Maybe Baby Lite (38 page)

“
What?” I exclaimed,
thankful that the din of the bar masked my voice as it
rose.

“
I’m not judging you,
Tylar. I just know that what I see is someone trying their best to
please a man who might just prefer his woman not change into
something she's not. Doesn’t mean it won’t be a rocky road, but
it'll be one traveled together.”

I knew he had a point, yet
I was having trouble seeing exactly how it related to me in this
situation. What should I've done differently? I didn’t tolerate
Trey’s assertion that I could only have female friends and being
out tonight with Mark proved that. I had the “opt out” clause
inserted into the agreement, hadn’t I?

Then I realized the bigger
picture in all of this. Why would I have tolerated our agreement to
begin with? In reality it was a declaration of sexual exclusivity
with no attachments, and the rest of the rules seemed to develop
along the way with Trey calling the shots.

“
Mark, how about we shoot
some pool,” I suggested.

Two rounds of beer later,
Mark and I'd shot three games of pool. Mark had destroyed me each
and every time. I begged for mercy so we sat back down at our
table.

“
I don’t think I’ve ever
had so much fun getting my ass kicked at something,” I said,
laughing.

“
You’ll get the hang of
it,” Mark assured me. “You just need a little coaching, that’s
all.”

“
Yeah, but when I
scratched the 8-ball and it landed two tables over, I thought that
guy was going to kick your ass.”

I was remembering the look
on Mark’s face and it started me in another fit of laughter. He
joined in.

“
That was a bit scary, I
admit.”

“
But you handled it very
well, Mark. Pointing to me and saying, ‘she did it.’ Glad you had
my back.”

By this time, we were both
laughing hysterically. The waitress came over to see if we wanted
another round. We’d both had enough and knew it. Mark paid the tab.
I told him next time it would be my treat. I kind of liked this
place. We headed back to the manor. I was thankful it was fairly
close, as Mark was feeling no pain. He parked his truck next to the
stables.

“
I'm walking you up to
your cottage, Tylar.”

“
That’s not necessary,
really.”

“
No I won’t hear of it.
I'll see that you're safely inside.”

We walked up the path
toward the cottages. Ray’s place was dark since he'd moved in with
Denise. Charlie’s had lights on inside; I could see his television
on. As we passed Jenna’s, I noted that her Friday night lingerie
had been taken in. Her lights were on and I thought I saw her
peeping out of the side window as we passed.

“
Here we are,” I said,
getting my keys out of my purse.

I unlocked the door and
turned to say good night to Mark but he was right there in front of
me, just inches away. Before I knew what to think, he pulled me
toward him, gently lifting my chin so that our lips met. His kiss
was soft and warm, his lips moved against my mouth earnestly,
trying to draw me into a deeper and more passionate kiss. I finally
put my hands against his chest, gently pushing back from
him.

“
Mark, I’m sorry. I can’t,
I can’t...”

“
Don’t worry about it,
Tylar. I’m the one that's sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you for a
kiss like that. Forgive me?”

“
There’s nothing to
forgive,” I answered, “I had a wonderful time with you tonight,
Mark. I really would like to do it again, okay? But for now, we
need to stay friends. I’m not equipped for anything more at the
moment.”

“
I understand,” he
replied, kindly. “You get inside and I want to hear that door lock
behind you, got it?”

“
Good night,
Mark.”

“
Good night,
Tylar.”

I was never so eager for
Monday to roll around. The weekend just seemed to drag and as busy
as I tried to keep myself, there was only so much cleaning I could
do in my small cottage. I'd only taken my car out once, to get some
groceries.

Monday morning began
fairly overcast, and the weather report indicated that a line of
heavy storms was moving in later in the day. I wanted to get some
training in; it was therapeutic for me. I knew that I'd feel a
little weird around Mark after our botched kiss on Friday night,
but I had no choice but to get past it.

I went to the stables,
tacked up Derringer, and then led him to the arena. I saw Jenna as
I was walking Derringer up to the entrance gate. She had a sourer
look on her face than usual. I generally tried to ignore Jenna, but
this morning, she was on a mission.

“
Well, if it isn’t the
Slut of Sinclair Manor,” she hissed. I looked around to be sure
that she'd actually been addressing me.

“
What’s your problem now,
Jenna?”

“
Is there no one you won’t
fuck to get ahead?”

“
I think you're confusing
me with you,” I retorted.

“
You bitch,” she sneered.
“You knew damn well that I've been seeing Mark. As soon as your
main fuck leaves town, you hit on mine!”

By this time, passers-by
were turning their heads to observe the woman dressed in 1845
period clothing, hair tightly pulled up in a bun, prim and proper,
cussing at me in language that'd make a drunken sailor blush. Mark
had heard the exchange from where he stood inside the arena. He
quickly stepped outside, opening the gate so that I could enter
with Derringer.

“
Mark,” I said, “I think
Jenna wants to talk to you.”

I continued inside,
leaving Mark to deal with the drama. I'd nothing to explain to
Jenna. He was back in a few minutes, shaking his head,
disgusted.

“
Tylar, I'm really sorry
for her outburst out there. I explained to her once again that she
and I are not in a relationship. She's hell bent on thinking that
you came between us.”

“
Did you lead her on in
any way, Mark?” I didn’t want to delve into his personal stuff, but
I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jenna’s wrath without
knowing why she felt so strongly about Mark.

“
Well, we slept
together...once,” he said.

“
You know Mark, I’m no
expert on relationships, but sleeping together is a big
deal.”

Maybe I should ask Mark as
to whether he had a pre-coital discussion with Jenna prior to doing
the dirty deed to make sure that his bases were covered. How could
I possibly lecture Mark on something like this when I'd signed up
and agreed to be someone’s fuck-buddy, no strings
attached?

“
I’ll talk to her again,
one-on-one,” he said.

“
I think that's the right
thing to do.”

We got busy with our
practice. The morning flew by. We broke for lunch, and watched our
training videos while we ate. I stayed to review the videos one
more time. We planned to meet back in the arena at 1:30 but at that
time the sky was extremely dark; the sound of thunder wasn't that
far off in the distance. We stood in the arena and scanned the
sky.

“
What do you think?” I
asked.

“
I think that by the time
you get Derringer back over to the stables, the sky will be ready
to cut loose,” Mark answered. We agreed to call it a day and meet
back in the morning.

I was preparing to remount
Derringer to ride the trail back to the stable when I spotted Trey
standing by the arena gate. So he was back. He looked as gorgeous
as ever in a navy suit and white dress shirt. His tie was a blend
of dark blue and grey. For a moment my heart fluttered, thinking
that he was here to see me, to tell me that he’d missed me, and
that everything had just been a big misunderstanding. I realized
then that he wasn't here to see me. He called Mark over to talk
with him.

I looked beyond Trey, up
past the open gate to the arena. There stood Charlotte, dressed in
a peach colored shift, white sandal heels, and a white wide-brimmed
summer hat. She was waiting for Trey; apparently they had plans. I
stood frozen, not wanting to walk past Trey and certainly not
wanting to let Charlotte get the best of me. I wondered if she'd
ever known about Trey and me. Past tense now, I thought. Did it
even matter?

Whatever business Trey had
with Mark did not take long. Trey turned without giving me so much
as a glance, and walked back up to the gate, to Charlotte who was
patiently waiting for her man. She smiled as he approached and
reached out to brush a speck of lint off his lapel. Trey closed the
gate behind him, imprinting the image of the two of them on my mind
for eternity. I hadn’t noticed Mark approach me.

“
Hey, it was great working
with you, Tylar,” he said.

“
What?” I asked,
confused.

“
It appears my services
are no longer required here. I’ve been relieved of my duties,
effective immediately. I was just informed by the top man
himself.”

“
No! What—why?” I
stammered, trying to understand.

“
I was given no detailed
explanation, but if I had to guess, I'd say he heard about our kiss
last week.”

“
How?”

“
How do you
think?”

“
Jenna?” I
said.

“
Bingo,” Mark replied,
sardonically. “I gotta get packed up. Take care, Tylar.”

This couldn't be
happening. I was in shock on a couple of fronts. This wasn't fair
to Mark at all. I felt like I needed to do something. I needed to
talk to Trey but that was impossible with Charlotte around. I'd try
later. He could be reasoned with, unless I'd totally misjudged
him.

I led Derringer over to
the stables just as the skies cut loose. I couldn’t stop thinking
about Mark. All he'd been was a friend to me. My anger was with
Jenna right now. I needed to lash out at someone. She was the most
deserving of it. Then I remembered she wouldn’t be off of work yet.
That’s fine; I'd wait for her.

I went back to my cottage
to wait for her to get off work, generally by 4:30 every afternoon.
When the time came, I peered out of my bedroom window to get a view
of Jenna’s cottage. There were no lights on yet. About 30 minutes
later, the rain had died down to a drizzle. I put my flip-flops on
and grabbed my keys, locking my cottage as I strode to Jenna’s
cabin. There was still no light on inside, but I pounded on her
door anyway. I waited for a few seconds, and then pounded again.
There was no answer.

I left her porch and I
walked up the gravel drive to where the pavement started. I
couldn’t tell if Trey was home. I marched up the concrete steps to
the massive front porch and rang the bell. Moments later, Thatcher
appeared, poorly masking his surprise.

“
Hi Thatcher,” I greeted,
warmly, “Is Trey available?”

Thatcher was extremely
uncomfortable, shifting his weight as he stood. I heard footsteps
behind him on the tiled floor.

“
That’s okay, Thatcher, I
have this,” Trey said, now in plain view. Thatcher looked grateful
to take his leave.

“
Thatcher, please see if
Charlotte needs a refill.”

“
Yes sir,” he answered
disappearing into the dining room.

“
May I help you, Ms.
Preston?”

“
Cut the crap, Trey. Why'd
you fire Mark?”

Trey stepped out onto the
porch where I was standing, closing the door behind him. “I made a
business decision, Ms. Preston. I don’t recall needing your
approval or the approval of any of the other staff here to do
that.”

“
I see,” I replied,
coolly. “So what does that mean for me? Are you going to fire me
too?”

“
Of course not. Your
duties will be reassigned once again. I believe Jenna requires some
help over at the plantation house. I think your services could be
put to good use over there. You can report to Jenna tomorrow. She
can show you the ropes, and get you the proper period
costume.”

Oh no way, I thought. He
had no intention of firing me. He preferred to make me so miserable
that I'd quit.

“
By the way, Ms. Preston,”
he said, eyeing my tight jean shorts, “I wouldn’t recommend your
wearing those ‘Daisy Dukes’ to work. It kind of kills the whole
culture we try to sell here at Sinclair’s Le Vie Belle Plantation.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have company waiting.”

He turned and retreated
back into the house to Charlotte. I made my own hasty retreat back
up the path to the cottages. I went up to my porch, opening the
screen door. There was a folded piece of paper between the two
doors. I opened the door and quickly entered the cottage, shutting
and locking the door behind me. I unfolded the paper.

It was a printout of a
digital photo. The picture was of Mark and I kissing on my porch,
the porch light illuminated our faces perfectly. Unfortunately, the
picture didn’t depict the part where I stopped the kiss. A message
was written underneath the picture:

"I’m sure your boyfriend
enjoyed this picture. Once a whore, always a whore"