up?” He can barely look away from his laptop as I sit down opposite him.
“‘What’s up?’” I mock his blasé tone, “I haven’t seen you in a month, you don’t return my calls, and that’s what you have to say?”
David purses his lips and huffs at me, “What would you like me to say, Mallory?”
He’s right, I don’t know why I expected anything else. It’s not worth arguing about. Arguing with David is not fun, like arguing with Lennox is, but I shut those thoughts down. That is not why I’m here. “You’re right, there’s not much left to say. I did want to come home and say this to you in person, though.”
“Say what?” His eyes are darting between me and his laptop screen. He could not be less interested.
“David, I flew all the way here. Can you please look at me?”
He lets out an audible huff and looks at me like I’m a petulant child, a waste of his time. “Go on then,” he waves at me and stares sarcastically.
“Wow,” I mumble and rub my temples. He’s making it so easy to break up with him, to see so clearly right now. What the hell was I thinking the past two years? “Things haven’t been good between us for a long time, David. Out of decency, I wanted to come home and tell you in person that you and I are done, officially.”
His eyebrows shoot up and he laughs, “Yeah, ok, Mallory. Stop being so juvenile. I don’t have time for this.”
“Juvenile? I’m trying to be an adult here. I don’t want any hard feelings or a fight, I just needed to…”
“Could you be more selfish right now?” He snaps. “I am in the middle of a board crisis, our stocks are down, and those plebeians at Cooper Media are making our lives hell!”
I don’t know anything about a board crisis or our stocks, but that’s because I have never involved myself in Dad’s precious dinosaur business of print media and I’ve barely spoken to Mom and Dad since leaving New York. All I’ve gotten are snarky texts with vaguely racist comments about the countries I’m visiting or demanding I stop embarrassing and them and come home.
One of Dad’s associates had seen me on TV standing behind Lennox during a post-race interview, and he let me know how ‘ashamed’ he was that a colleague saw me ‘associating with such a hooligan.’ I told him said hooligan was a world champion and, just because this is what Robert Mitchell really cares about, that his net worth is several times over his. That said hooligan should be embarrassed to be seen with a Mitchell if anything. That was the last text he sent me. Mom knows I’m home and I’ve met Cody for lunch, but Dad and I may be irreparably broken.
As are David and me.
“Right,” I draw out the word in response to David’s tantrum. “Ok then, well good luck with that. Good luck to you, David. I wish you nothing but the best.” I kind of wish him a raging case of crabs and a receding hairline, but I bite my tongue. It isn’t worth it.
“Wait, what are you doing?” David tugs my arm as I stand to leave, pulling me back into my chair.
“Umm, I’m leaving now.”
“You aren’t serious?” His face is shocked as if he’s not heard a word I’ve said.
“I’m dead serious, we’re over, David. I need to go now.”
“Wait, this is all just a big misunderstanding.” His voice is low and he reaches for my hand over the table, which I pull away from him and put in my lap.
“No, there’s no misunderstanding. Definitely breaking up with you.” This is getting weird and I’m glad we’re in a public space, after all.
“Mallory, the only reason I’ve been distant is because your father told me to cut you off, to push you away!”
“What?” I seethe, my face twisted in disgust and shock.
“He said it would get you to stop this nonsense and come home!”
“Oh, did he?”
“Yeah, you and me, Mallory, we’re fine!”
I shake my head at him, a mixture of anger toward my father and pity for this shell of a man before me turning my stomach. “And you just went along with it, Daddy’s little puppet.”
“What choice did I have, be reasonable.”
“You could have, I don’t know, acted like a man and stood up for me,” I wave my hands at him, my voice rising and drawing the attention of people at the end of the counter waiting for their order. “You could have supported my dreams and been proud of me.”
“Keep your voice down,” he scolds.
“Why? Afraid the people around us might learn what spineless weasel you really are?” A woman behind me adds a loud mmm hmmm and when I turn to look at her she nods at me and gives David a wicked stink eye.
“You’re making a huge mistake. Your parents will never allow this.”
“My mistake was wasting two years with you. Fortunately, those days are over and Robert and Lydia Mitchell may have castrated you, but I’m a grown woman and I don’t answer to them.” A second woman behind me utters yeah in support.
I stand up, put my shoulders back, tell David to have a nice life and to never contact me again. The two eavesdroppers behind me give me fist bumps on the way out and I stroll out of the Bean n’ Brew feeling like a weight has been lifted. I deserve far better. No more settling, ever again. I know what I want and I’m going to take it.
Weaving in between the commuters on the crowded sidewalks on my walk home, I text Aria and tell her the deed is done. She sends back a gif of Rachel from friends screaming, “Finally!”
Hell with it, I’m on a mission and I’m going to tell Lenox, too. I don’t know what time it is in London, but he won’t care.
Mallory: I got rid of him. You were right, total pussy.
Lennox: I’m glad you admit I’m always right.
Mallory: Definitely not what I said…
Lennox: Whatever. The only pussy I want to hear about now is yours.
Mallory: lolololololol
Lennox: See you soon, payback is a bitch.
Mallory: China’s days away yet. You’ll have to keep suffering, big boy.
Lennox: China? Have you not checked your email?
Mallory: Not much, I’m scheduled to be off. ??
Lennox: I don’t ‘lol’ but I am laughing now.
I pause in the middle of the sidewalk trying to decipher the cryptic message from Lennox but get elbowed and bumped for impeding the flow of human traffic. I pop my phone into my pocket but it rings before I can put it away. “Mom” flashes on the screen. Wow, that took all of ten minutes.
“Yes, mother?” I answer the phone and step to the side of a building to avoid being trampled.
“What have
you done?” She yells in my ear loud enough to hear her clearly over the taxi horns and cars idling past.
“I’m assuming David ran straight to you to tattle?”
“Your father is beside himself, Mallory!”
“Too bad for Dad it’s none of his business who I’m sleeping with.”
“Mallory! Don’t be so crass!” She whispers as if anyone else can hear me. Wouldn’t want to tarnish Mom’s image anymore, embarrassment to the family that I am.
“Gotta go, Mom.”
“Wait, Mallory, we can fix this!” She begs.
“Bye, Mom.”
I disconnect and throw my phone into my pocket. Merging back into the crowd, I power walk my way back to my old apartment. I need to check my work email and see what game Lennox is up to now, and then Aria and I are going out on the town. I’m a new woman and I’m done taking orders unless they’re the sexy variety from my bossy boss. The thought makes me smile and carries me the rest of the way home.
Ms. Mitchell,
I apologize for the urgency during your time off but a sponsor opportunity has arisen and the timing is exceptional given your location at present. Friday evening there is a charity gala in New York City sponsored by UG Petroleum. Mr. Gibbes’ presence has been requested and you will need to accompany him. Mr. Gibbes was uncharacteristically cooperative and is leaving London imminently. Whatever you are doing, Celeritas acknowledges your success to date and your confirmation of attendance will not go unrecognized by the Board.
Dress is black tie. Please see the attached details and coordinate your arrival with Mr. Gibbes.
Best,
Sandra Alix
Director of Marketing and Communications
Celeritas Racing
“No, no, no!” I scream at the laptop on the tiny kitchen counter in our NY apartment.
Aria comes racing into the room as I gape in horror at the email, “What? Did you get fired?”
“No, but I’m going to be if I don’t get to a gala in,” I check the time, “three hours! Oh my god, Aria! It’s black tie, I don’t have gown or shoes or… anything!”
