One String (Lighter Ones)

Chapter 10

Marilyn

“Do not answer.”

I can’t get the note out of my head. I shouldn’t have answered his call to my office. I sure as hell shouldn’t have agreed to help him. Standing in front of my closet, I’m contemplating canceling tomorrow night’s dinner. Why should I care if he gets a job at Parker and Stevens? The longer I stare at my small stash of cocktail dresses, the more appealing the idea of canceling is to me. After all, if he gets the job, I’ll see him more often. Going to one dinner was about as masochistic as I get. Daily interactions would be too much.

Closing the closet door, I settle on my decision.

No cocktail dress.

No formal dinner at the Hotel Carmichael.

No more Ricky Dunn—ever.

The simple decision eases some of the throbbing in my temples.

In the bathroom, I turn on the water in my bathtub. The tub is one of my favorite features in my apartment. It’s deep, with claw feet, and perfect for soaking. At the vanity, I wash away the day’s makeup, noticing the puffiness around my eyes.

“No more,” I say to my reflection. “Never again.”

My reflection agrees, giving me a sturdy smile in response. Grabbing a hair tie, I secure my long hair on top of my head in a messy bun. Next, in the kitchen, I find a half-finished bottle of Moscato near the back of my refrigerator and pour a healthy glass.

Back in the bathroom, the air is warm and heavy with humidity from the hot water filling the tub. Setting the glass down on the table near the tub, I begin to shed my clothes. The boots came off as soon as I entered the door of my apartment. Now, the blouse, slacks, and my bra are littering the bathroom floor. I’m about to push down my underwear when the buzzer rings. It’s the buzzer for the intercom from the ground floor.

My thoughts immediately go to deliveries. While I contemplated a pity order to Uber Eats, I didn’t do it. Is there something I’m forgetting? If there is, I don’t want the delivery man to leave it on the stoop all night.

I turn off the running water, grab my robe from the hook, and tie the sash as I tread toward the front door and the intercom. “Hello?” I say into the box on the wall.

“Can I come up?”

I jump away from the box, startled by the voice coming through the speaker. Bravely moving forward, I press the button. “No. And you saved me a text message. I’m unable to attend the partner dinner tomorrow night. Don’t call. I won’t answer.”

“Marilyn, please?”

“Goodbye, Ricky. Good luck with whatever life has for you.”

“I brought you something.”

Shaking my head, I straighten my neck. “Leave it or take it. I don’t care.”

“It’s cold out here, but it could still melt.”

Melt?

Ricky speaks next. “I found caramel ice cream at Graeter’s. Thankfully, they’re open late.”

New tears prick my eyes. “Go to the dinner alone. Be honest with the partners.”

“I don’t care about the dinner. Please let me up. It’s freezing out here, especially holding a pint of ice cream.”

In place of answering, I push the button to unlock the main door. It’s at that moment that I realize I’m wearing a short satin robe that barely covers my ass. My boobs are free and not truly restrained by the small robe. And that doesn’t even take into account my messy bun and makeup-free face.

Well, fuck him.

Less than a minute later, there’s a knock on my door. A quick peek through the peephole confirms who is outside. From this view, I can’t tell if he really has caramel ice cream, but if he does, that’s great. I’ll eat it with my wine in the bathtub.

Unlocking the dead bolt, I pull open the door a few inches. My first instinct is to look for the ice cream. The pint is there in his bare hands. His coat is unzipped, and he’s still filling out the jeans and button-down shirt as well as he did earlier at the restaurant. The only thing missing from before is his smile.

“May I please come in?”

Keeping the door from opening farther with my foot, I extend my hand. “I’ll take the ice cream, and you can leave.”

With a forced grin, Ricky holds the pint out of my reach. His chocolate eyes scan from my bare feet to my messy bun, and his smile grows. “Damn, you’re hot.”

Taking a step back, I push the door closed. In the millisecond it took for me to move, Ricky has wedged his shoe between the door and the doorjamb.

“Marilyn, please let me explain.”

“Fine,” I say, releasing the door. “Explain and leave. I’m still not going to the partners’ dinner.” My instinct is to wrap my arms around my midsection to secure the robe.

Ricky steps into my apartment, his eyes wide as he looks all around the living room. “Whoa, this is a nice apartment.” He turns to meet my gaze. “You can shut the door, Marilyn. I won’t do anything stupid. I think I’ve already covered that base.”

I close the door but stand near it with my arms now crossed over my breasts and my lips pressed together. “Hurry,” I say. “I have a date waiting.”

It’s with my tub, wine, and now the ice cream, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Is that how you dress for your date?”

“No. I plan to be completely nude for the date, not that it’s any of your business.”

Ricky comes forward and hands me the ice cream. “It’s caramel macchiato. They didn’t have plain caramel. I’m sure it’s not as good as your grandma’s…”

I take the pint.

“I’ve never tried Graeter’s.”

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It has milk chocolate caramel truffles and Heath toffee pieces.”

“I don’t have any food allergies, but thanks for the ingredient list.”

Ricky’s cheeks rise. “There’s the smart mouth I’m used to.”

“Don’t be.” I motion between us. “There’s nothing to get used to between me and you.”

“I want you to believe me. I didn’t remember that I had your number.” When I don’t respond, he continues. “I sure as hell didn’t recall that note. If I did, would I have handed my phone off to you?”

“I don’t give a damn about the note. Here’s the news flash. You won’t need to answer, because I won’t be calling.”

Ricky nods. “I get it. And fuck the partners’ dinner. I meant what I said earlier in the evening. I had a great time with you. Don’t make that stupid note from years ago into something more than what it is.”

I lift my eyebrows. “What it is? It’s obviously your reminder to blow me off. Well, I never called you, Ricky. I never asked you for one damn thing. It was obvious that I meant nothing to you.”

“We said no strings. I didn’t lie to you.”

The ice cream is now sitting on a small table by my couch, and my arms are again crossed over my breasts. “Right,” I say with too much glee. “You didn’t lie to me. I didn’t call you. Everything is perfect.”

Ricky takes a step back, turns a circle, and faces me. “Nothing is perfect. I don’t care about the dinner tomorrow night. I don’t want you to be upset.”

“My mood has no bearing on you. Just leave. Try not to be an ass tomorrow night, and the dinner should go well.” I let my arms fall to my sides. “Please leave. My bath is getting cold.”

“Is that your date?”

“As a matter of fact, it is—a bath, a glass of wine, and now I have ice cream. I know how to have a good time.”

“I’d like to join you.”

My eyebrows shoot upward. “Oh, hell no. That’s not happening.”

He takes a step toward me. “I could show you how sorry I am.”

I refuse to acknowledge the way my nipples are hardening and my core is tightening, as I continue to stare him down. “Goodbye, Ricky Dunn, Rich, Richard, Dick, or whatever you’re calling yourself.”

He nods once. “Maybe after your date, you can consider forgiving me.”

Walking to the door, I open it. “Feel free to delete my contact information. I’ll delete yours.”

He stops inches away. “I’m not deleting your information.” His eyes sweep from my lips back to my eyes. “It’s taking every ounce of control not to kiss you right now.”

I shake my head.

“I’m not lying, Marilyn. I never have lied to you. I think life turned out the way we both wanted, the dreams we didn’t even know we had seven years ago. I didn’t know I wanted out of farming. You didn’t know you’d accomplish so much. I didn’t know that while I wasn’t watching, you became someone I find irresistible. Whether you’re smart-mouthing me or, one day, kissing me, I never knew you would be part of my dream.”

Swallowing, I step back. His shoulder brushes mine as he turns to leave.

As soon as he’s across the threshold, I close the door.

For a moment or two, I wait to see if he knocks. When he doesn’t, I walk away, taking the ice cream to the kitchen, grabbing a spoon, and making my way back to my bathtub.