Chapter 28
Maria
Hi Maria!
I don’t know if you remember me but we were at St George Beauty Academy together! How are you? I found your page when I was scrolling through online and stumbled on Mila Mills’ photos. I was like: “I know that girl!” You did such beautiful work on her, I’m so happy for you. I had a look at your website and your salon is gorgeous! I knew you’d be a success. I’m up in New York now, do you come here often? If you’re ever in town, let’s meet up! Would love to have a catch up with you. I’ve attached my details x Gena
I re-read the email as a slow smile spread. Of course I remembered Gena. She was from the next county over and we met on our first day of beauty school. We’d partnered up a few times, styling each other's hair and trying make-up trends. She had me to thank for her cherry red hair, which she still maintained today. Gena was a natural blonde, so when I made an off-hand comment about how her coloring would suit red hair, she begged me to be the one to color her locks.
The school had been about an hour and a half drive for me; no easy feat with a car that died more than it started. But even if I had to beg, borrow, or start walking at 5 AM to catch public transport, I made it to each class; rain or shine. There were beauty schools closer to me, but St George's was the best in the area and highly rated. It also didn't hurt that the salon I was apprenticing in at the time supported a good chunk of my fees.
Gena moved to New York soon after graduating, while I chose to stay behind to take a Special FX Make-up and Prosthetic course just because I wanted to see how far my talents could take me. Not as far as Gena, it turned out. She started teaching at a highly regarded hair and make-up academy in New York. The last I saw, she’d worked hair and make-up on a sleeper Indie movie that had swept international awards.
Our seminar was coming up soon, so it was the perfect opportunity to meet up with her. I quickly replied, eager to lock her in before she had a change of heart. I knew Gena had likely forgotten about little old me while her light shone in New York, and I only came into her orbit when she spied my name attached to a well-known celebrity; but I wasn't too proud to accept her offer. I wanted to pick her brain.
I sat back with a satisfied sigh, and my eye fell on a line in her email: " I knew you'd be a success."
All my life, I drilled it into myself that having a romantic partner who adored me was the ultimate pinnacle of success. If I could find a guy who loved me despite my flaws; who was faithful; who didn't just see me as a sex toy; who genuinely wanted to spend time with me and could see their forever with me, well then I’d hit the jackpot. That was all I needed in life to consider myself a success.
The fact I had worked my ass off on my own to open my business, and make it profitable was something I’d dismissed. If I could go back to old me and slap her upside the head, I would.
I opened our appointment log and noted the influx of bookings we’d received—thanks to Mila Mills' little post. We had brand inquiries, and our social media page was on the verge of becoming monetized. I wanted to be smart with our money, so I was taking my time on the offers, but I also knew that if I didn't catch this wave now, it could flatten at any moment.
My main priority was to take care of my team; making sure they were paid and charging clients adequately based on their level of service and experience. I was also looking to support our junior members in order for them to gain as much knowledge and experience as possible, both in studies and on-the-job practice. The best way to keep your employees loyal to you was to treat them well and not gatekeep.
As it stood, we were booked out solid for at least three months. Our social media page had grown to 10K and climbing; which was unbelievable to us. Mila Mills helped, of course. But one of our style videos where I consulted a girl who wanted her long, straight hair permed with a layered bob somehow ended up on the randomized algorithm. Our viewership and followers skyrocketed from there.
Stretching widely, I finally shut down my computer and started to pack up. Even though my romantic love life was on an extended hiatus right now, I was pretty upbeat about my personal relationships. I had a session with Dr. Anna yesterday. It was now getting to the stage where I enjoyed meeting with her. With Dr. Anna's professional approval, I moved my appointments to every two weeks, which I saw as a success.
I’d grown so much. I knew my worth. I had no problem using my voice against other people—at times lacking decorum; a habit I was attempting to soften—but I also felt comfortable using my voice against men who used and discarded me.
An old fling reached out recently, making small talk; which I knew would segue into asking me for a booty call. He wouldn't call it that, of course. He always appeared like he genuinely wanted to catch up. And I fell for it every time. Not this time, though. Once he got over his frustration that I wasn't picking up what he was putting down, he changed his tactic to coaxing seduction. I blocked him. And I felt damn good about it.
I was also coming to peace with what happened with my mom. There was a little compassion in regard to her addiction. She’d clearly gone through a traumatic experience of having her husband leave and her nice, suburban life blown to pieces. Once addiction held you in its grasp, it was hard to pry yourself out; especially when you had zero support and were surrounded by enablers.
But I still couldn't forgive her or my father for allowing me to be collateral damage. I couldn't envision myself as a mother, but the thought of a helpless child being cast aside, forgotten, and abused…it would not have happened on my watch. I was proud that I was breaking the generational trauma by not continuing to fall into the trap my mom did when my father left.
Instead, I concentrated on things I could control—my career and the friendships that I was cultivating. For the first time since I was fourteen, a male was at the bottom of things I needed in my life. Did I miss sex and intimacy? Of course. But I couldn't force that, and it wasn't my priority right now. Plus, I had a drawer full of toys.
After hopping over to the bookstore across the road to pick up the latest Karin Slaughter novel, I finally trudged home with a bag of Thai take-out under my arm. I was looking forward to crashing on my couch with a glass of wine, my take-out, and probably watching My Cousin Vinny for the fortieth time.
My mind was already in relaxation mode by the time I reached my apartment; so when the door down the hall opened, and Simon stepped out into the hall, I was so surprised I froze. He was holding a trash bag, and I would've laughed at his comical double-take if I hadn't been so tense at seeing him. All thoughts of relaxing promptly tumbled out of my body.
I hadn't seen Simon or his fiance, Sofia, much. I figured they were spending all their time at his place in Helensville. I used to get anxious every time I came home, wondering if I would run into them. I was happy that my apartment was again my sanctuary and safe space, when it hadn’t been for so long. Gone were the days I would rush through the door, avoiding eye contact with anyone passing by. Progress.
"Ah…hey, Maria."
"Simon." I shifted my bags from one arm to the other in order to fetch my keys.
"Here, let me." He dropped his trash bag and rushed forward, taking my bags off my hands before I could say a word. His behavior surprised me. I would've bet my bottom dollar that Simon would be eager to scatter away by now.
Our hands brushed when I handed him my take-out bag, and I almost flinched at the contact, wondering if…
No spark. The air deflated out of me in relief.
No denying it, Simon was gorgeous. He still had the same build that he spent hours maintaining in the gym. He also had the same boyish, charming smile that could melt the panties off any straight woman. I couldn't fault his performance in bed; he was no selfish lover. But I realized that after knowing him on and off since I was seventeen, I didn't know him.
I was surprised that his relationship with Sofia lasted and that they were now engaged. I'd always pictured Simon dragging out his bachelor status until he became that creepy, old playboy who tried to fuck girls less than half his age. He'd obviously met the right girl for him.
I used to wistfully wonder in moments of weakness: "Why not me?" But I had to remind myself that it wouldn't matter if Simon or any other man wanted more from me; my past trauma would have held me back from forming healthy relationships. I hadn't been able to regulate my emotions, and sex was used as a bandage to fix something that had deeper cracks.
Plus, Simon had been an ass. Two things could be true.
The silence between us stretched on as I fumbled to unlock the door. I wished he’d just hightailed it the other way.
"Hey, listen." Simon's voice stalled before his throat cleared. "Have you spoken to Brian recently?"
I almost dropped my keys in shock. "Brian? How the hell do you know him?"
He watched me open my door with a shaky hand; his face pinched in hesitancy. "Long story," he finally responded, shrugging in apology. "I'll let him tell you that if you want to know."
I raised my brow at that reticent reply. He didn't need to know that the likelihood of Brian and I speaking again was minus zero.
"He may have gotten the wrong impression of me when I last saw him."
I crossed my arms, keeping my shoulder propped against the door. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"Fuck. So you haven't seen him." He raked his hand through his hair. "Me and my big mouth. Sofia keeps telling me that I gossip like an episode of Sex and The City, but I can't help it if sometimes –"
"Simon," I firmly cut in. This encounter was weird enough without his rambling. Plus, my Thai food was getting cold. I held my hand out for my food and book bag. "Tell me what happened."
"Right. Fuck." He handed me my take-out bag. "Smells good," he commented.
"Simon," I warned.
"Okay, okay. So Brian came to Eden's mom's engagement party the other night," he started.
"How did he –" I shook my head. Not the time for details. "Never mind."
"So, Mila Mills was there. She mentioned that you did her hair and make-up. Great job, by the way, I heard your business exploded."
"Simon." God, the more he talked, the more I realized how annoying he was. Thank god he’d been good in bed.
"Okay, so somehow it was brought up that you and I…you know." He rolled his hand, glancing at me to fill in the blanks. I glared back. He can wallow in his clumsiness.
His eyes dropped from mine. "Anyway, I told him that I was, you know, an ass to you, and he got…upset." His sentence came out in a mumbled rush that it took a while to penetrate my slacked mind.
"Upset?"
"Okay, he was pissed." He spread his hands in pleading emphasis, an apologetic flush spreading on his face.
My mind could only focus on one thing. A red-hot fury lanced through me. He was pissed? First Logan and now Simon. Was Brian really that much of a pig-headed sexist that he felt the need to shame me for my sexual past? I was well to be rid of him.
"Are you okay?" He eyed me warily as I breathed deeply through my rage.
"He was pissed?" I ground out. "At me?"
His head jerked back. "What? No! At me." He pointed at himself. "I didn't give him many details, but what I did reveal, he laid into me—defended your honor. Granted, he’d been drinking, so his emotions were a little raw," he muttered. "I can understand where he's coming from, though, because if some dickhead was an ass to Sofia, I would wring their neck so fast –"
I held my hand up before he could go off on another tangent. "Brian was pissed off—at you —for how you treated me ?" What the hell was going on? My jumbled head was still untangling that Brian knew my ex-hook-up, and now I was further confounded by Brian possibly defending me.
"I'm telling you, Maria, he was ready to throw hands. I honestly didn't know you two were dating."
I didn't bother correcting him on his assumption. It wasn't any of his business, although I was curious about how he came to this belief.
I nodded and moved away from my door to close it. "Okay, thank you for telling me. Have a good evening."
"Wait. Maria, wait."
I turned back to him, bracing myself for what else he had to reveal. I couldn't take any more bomb drops.
His hands were deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me again, but seeing how pissed Brian was reminded me how much of a douche I was to you. I treated you like –"
"A piece of ass."
His mouth dropped open, and I shrugged a shoulder at his stupefied expression. "It's fine. That's what I was to you. But that's also how I let you treat me.”
His expression softened. "You know, when I apologized to you, I did mean it. But it was Sofia who encouraged me to do it." At my raised brow, he threw his hands up in a defensive gesture. "I meant every word of my apology. I knew you were owed one. But I never really considered deeply what I put you through. I am sorry. Really fucking sorry. Falling in love –" he stopped, flicking me an uneasy look.
"It's okay, Simon, I don't have feelings for you anymore," I drolly replied.
"Well, meeting Sof put a lot of things into perspective. If we ever have a little girl, how would I feel if she met someone who treated her like I did you? I'd be done for murder."
I could feel my face heat at his words, but the same warmth settled in my chest, spreading wide. It was a night full of surprises. "I appreciate the apology. And congratulations on your engagement," I tacked on, surprising myself at how sincere my words were.
He waved my acknowledgement away but remained quiet. The previous awkwardness started to seep back in, so I knew it was time to wrap it up.
Simon grabbed his trash bag and waved it at me. "Better get this out before Sofia sends a search party."
"Bye, Simon."
"See ya round, Maria."
I let the door close behind me before leaning back against it.
Simon apologizing a second time was not on my bingo card. I remembered his first apology but was too agonized by my shambled personal life to take it in. I appreciated this new apology. It felt much more sincere, but more importantly, I felt strong enough and in the right frame of mind to accept it. He and I would never be friends, but I was content to let that part of my life go.
But one thing that seemed to have a chokehold on me? Brian.
That was twice in two days his name had been mentioned to me. Dr. Anna brought him up yesterday. Maybe she could sense that he was still an annoying sore spot with me because I avoided thinking or talking about him. A lot of men had let me down; one whom I had even thought myself in love with. But I’d never felt such raw disappointment as I had with Brian.
I was frank with Dr. Anna, worried that my feelings for him were part of my attachment style; that it was a cycle I couldn't break especially with how briefly Brian had been in my life.
"Maria, there is nothing wrong with how you feel about Brian. He obviously left an impression on you. The important thing to remember is that you used your voice to set your boundaries with him," Dr. Anna had assured me.
"We know that you need reassurance from your future partner. That's not a negative thing. Think of it as a checklist people have for their potential partners. In order to feel secure, you have non-negotiables. You need to know that whoever you let into your life in a romantic capacity makes you feel secure that they’re all in, and are open and communicative with you. There is nothing wrong with setting clear boundaries in what you want as a partner.”
From all accounts, if Simon's retelling was to be believed, it certainly seemed like Brian was acting like a partner. I didn't know what his game was. But I intended to find out.