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Authors: Christine Brae

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BOOK: Insipid
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“Hip hop dance classes are the best for cardio! You should try it!” I yell through the loud music. Just as those words leave my lips, I’m hit with a flashback of the life I used to have.
I would give up this night with him to go back to the beginning.

“What’s the matter, MP?” he asks as he pulls me close, nestling my head on his shoulder. We’re slow dancing to a hip hop song, but the tune that plays in my head is one I don’t care to hear.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how much I missed you, Double O,” I whisper.

“I’m here now,” he answers. “I’m sorry I stayed away for so long.”

 

 

I SPEND MOST
of Wednesday morning recounting a play by play of what happened between us last night. We spent a few hours watching the view of the city, talking, laughing, catching up on our lives on opposite sides of the world.

 

“Enough about me, Jade. Tell me about you. Your family. Your life.”

“There’s nothing to tell, really. I plan to take some time soon to see my parents. My dad is in the middle of another acquisition, so I’ve been helping him with that in addition to everything else that’s going on.”

“An only child, huh? Did you have a lonely childhood? I know I can’t imagine my life without my siblings. Our house was always full of activity when I was growing up.”

“I kind of like being by myself. I didn’t really have anyone else so it’s not like I knew what I was missing.”

We both started stifling our yawns by 2:00 am. It was time to call it a night. We both walked out of the bar, quietly smirking as he wrapped himself around me when we passed by the two servers who ogled him all night.

We stood by the train tracks across the street to share a cigarette before addressing the inevitable.

“Take a cab with me, Jade. I’ll drop you off at your hotel.” He kept his arm around me before taking my hand and waving his free arm in the air to hail a taxicab.

“Don’t be silly. My hotel is right there.” I pointed at the glaring neon light right across the street from us. “I’m just going to walk.”

He pulled me towards the door as the cab stopped right in front of us. I stepped back and released his hand. “No, Luke. It’s okay. I’ll walk. You get in and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He let out a sigh, looking right into my eyes. He didn’t say anything, but the expression on his face showed me that he wanted to say more than just goodnight. “Okay. If you insist. I’m not going to force you into anything. Goodnight, Jade.” He leaned over slowly and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

“Bye, Luke. Thank you for such a fun evening,” I said as I turned around and walked away.

 

I’m kicking myself. Our hotels were so close to where we were that I know the cab ride was going to be the start of something. I wanted it to happen, I was just too naive to see that as it was taking place. I pick up my phone to call him, figuring he must be getting ready to break for lunch.

He answers on the first ring. “Hi.”

“Hi. Did you get back okay last night?”

“No, I was accosted by those hot young servers and we spent a wild night in a threesome.”

I let out a forced laugh. “Good for you.” I gather up the courage to proceed with the reason for my call. “Hey, about last night. I’m sorry I didn’t get in the cab with you.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to force you to do anything.”

“No, it’s me. I’m so clueless sometimes. I’ve never really done this before so I didn’t quite understand what was happening…” I let out a slight pause before gathering up the courage to say it out loud, “but I do now.”

“You do what, now?”

“I want to see you. Are you at lunch? Can we meet at your lobby in a few minutes?” My tone is low and seductive. This statement has so many meanings, but I no longer care at this point. The problem with wanting someone so badly is that you put yourself out there, oftentimes at the risk of rejection. I’m so consumed with these indiscernible feelings that I don’t even think of the consequences of my actions.

“Jade,” he says with a sigh, “why are you doing this to me now? You know I would love to, but the client is waiting for me. We’re having lunch with their underwriters.”

“Oh.” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice. “Okay. Go, don’t be late. We’ll talk later.”

 

 

SIX O’CLOCK. STILL
no word from him. I don’t know what to think about anything. I’m beginning to wonder whether I’ve scared him off. Maybe I came across as some neurotic, desperate woman. I feel foolish and stupid, so I turn off my phone and bury myself in a myriad of open items. An hour later, as I trudge down the long hallway on my way back to my office from the pantry across the street, I see my old friend, Matt, from one of our divisions in Ohio.

“Hey, stranger!” he greets me excitedly. “How are you?”

“I’m great, Matt! What are you doing here?” I ask as he reaches out to give me a hug.

“Just got out of a sales meeting. Where are you off to?” His trademark smile and wavy blond hair makes me remember how many hearts he broke when he was assigned to the Chicago office.

“Oh, nowhere. Back upstairs. Trying to finish a report due tomorrow,” I lie.
I’m inexplicably at the beck and call of some smug guy who thinks I’m sitting around waiting for him to call. And I’m ashamed to admit that he’s right.

“Can I buy you a quick drink before you retreat back into your cave?” he asks, his fingers encircling the crook of my arm. “It’s been so long, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, hell, why not? One drink.”

No more waiting.

Matt and I go way back to when he was on the sales force in Chicago. We traveled overseas together, sometimes for weeks at a time, and so I missed his friendship when he was transferred to Ohio a few years ago. He’s my age and divorced with two children. He and his ex-wife have an amicable relationship, which makes him very active in his family’s life. His marriage was a casualty of the life of a road warrior. He lives alone now but is never outside of a relationship.

We decide to walk to a different bar, blocks away from the office. No matter where you go in this town, the nightlife is hopping. We sit at the bar on a dead end corner where there’s nothing else next to me but the bathroom wall. Matt walks away for a few minutes, only to return with my usual drink and a whiskey straight on the rocks for him.

We catch up on his life in Ohio. He’s seeing three women but misses the settled life that he had with his wife. He tells me that he wants back into his marriage. He realizes that what matters are his children and what he hoped would be a best friend and lover that he could come home to at the end of every day. It’s heartbreaking to hear him speak only because he embodies most of the misgivings I have in my own life. By my third drink, I’ve grown quiet, partly because I’m starting to feel my emotional exhaustion and partly because the bartender has spiked these drinks so much that I’m feeling lightheaded.

“He’s not worth it. If he’s making you feel this miserable, he’s not the guy for you.”

“What are you talking about?” I feign innocence.

“Jade. I can see it in your eyes. Which are still as expressive as ever, by the way,” he teases. “I can see how sad you are. What’s going on?”

“I’m just tired of feeling this way. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotion for me, and I think it’s all in my head.”

“What’s in your head?”

“That he’s even interested in me.”

“Oh, holy hell. Who wouldn’t be interested in you?”

“Stop it. I’m serious. I’m so much older.”

“And? So? Has anyone told you that you look 20?”

“Matt. Please. I really don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Jade, listen to me. Whatever you’re feeling right now, if it’s making you sad and unhappy, then you shouldn’t pursue it. I’ve never known you to be like this. You’ve survived years and years in your career without falling for the millions of passes men have made at you. I watched it when we were traveling together. I used to think, ‘Wow, this woman. She’s just so put together. She can take care of herself.’”

“I know,” I acknowledge sadly. “Maybe it’s age. Maybe I’m getting old and sappy and needy. Look at me, I can’t even hold three drinks together.”

“Well, first of all, you’re not a drinker. And for some reason, this dick is getting to you but he doesn’t deserve you. Move on. Don’t give him the benefit of doing this to you.”

“Matt?”

“Hmm?” he responds as he motions for another drink.

“Do you think I’m going to die without ever feeling the way that I felt when I first fell in love? Do you think there’s such a thing as being too old to want to feel that way?”

“Oh, no.” He takes my hand in his and lovingly caresses them with his thumbs. “No. We’re not too old. But we’re old enough to know that superficial love always carries an expiration date with it. Sometimes you get so caught up in the here and now, the instant gratification, that it blurs your vision and prevents you from seeing things as they truly are. Everything fades away with time. When all is said and done, the loud noise of all that excitement and passion will eventually quiet down. The trick is to keep the music going. My wife, Michelle, she’s the music that’s been in my head all this time, I just didn’t take the time to hear it.”

“That loud noise. It reverberates in my ears every waking hour of the day. I can’t shake it off.” I laugh, embarrassed at my own admission. “And about Michelle, tell her. Tell her exactly what you just told me.”

“What keeps you going?” He makes my confession sound terribly irrational. After all, it’s a little bit unusual for someone to affirm that the source of her stress is also the object of her devotion.

I don’t hesitate to respond—I have my answers. “He makes me feel young and alive. One happy moment with him trumps all the tears and stress of the times I spend without him. It sounds crazy. I think I’ve totally lost it.”

“Ask yourself this. Do you see a future with him? Are you even in love with him or is he merely filling a gap left behind by the events of the past year?”

“I honestly think both answers are No.”

“Okay, then how ‘bout this one. Will he do anything for you? Will he put his life and career on the line for you?”

“No. I don’t believe so,” I concede dejectedly.

Our conversation is interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I don’t answer it. I let it go to voicemail. It rings again and I ignore it. On the third ring, Matt presses the green button and places it against my ear. I glare at him and take the phone from his hand.

“Yup.”

“Jade, where are you?”

“Out.”

“Out where? I’m packing up to meet you.”

“Who said we were going to meet tonight?” I say defiantly. “I’m busy.”

“With whom?”

“Matt. My friend.”

“Who? Where?”

“I’m out, Lucas. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I hang up the phone, but of course, he calls back.

“Lucas, I’ll call you tomorrow!” I exclaim without a greeting.

“No. I’m coming now. Where are you?”

“I’m at—” I start to giggle. “I don’t know. Where are we, Matt?”

Matt rolls his eyes and says into the speaker, “Wacker and Wabash.”

“Yeah. Here,” I sneer.

Ten minutes later, Lucas comes strutting into the bar. He dodges his head from side to side, trying to spot me. A smile lights up his face as soon we lock eyes.

“That’s the dude?” Matt asks. “He looks like a fucking model and you’re still too pretty for him.”

“Well, that’s what the chicks at the office said about you!” I taunt affectionately.

Lucas circles around the bar as if he’s marking his territory. He stands directly behind me and kisses the top of my head, slipping his fingers through my scarf and stroking my neck.

“Well, I guess this is my cue to get going,” Matt says, his a warm smile coupled with a concerned look in his eyes.

“No!” I squeak. “Stay for another drink!”

“I think you’ve had enough,” Lucas interjects, apparently amused at seeing me so animated. “I’m here to take you back to your hotel.” He centers his attention on Matt, who stands protectively next to me, waiting for me to give him permission to leave.

BOOK: Insipid
10.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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