Confessions of an Alli Cat (17 page)

“I don’t know about that,” she says.  “I think it’s one of those situations where once you cross that line nothing will ever be the same. I mean, you’ve had sex with Colby now.  Before, you just had sex with Shade. This is huge, Alli.  Maybe you should just consider dating him.”

I stare at her. 

But not before those images flash through my head.  Me and Colby, dating. Going to the movies.  Having dinner. Having people mistake him for my son.  No, thank you.

So I tell her that. 

“People would think he’s my son,” I say firmly. “And while I like the arrangement that we have, I’m not going to date him.  Not gonna happen, Sara.”

She clamps her mouth shut.  “We’ll see, Miss Tightly Wound.  We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t,” I tell her. “Not this time.  But speaking of seeing...  Look at my face and tell me what you see.”

I lean over my turkey club and shove my face into hers.  She’s startled for a second, but then she peers into mine, her eyes staring into my own.

“What exactly am I looking for?” she asks as she examines me. 

“My crow’s feet,” I answer.  “How bad are they?  Rick the Dick was at my house this weekend and among other things, he mentioned that I have horrible crow’s feet.  Do I?”

She turns my face to and fro in the light. 

“They’re there,” she announces. “But they’re not horrible.  Rick is a dick.  Obviously.  You’re thirty-five.  You’re going to have laugh lines.  We laugh a lot. It’s unavoidable.”

Sara picks her sandwich back up and chomps on it, unconcerned.

“Is it?” I answer thoughtfully, staring into space.  “Have you ever tried Botox?”

Sara almost chokes and I whomp her on her back.  I briefly remember the Brazilian wax incident and whomp a little harder than necessary.  Then I smile evilly. Whomping her thin little back is surprisingly satisfying.

“Are you serious?” she chokes out, wiping her mouth on a napkin as she shoves my hand away.  “You’re not getting Botox.  You know what that is, right?  It’s the bacteria that causes botulism.  It’s a freaking toxin.”

“Oh, I know,” I tell her.  “And I’m not getting Botox. 
We
are.”

She chokes again. 

“No.  If you think that… no.”  She stares at me as firmly as she can, looking down her skinny nose at me.  Her short, spiky red hair looks like even it has risen up in mutiny against me, as well.  I smile. 

“Oh, yes,” I tell her.  “I dated a gigolo, had sex with the gigolo, bought a sex toy and had a Brazilian wax.  All at your behest.  And I have to admit, those were good ideas.  You’re going to have to concede that sometimes I have good ideas too. I’m pretty sure that this is one of those times.”

She is stammering now.  Utterly speechless.  I’m definitely going to have to mark this on the calendar. 

“But… but… botulism is a bacteria.  Injected
into my face
!  That’s different than…”

“Different than a stranger’s penis injected into my vagina?” I ask innocently. Sara all but sputters.

“No, but you liked it!”

“Of course I liked it!” I stare at her like she’s grown two heads. “That penis is attached to a perfect twenty-something body.  And I’m sure that you will like the Botox, as well.  You’ve got crow’s feet too, you know. I’ve never wanted to say anything before.  But you might as well know.  We could both use an age-eraser. And that’s exactly what Botox is.  And supposedly, it doesn’t even hurt.”

“You’re the devil,” Sara announces as she cleans up her lunch trash. 

“Irrelevant,” I answer sweetly, throwing her words from the other day back at her.  “And you’re a devil, too.  That’s why we love each other so much.   I’ll make the appointment.”

“I can’t do it tonight,” she snaps. “I have Spinning.”

“That’s fine,” I say soothingly. “I’m sure they have openings for tomorrow night.”

Sara flounces off, but not before glaring at me a couple of times for good measure.  She turns and flips me off with both hands when she’s halfway to her car.  Both hands—because she means business.  I laugh and the elderly lady sitting next to us gasps. 

I lean over. “I’m sorry about that, m’am.”

But I’m really not.  It feels good to get one over on Sara for once in my life.  It’s been a long time coming. She’s usually the one pulling this kind of shit. 

I’m in a fabulous mood as I return to my office and enlist Taylor’s help in researching the best plastic surgeon in town with Botox.  She’s got an appointment for Sara and I within the hour.

“What are you smiling about?” Alex asks as he breezes into my office. 

I turn away from my computer and smile at my new boss.  There’s no way I’m going to tell him that I’m laughing because I just emailed Sara the time of our Botox appointment for tomorrow night.  I can practically hear her screaming from here and that gives me great joy.  I might be somewhat sadistic and I can’t have my new boss knowing that. 

“Nothing in particular,” I tell him.  “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”

“On a Monday?” Alex raises one handsome eyebrow.  Yes, even his eyebrows are sexy.  I smile. 

“I guess so.  I know.  I must be an alien or something.”

“I think you must surely be an alien.”

Alex smiles again and once again, I have the strangest feeling that I know him.  But once again, I know that I don’t.  I would remember such a sexy face.  And body.  Of that, I am certain.  I absently wonder how many hours a week he spends in the gym. 

“I’ve got our meeting nailed down with the supplier,” he tells me, bringing my thoughts back to the present.  “Can you be ready to leave by Thursday evening?  The meeting is Friday morning in San Diego.  We’ll do the meeting and then fly back that evening.”

I glance at my calendar.  I can surely have Sophie stay Thursday night with Rick. And if not, Sara will take her. 

“Of course,” I tell him.  “That’ll be fine.  I’ll be ready.”

“Great,” he answers. “I’ll have Libby email the details to Taylor. And I’ve brought you the background info on their company so that you’re up to speed.”  He hands me the file.

“Perfect,” I smile. 

I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. He lingers, chatting about little things…this and that.  I find myself watching him.  The way he moves, the easy way he speaks. 

Alex is definitely handsome in a very grown up way.  Refined and gorgeous.  He’s obviously grown comfortable in his skin and he wears it well.  His suits are expensive and tailored, his shoes are perfectly polished.  His smile is…well, intoxicating.  I know it sounds corny to say, but it’s true.  And he’s smiling at me right now.

“So, what do you think? Is it doable?”

Doable?  Hell yes, he’s doable.  But wait.

Uh-oh.  He asked me for something and I have no idea what. 

“Um, sure,” I answer. 

Please Lord, don’t let me be agreeing to something horrible
, I silently pray.

Although, I’m not sure God will be that inclined to help since I only don’t know what Alex said because I had been pondering how sexy he is.

Alex grins, the warmth spreading to his deep blue eyes.

“Perfect!  I’ll have Libby take care of the intern paperwork and I’ll tell my son he can start when we return from our trip. Thank you, Alli.  I appreciate this.”

I freeze.  Intern?

Craaaaaaap.  Why wasn’t I paying attention?  I don’t have time for an intern.  But I can hardly say no now. 

Instead, I smile.  “Of course.  It’s not a problem. We can surely find something for him to do.”

Alex unfolds from the chair and grins one more time, then he’s gone. 

I drop my head to my desk. 

I’m such an idiot. 

I reluctantly pick my head up so that I can e-mail Taylor the good news.  She’s in charge of another intern. And not just any intern, but the son of our senior VP.  She’s going to kill me. 

I hear her shriek when she reads it, so I run to my door and lock it so that she can’t commit any form of physical violence upon me.  I’m too young to die.

********

“I’m going to kill you,” Sara tells me.  And from the look on her face as we walk up to the plastic surgeon’s office, she might mean it.  I take a step away from her to be on the safe side.

“It’s going to be fine,” I assure her.

Although to be honest, I’m not feeling that confident.  I’d always said that I’d never get plastic surgery of any sort.  And even though an injection of botulism to the face isn’t exactly surgery, it isn’t exactly making me feel all warm and fuzzy, either.

“People do this all the time,” I continue, as we check in and sit in the posh waiting room.  A water wall flows to our left and my feet are resting on a teak floor.  “And this guy must be really good.  Check out this waiting room!  They even have chocolate.”

I motion to the little café area on the side, where there is a mocha/coffee/latte machine and baskets of chocolate bars.

Sara rolls her eyes. “Hmph.  He’s just trying to create repeat customers.  He wants to bring us back for liposuction.”

I chuckle and pick up a magazine.  But I don’t have to wait long enough for me to read it.  They call us and we go back together, led by a very trim Barbie-esque nurse. 

After having our faces poked with long needles for a brief moment, we are walking back out within minutes. 

It was quick, it was painless, and it was nothing like the experience-from-hell that I had with the Brazilian wax.  It almost doesn’t seem fair—it seems like there should have been some pain involved to pay Sara back.  I turn to her.

“See?  We’re fine.  And within a couple of days, we’re going to look ten years younger.  You can thank me then, if you like.  You don’t need to do it now.”

I laugh and she glares. 

But that entire scenario is reversed in the morning.

********

When Sara stops by my house to check out my face, she laughs until she almost pees her pants.  Because I look like the Elephant Man.  Or, rather, I look like the Elephant Man would’ve looked if he had just had an allergic reaction to botulism.

I am wailing as Sara laughs when Sophie bursts into my bathroom. 

I see my daughter visibly flinch as she looks at my face.  And to be fair, it looks like my face has been hit with a garbage truck. 

My eyes are swollen to the point where I am basically peering out from two puffy dough piles with slits in them.  There are faint shadows under my eyes and I’m not certain, but I think there is even a broken blood vessel in my left eye.  I can’t tell though, because I can’t open it far enough to examine it. 

“Oh, my god!  Who did this to you?” Sophie demands, rushing to me and spinning me around.  “I swear to god, if Dad did this, I’m going to kill him. We’ll call the police.”

I stare at her for a minute in confusion, before I realize that she thinks someone beat me up.  I look so bad that it looks like someone punched my face in.

Sara is dying now. 

Sophie glares at her.  “How can you laugh like that?  I think my mom needs a doctor.”

Sara howls. 

“Your mom already saw a doctor,” she gasps. “That’s what happened.  It’s called Botox, sweetie.  And your mom insisted that we go.  And apparently, because of a little thing called Karma, your mom has had some sort of reaction.”

Sara is picking up her cell phone as she speaks, punching in a number.  A minute later, she’s talking to the doctor’s office.  She nods and agrees with someone and then turns to me.

“Are you having problems breathing?”

Sophie gasps and I shake my head quickly. 

“No.”

Sara relays that to the nurse, then nods again before hanging up.

“Yep.  It sounds like you had a reaction.  She said that the swelling should wear off within a day or two probably.  If you have difficulty breathing or swallowing, you’re supposed to go to the emergency room.  Otherwise, you can use over the counter meds for the discomfort and ice packs.  I’m so glad that we did this, aren’t you?  What a great idea this was.”

She raises a sarcastic red eyebrow at me.  And I glare at her.

“I can’t go anywhere,” I growl.  “Not looking like this.  I look like I belong in a women’s shelter.”

Sara finally takes pity on me and stops laughing.  She actually hugs my shoulders a little. 

“I think this has taught us a valuable lesson,” she says seriously. 

I nod.  “To never have a toxin inserted into our faces?”

She nods.  “That, but also, this is why we leave decisions like this to me.  I’m the one with the brilliant ideas.”

I don’t bother rolling my eyes because no one would be able to tell anyway.  Instead, I just stomp to my bed and drop into it, covering up my head.

Sophie brings me an ice pack when she leaves for school because clearly she is an angel.  She gets that trait from her mother.  I thank her and give her $20 for lunch.  I press the ice to my poor face and pick up the remote.  If I’m going to be in bed, I’m going to use it to my full advantage and watch the Lifetime channel all day. 

And that is exactly what I do.  That is, until my cell phone rings at 4:00 pm.  I see from the ID that it is the office, so I have to answer.

It’s Taylor.

“Hey boss,” she greets me cheerfully.  “Are you feeling better?”

I had called in this morning and said that I had the flu.  Obviously, there was no way that I could tell them the truth. 

“A little,” I answer truthfully.  “Hopefully, I’ll be back in tomorrow.”

“Good deal,” she replies.  “Hey, I’m calling because Alex came by and asked me for the file that he gave you yesterday—the one with the background info on the supplier that you’re going to see this week?  I told him that you have it in your briefcase.  That’s right, isn’t it?”

I nod, then remember that she can’t see me.

“Yes, I have it in my bag.  I’ll give it to him tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s the thing.”  And I freeze at her hesitant tone.  Taylor is never, ever hesitant.  It’s part of her charm.

“What’s the thing?” I ask nervously.

“He needs it today because he’s putting together some sort of report or brief or something for the meeting.  He had to leave early for an appointment and he wanted your address so he could swing by and pick it up afterward.  I gave it to him- I didn’t figure you’d mind.”