Chapter 4 Blanche
Chapter four
Ugh. Why is the sun in my eyes? I didn’t think the bedroom in my new apartment faced east, but maybe…
Oh. Oh hell. I’m still in this man’s hotel room.
Now that I’m fully awake, I can feel the warm mass behind me and something hard poking me in the ass.
As tempting as that is, I have plenty to do today, including meeting my parents for lunch.
I can’t stay tangled up here for too long.
I ease my way to the side of the bed and step to where I think my clothes ended up last night.
There’s no sign of stirring behind me, and I’m not surprised that I wore him out.
In less than five minutes, I’m presentable and slipping silently out the door to get home and change.
It isn’t until I’m rushing out the door to the restaurant that I see the massive hickey I’ve been given as a parting gift.
A scarf around my neck hides my sins for now, but I’ll have to wake up early tomorrow to conceal it before work.
The last thing I need on my first day is to waltz in and advertise that I’ve been recently fucked.
“Blanche, sweetheart, you look like you’re about to tell us the safety features of our aircraft!”
I ignore Mom’s tease about my scarf and deal one back to her.
“Thank you, Mother. I see you’ve finally convinced Daddy to let you buy stock in the hairspray company.
Now you must be their number one customer and investor.
” She snorts as I hug Dad, and we settle into a table in the corner of the restaurant.
I love my parents, but I think it’ll be better for all of us if I live a little farther away.
“I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with your new apartment. It sounded so cute the way you described it on the phone, and I’m sure your little friends have helped make it come alive!”
My little friends, as she says, are a group of more bohemian classmates from college who all moved to the city and live nearby.
I still keep in touch with people my parents consider more savory, too—some friends from high school, and some who are children of Mom’s close friends.
Pam has always had my parents’ seal of approval, and her living with me is one of the reasons I got their support for the move in the first place.
“I still wish you had come to work for me, Pumpkin. You know, Randall says his son Randy still asks about you. I think he’ll retire within ten years, and we’ll make Randy a full partner.
” My dad has pure intentions, but I’ve never wanted to be a secretary at his law firm.
It would be a perfectly respectable position, at least until I was married off and pregnant, but becoming my mom’s peer on the country club's social committee is not my idea of a life.
And Randy, well, his name says it all. He’s had a beer gut since he was fifteen, and never failed to tell me how cute our children would be when he saw me during parties at the firm.
No, thank you. Luckily, even if they thought it was quaint that I wanted to go to college and start working at a job on my own, they’ve never tried to stop me.
It’ll be better for all of us to see each other on holidays and special occasions, and talk on the phone every other week.
Mom’s eyes flicker to my neck, and I realize my scarf has come undone and slipped a bit. She winks at me before distracting my father with the menu, and I adjust it, knowing his reaction might not be so playful.
“Blanche, I was just telling the ladies at the club this weekend about that wonderful book you said you read last week…”
Dangerous topics avoided, we make it through lunch, chatting about plans for the year and the outfits I’ve picked out for the workweek ahead.
I can tell they’re proud of me, if confused by my life choices.
By the time I’m back home, the first rays of the sunset stream through the windows of the small living room.
It’s not much, but it’s a new building with views of the rolling hills beyond the city, and I’ve managed to put my mark on it already.
As Mom said, my friends have helped me paint and hang mirrors and artwork, creating a girly haven to call home as I enter adulthood.
Living in the sorority house at college meant I had no peace or alone time, so I’m excited to have some quiet evenings after work.
Work. I’m excited and only a little nervous about starting tomorrow.
I’ve studied the Sinclair Corporation top to bottom since landing the job, and I feel confident that my preparation will help me get off to a good start.
With my degree in business, I expect to serve as a personal assistant to my boss for a while, then move into a different role within the company, depending on where life takes me.
My minor in theater started as a bit of fun, allowing me to further explore my childhood passion, but it might just come in handy, too.
I'll likely have to pretend to be something I'm not at some point in my career, and my ability to act should help. I’m not putting all of my eggs in one basket, and we’ll see how I get along with everyone in the office before I sign a longer lease in the city.
But I still have the urge to impress. It’s impossible to ignore and a product of being an only child, I’m sure.
Moving to the closet, I pull the showstopping outfit I’ve already decided on for tomorrow—genius in its simplicity, with me as the centerpiece.
My favorite black-and-white Chanel skirt suit, paired with killer heels and the stockings and garter I favor over tights.
Nobody will accuse me of not looking good, and I’ve always found it true that the better I look, the better I feel.
Changing into my pajamas, I catch sight of the worsening bruise on my neck in the mirror.
Shit. It’s a deeper purple than earlier, and I doubt any amount of concealer will help.
Rifling through my dresser to find a matching scarf for tomorrow, I think of the man who gave me the mark I’m having to fight to cover.
I don’t even know what his name is, but he was… something.
A whirlwind of passion and eye contact and depravity.
Much more than I would have ever expected from a stranger.
I’ve certainly never had so much chemistry with someone on the first night.
Only night, Blanche. The only night. The odds of seeing that man again are basically zero in a city this size, unless we all become regulars at the bar. Then maybe…
No. The last thing I need is anything more than strictly casual right now.
New job, new city, a chance to see where life takes me when I’m on my own.
I don’t need a repeat performance from my mystery man, no matter how explosive.
Explosions are uncontrolled and unpredictable.
The sex might have been crazy, but he was also crazed… not someone I need in my life.
Nope. Tomorrow is a fresh start, and I intend to make the most of it. No distractions allowed.