Chapter 7 #2
A giant smile is splattered across my face as I get into my car, I pull the mirror down to see how I look, my hair is wild, my mascara is smudged and I’m wearing a perverted glow.
I laugh out loud. “Who even are you?”
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz…my phone vibrates in my bag, I dig it out.
Dante - 6 missed calls
Ugh. “Hello.”
“Where are you?”
“I went out for a little.”
“I can see that. You’re in the Range Rover?”
“Obviously.”
“Why didn’t you call for me?” he barks.
“Because I wanted to come alone,” I fire back. “Watch your tone, Dante. This may come as a surprise to you but I am entitled to privacy.”
“We discussed this, as your bodyguard I am to know where you are at all times.”
“Well I’m out,” I snap. “I’m coming home now and if I need your services I will call for you, until then do not call me with attitude if I dare step out alone. I will not be a prisoner in my own life.”
“Madis—”
I hang up on him midsentence.
Infuriating.
Just because he’s with me all the time doesn’t mean he gets to tell me what to do, I stuff my phone back into my purse. Glancing back at my reflection in the mirror, I smirk at my wild appearance and try to smooth the knots in my hair.
Hands down, best massage of my life.
ANDREW
I walk up the front steps with a spring in my step. “I’m home,” I call as I walk through the front door.
“Daddy!” Birdy cries as she runs toward me and dives into my arms. Sally and Kaia are sitting on the couch reading a book together.
“Hey,” Sally replies.
“Sorry I’m late.” I open the fridge and peer in. “I know you’re going out, I tried to be as quick as I could.”
Literally…. Wanted to devour her for another six hours if I could have.
“I’m not going out anymore,” she replies dryly.
“You’re not?” I glance over to her; she was so excited about this date.
“He canceled.”
Seriously?
“The fuck is wrong with these guys?” I mutter under my breath. “Who cares anyway?” I turn my attention back to the contents of the refrigerator. “His loss.”
“I just don’t get it.” She comes into the kitchen and pulls up a stool to the bench. “They seem so keen and then it comes to the crunch and can’t be bothered. Even going on a date is too much effort for men these days.”
“Don’t take it personally.” I stir the casserole I put on the stove this morning. “They’re just cowards.”
“Cowards?” She frowns. “Not in the least, they just don’t like me.”
“This has nothing to do with you. Men are so terrified of everything these days that the thought of rejection and what it might do to their tiny fragile egos is too much. Date a real fucking man, one who puts in effort and isn’t scared of his own shadow.”
“Ugh.” She slumps her head onto the kitchen counter. “You’re a dying breed, Andrew. They don’t make men like you anymore.”
“Yes they do, you just got to find them.”
I pour us both a glass of wine and place hers on the counter beside her. “In other news, we’re celebrating.”
“We are?” She frowns as she lifts her head. “What are we celebrating?”
“I just had the best massage of my life.”
Her eyes widen. “Did she call you for an appointment?”
“Nope.” I smile, all proud of myself. “She came into work.”
“She did? Oh my god,” she gasps. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say….” I raise my eyebrow. “We are back in the ball game.”
“You didn’t?” she whispers, wide eyed.
“Oh.” I take a sip and hold my wineglass up to her in a cheers symbol. “But I did.”
MADISON
The café is busy and bustling and in walks a man in his sixties with a much younger woman.
Breanna curls her lip as she watches them walk past us and up to the counter. “Gross.”
“What is?” I act like I don’t have a clue to what she’s talking about, but I already know.
“How do they hold their heads up?” Her eyebrows flick up in disgust. “Aren’t they embarrassed?”
I glance over to the couple who are now holding hands as they make their way to a table. He’s around fifty, and not in the hot kind of way, and the woman he’s with is a complete knockout, blond and beautiful, wearing a tight fitted dress and sky-high stilettos, I’m assuming she’s around thirty.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“The gold-digging is shameless.”
I feel my face begin to flush; this topic is a little too close to home at the moment.
“You don’t know them,” I reply.
“But everyone else does, it’s clear as day that she’s only with him for money and yet, he can’t resist temptation, kids himself that she loves him for him.
Please…give me a break.” She sips her coffee as she watches them.
“You don’t chase someone out of your age bracket and pay grade unless you want something. ”
“Maybe they are in love.” I shrug as I sip my coffee.
“Come off it, look at him.”
I eye him over and I know for a fact that if Andrew and I were sitting together over at that table this exact conversation would be going on about us. The young hot masseur and the old spinster CEO of a billion-dollar company. What would a man like him possibly ever want with a woman like me?
“Who gives a fuck anyway?” I mutter. “Stop judging people. Maybe you’re just jealous you haven’t met your Daddy Warbucks yet?”
“Maybe.” She bats her eyelids. “Maybe I should join Sugar Daddy dot com.”
“And right here—” he points to the screen with his pencil, “—is why we need an alternative.” Lauren says.
My phone lights up as it sits beside me on the boardroom table and I glance over at it.
Andrew
I drag my attention back to Lauren and her presentation.
It lights up again and I narrow my eyes, trying my hardest to stay focused.
“Did anyone notice a pattern in the latest….” Her voice continues and I subtly pick up my phone and put it down onto my lap and tap open the message.
Why did the fox cross the road?
Huh?
What does that mean?
I click out of it and put my phone back onto the table face down, the boardroom meeting goes on and on and on…but all I can think about is Andrew and his cryptic message. Ugh, this meeting needs to hurry up and end already.
Fifteen minutes later, curiosity is about to kill me and I discreetly pick up my phone and type the reply.
***
Acting calm and collected, I glance around the table as I wait for his reply.
My phone lights up again and I have to fight myself to not snatch it up and leave the room.
To go to the massage parlor
And ruin the masseur for life.
A trace of a smile crosses my face before I collect myself and put my phone back on the table face down. I pick up my coffee and take a sip to hide my smirk.
Stop it.
I smile at the thought but in the distance like an echo, I can hear an alarm ringing.
It’s faint but there nonetheless, kind of like a fire alarm warning me of impending danger, and even though I know I won’t let it happen, I can’t fight the gnawing feeling that the masseur across the road is about to ruin that fox…
. And if she had any sense she would run as fast and as far away as she possibly can.
DAY THREE
9:10 A.M.
The screen lights up, my stomach somersaults, and once again my train of thought is lost. As far as he knows I’m supposed to be away on a work trip and even though I told him I would contact him when I got home, things have taken a strange turn.
I’ve come to the conclusion that this has to be the weirdest situationship of all time.
I’ve never met anyone like this man, he is in a league of his own…
. Either that or on his own planet. He’s not trying to be cool or suave, in fact I’m not even sure what I would call this.
Andrew hasn’t called me, and I haven’t called him. But he sends me these odd texts…. That somehow have me hanging on their every word.
How do you kill a circus?
I read it and read it again, how do you kill a circus? What the hell does that mean?
Eventually I reply,
***
I wait for the screen to flash again
You go for the juggler.
I smile and put my phone into my drawer, I have to focus, damn it. How can stupid cheesy jokes make my entire day?
Get a grip.
DAY FOUR
“Here you are, enjoy.” The waitress puts the grilled fish and salad down in front of me. “Thank you.” I smile. The round table for ten is a sea of chatter, celebrative networking with an excitement to mingle.
I sit amongst them but I feel totally alone. Lost somewhere in between worlds.
My physical body is here in the present moment, my mind and memories are back with him.
Like a virus, I can feel him entering my bloodstream. With every simple joke, he steals a little more of me.
My phone lights up and I close my eyes, don’t read it.
The loss of control I now have is a concern, while my phone is still alight, I can’t click his message open soon enough.
My dear Mabel
I dreamed of you last night.
I felt your kiss and it kept me warm.
Tell me you missed me too.
Oh….
My heart constricts in my chest.
I did dream of him; I dream of him every night, and if the truth be known it’s taking all my strength not to go to him.
To run.
But I won’t, because nothing good can come of this, I already know where it’s headed. We are not compatible; we come from different worlds, he’s too young, he’s everything I don’t need…so why is he all I can think about?
“Miss,” a voice insists.
“Huh?”
I glance up to see a waitress holding out a bread basket. “Would you like a bread roll?”
“I’m sorry, I was miles away,” I apologize as I sheepishly take a bread roll, I glance around to see if anyone noticed.
But of course nobody did because they are all living in the moment, having real conversations in real time…
and I’m here, on the precipice of a secret.
Lost somewhere between worlds while experiencing a deep sense of déjà vu.
I don’t know him at all, so why does it feel like I do?
DAY 6
I read the word and my heart catches in my throat.
Tomorrow.
One word.
It takes one word from him to bring me more emotion than anyone has in a long time.
Why does my heart believe every word he says?
Every stupid joke, every kind word, every promise of affection.
My mind rehashes through my past, searching for a time when another man has made me feel like this.
Has anyone ever affected me so?
I can’t text back; I can’t let myself go there and do this. I already have an unhealthy obsession with this man. I can’t see him tomorrow, being this needy is not who I am.
I’ll cancel our date tomorrow night later…tonight, when I have the time to think about my reply, and I can end this stupid fixation once and for all.
10 P.M.
Yes it’s true, I could cancel.
But why…. When the masochist in me wants one more night.
One night and then I’ll say goodbye. Forever.
I text him.
My place, 7 p.m.