Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Olivia
Derek Tocher hasn’t changed at all since high school.
He’s still the same annoying know-it-all he was back then. The only difference now is that he wears semi-expensive suits and too much cheap cologne.
I try to shift my stool to the left to gain more distance from him before I pass out from the fumes.
The other two women we are with don’t seem to mind at all.
They’ve been laughing at his lame jokes and nodding in awe at every one of his stories about his success on Wall Street.
Unlike Derek, I do my homework.
I did it back in high school, and I do it now.
Derek Tocher is a junior broker with a small firm. He lives with his mom in Brooklyn and spends his extra time driving for Uber.
I should know. That’s where I reconnected with him six months ago.
He told me about his perfect life as he drove me home from a fundraising gala. I looked him up online the next day. Those facts didn’t lie, unlike Derek.
Derek recognized me as soon as I got in his mom’s car. Admittedly it took me a bit to place him.
I wasn’t popular in high school. He was. He was the all-star quarterback and the leading scorer with the cheerleaders.
I didn’t make the cheer squad, so I was never on his radar.
“I wish my husband was more like you, Derek.” Nancy, one of my former classmates swoons. “You’re so funny and attentive.”
I try not to roll my eyes.
“Should we get down to reunion business?” I flip open the cover of my tablet. “I made some notes since our last meeting.”
Everyone at the table laughs.
It’s the same reaction I get every time I come to one of these meetings.
Derek was the one who suggested we chair the committee for our tenth high school reunion. I was on board immediately because I’m all for meeting up with people I haven’t seen in ten years to show them that I’ve finally got my life together.
Unfortunately, no one at these meetings is in any hurry to nail down the details because the actual reunion isn’t for another year.
“You ladies will never believe who I met today.” Derek takes a sip of his over-priced whiskey sour.
I stare at my half-full glass of free water.
“Who?” Tiffany inches forward on her barstool.
We’re sitting in a barbecue restaurant in the middle of Times Square on a weekday afternoon. Tiffany’s husband is the manager. That’s the reason Derek is tossing back whiskey at warp speed. Everything is half-price for our party.
“Alexander Donato.”
My head snaps up.
Tiffany clucks her tongue. “That hot-as-hell conductor of the Philharmonic? His billboard is right over there.”
I glance out the plate glass windows in the direction she’s pointing. Ironically, I got my first look at it an hour ago when I was talking to Alexander. I spotted it over his shoulder.
It was a surreal moment.
The photograph on the billboard does not do the man justice.
“We talked to him.” Derek gestures in my direction.
“Do you know him, Olivia?” Tiffany asks excitedly.
“I do…” I hesitate, wondering if I should blow all of their minds by telling them that he’s my lover.
I wouldn’t be overstepping since it was Alexander who told me to introduce him that way to Cathleen last night.
Nancy leans her elbows on the bar. “I know someone who knows him.”
I sense a story coming on, so I settle back on the barstool to listen.
“Do tell.” Tiffany taps the bar. “Details, details.”
“She’s a friend of a friend. The night they met he took her home with him.”
My stomach drops. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.
“And?” Tiffany draws the word across her tongue. “Don’t stop there.”
Nancy looks around the almost deserted restaurant. “He fucked her all night. I’m talking every position, every inch of his apartment and from what she said, the man has a solid nine inches to work with.”
I bow my head.
“It went on for a couple of months. One night she showed up at his place to surprise him. He answered the door in his underwear. A naked woman came out of his bedroom looking for him.” She shakes a fist in the air. “He’s a cold-hearted bastard.”
“With a big dick,” Tiffany whispers.
Derek clears his throat. “Not to brag, ladies, but for comparison purposes, I’m packing more than Donato.”
Tiffany’s hand lands on his knee. “You must have had a growth spurt.”
“A growth spurt?” Derek questions her with a nervous chuckle.
“I was the head of the cheer team.” Tiffany laughs. “We fucked the night of senior prom, Derek. I know what you’re packing in your pants.”
Derek is up and gone in a flash.
The two women next to me laugh as he bolts down Broadway. I stare out at the billboard of Alexander, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.