Secondhand Purses (11 page)

I finally reached my house, not remembering the walk there as I’d been lost in the memories of ten years past. I shook my head. Why wouldn’t this shit just stay buried like it was supposed to? I mean, seriously? I had a date with a hot, tattooed biker and I needed to clear off the funk of eight hours in the oven.

Stepping out of the shower, I heard my front doorbell ringing as if the world was coming to an end.

“Hold your horses, I’m coming. Shit!” I rammed my foot into the corner of my bed post as I made my way to the front door in my first floor apartment.

I ripped the door open, anger fueling my ridiculous level of brute strength.

I was face to face with a really pretty, petite red head who looked as if she were ready to rip my throat out.

“Uh, can I help you?”

“That depends. Do you
always
screw other women’s husbands?”

What the…

“Do I
what?
”

“Srew. Other. Women’s. Husbands.”

Psycho bitch stood there with one hand on her hip, tilting her head with each word as she leaned closer and closer to me. I had no idea what she was talking about. First, I hadn’t screwed anyone. Second, husband?

“Lady, I have no clue what you are selling, but I’m not buying. I have not been screwing
anyone,
let alone your husband, whoever the hell that is.”

The crazy chick started laughing, a scary laugh that made me recoil in a little bit of apprehension over her mental well-being.

“Oh, that’s rich. So, Ryan hasn’t sealed the deal with you, yet? No wonder you guys are still together.”

“What the hell is your problem, psycho? I am dating Rhine, not Ryan. I mean, yeah, his name is Ryan but he goes by Rhine. He has no wedding ring, and no freaking tan line. We’ve only been dating three weeks so I don’t know what type of women you associate with, but I am
not
the type to hop in the sack with someone as a way of saying hello.”

She visibly deflated. A fat tear ran down her cheek.

“So he’s going by Rhine again, is he? Let me guess, you met him at a biker bar?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“He had been doing so well for so long. He hadn’t done this since counselling. Why now?”

I stepped back and gestured for the woman to enter my house. I wouldn’t lie, it was probably a stupid move to let a questionably mentally unstable woman have free reign in my home. For all I knew, she could be packing and be one step away from blowing my head off.

She collapsed on my couch, and held her head in her hands as her shoulder shook with silent sobs.

I didn’t know what to do with this. I had limited experience with crying women. I sat next to her and gingerly put my hand on her shoulder, still ready to bolt in the event she went postal on me.

“Ma’am?”

Her tear blurred eyes turned towards me, the depths of pain in her eyes causing my heart to clench in sympathy.

“You are going out with him tonight, aren’t you?”

“Well, I
was
. Not so sure that’s high on my ‘must do’ list currently.”

She attempted a smile. She reached for me and I fumbled before holding her hand.

“Listen, I’m sorry, uh…”

“Bryn.”

“Okay, Bryn. I’m really sorry. I honestly had no idea he was married. He never wore a ring and he is pale as a True Blood cast member, so it wasn’t like I saw a wedding tan line. But, we have to do something. We can’t let him get away with this.”

“We?” She turned hopeful, yet anguished eyes to me.

“Yeah, we.” My mind raced as I tried to come up with a game plan.

“Wait, Rhine, I mean, Ryan…he doesn’t know that you are here, does he?”

“No way, he would be pissed if he knew I knew about his extracurricular activities.”

“Perfect. Here’s what we are going to do.” We spent the next thirty minutes plotting and planning Rhine’s demise. Hell hath no fury, and all that crap. I should have been really pissed off about the whole thing, I mean, I was really getting into this guy.

But, truth be told, it seemed like the ‘bad boy’ image is part of what drew me to him. If I wanted the bad boy image, it looked like I was going to get a jack ass to go with it. Plus, crazy as it seemed, I was really enjoying spending time with another female. I didn’t have many friends that I hang out with. Even though this chick was crazy pissed, she was kind of fun.

Another half hour went by and I heard his Harley pull up in front of my apartment. Damn, I was really going to miss that thing.

He knocked on the door and I took a deep breath before opening up the door. Showtime.

“Hey, gorgeous, how’s my sexy little cupcake?” He pulled me close for a very long, very wet kiss. Gag. Oh dear
Lord
, help me from throwing up in his mouth.

I giggled as I gazed into his eyes with what I hoped was adoration. I had to sell this shit and sell it good.

“Oh my God, you are so sweet. I thought this day would never end. I couldn’t wait to see you tonight.
All
of you.”

His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the present he thought he was finally getting the chance to unwrap today.

“Are you serious? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He was all but jumping up and down with joy. Pathetic. What did I ever see in him? I glanced out the window and then looked back at him. Oh yeah, that was it. Harley and tattoos. Ugh.

“Mmmmm hmmmm.” I tried to purr out my affirmative response.

“And, to make tonight even more memorable, I thought I would invite a friend of mine over.”

I thought I was maybe laying it on too thick, except he looked as if he was about to pass out. Oh, man, I needed to quit my dreams of owning a bakery and move to New York and Broadway stardom.

“Holy shit, Alex. You’re screwing with me. No freakin’ way. A threesome?”

I just grinned and reached for his hand.

“Rhine, why don’t you go into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and three glasses. I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Uh, it’s the door on the left.” Glad I remembered that he’d never been there before.

I waited until he was in the kitchen before scrambling to the bedroom. Bryn looked like she was half pissed, half petrified.

“Bryn, he’s going to be in here in about two seconds. Get in the closet.”

She scampered over, and I quickly looked around to make sure there was no obvious sign of who our mystery guest was.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard him walk in behind me.

“Hey, where’s your friend?” He was frowning, as if someone had taken his favorite toy away from him.

“She’s just getting herself all ready and freshened up, hon. I think it’s time to make
you
comfortable.”

I walked over to him, not really able to accept what I was about to do.

I grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, and slowly edged it up his torso, leaning in to kiss a path up his six pack abs and to his ridiculously muscular chest. I had to keep reminding myself that this was not happening, that I would never be tasting this for real.

Once I got his shirt up over his head, I threaded my hand through his slightly shaggy hair, stood on my tiptoes and gave him the hottest kiss I could muster. Judging by what I felt against my abdomen, I was succeeding. I gently pushed him back towards the foot of the bed, and when he stopped I put my hand on his chest and pushed him backwards, enjoying the shocked look on his face when he fell backwards.

“Wow, Alex, I was starting to wonder if you didn’t want me as much as I wanted you. You sure went from zero to ninety in a day.”

“Had to make you work for it, Rhine. I couldn’t have you thinking I was easy. Now, sexy, why don’t you scoot back. It’s been a while for me, and I have some things I would love to try.”

He scooted back so quickly that he accidentally cracked his head on the headboard. I had to fight not to laugh and appear all sympathetic.

I crawled up the bed towards him, giving him one hell of a view of my C cups.

“Oh, baby. That looked like it hurt.”

I straddled him, grinding down on his erection that I could feel through his jeans.

Leaning forward, I whispered in his ear.

“Let’s see if I can think of something to make you forget that pain.”

He just sat there with his jaw open, unable to make a sound.

I reached over him to the bedpost, making sure that his face ended up between the girls.

“Give me your hand. I think it’s time for a little bondage play.”

“Holy crap, Alex, you’re going to give me a damn heart attack tonight.” He eagerly lifted his hand towards me, and I secured it to the bedpost with a silky thigh high stocking. Thank the Lord for slutty Halloween costumes.

“Now the other one.”

With his other hand securely tied to the other side of the bed, I turned towards him, slowly unbuttoning my top.

“Are you ready for the main event?”

“Oh
hell
yeah!” He tried to sit up, but I tied a pretty mean not, so he flopped backwards and bounced his feet on the bed a bit in anticipation.

I faced the closet.

“Okay, sweetie, time for you to come out of the closet, now.”

I turned to face him, my sultry look starting to grow mean as I heard the closet door open up behind me. The best way I could describe the sound that came from Rhine/Ryan’s oh so masculine body was, well, squeak.

That’s right, he squeaked.

I laughed. It wasn’t a cute chuckle. It wasn’t an adorable giggle. I full on laughed.

I smiled briefly at Bryn before turning cold, steel eyes towards the rat bastard that thought cheating was an awesome idea.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that I’d met your
wife?
My bad. Then again, you somehow conveniently forgot to tell me that you were married, so I guess we are even on that one. Funny thing about women that you are obviously completely unaware of. We don’t usually love sharing our playthings. And that’s what you are to me, you know? Just a sad little plaything. You wanted to play us? Well, now it’s our turn to play.”

I turned to Bryn, talking loud enough to make sure he wouldn’t miss a word.

“The candle next to the bed has burned enough that there should be plenty of hot wax. There is a riding crop in the closet. I tied knots around his wrists that would make a boy scout weep in pleasure. Have fun, you’ve earned it.”

Turning back to the man who had filled some crazy level fantasies for me once upon a time, I stalked towards the bed. I sat on the edge, and leaned over him. I traced his ridiculously perfect ab muscles with a fingernail that perhaps pushed a little too hard into his flesh. I looked him in the eye, and grinned with an evil glint in my eye.

“Oh, and by the way,
Ryan.
The neighbor above me works nights. The neighbor next door to me is on vacation. Scream all you want, no one will hear you. Enjoy how karma feels.”

I grabbed between his legs and gave his wilted package a quick squeeze, laughing at his yelp of pain.

“Bryn, when you’re done, call me.”

With that, I sauntered out of my bedroom and out of the apartment.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was really a funny way to make a new friend, when you think of it. I was just standing there, minding my own business, dating a guy I met at a biker bar when I was assaulted by his wife. The two of us conspired to do some stuff that perhaps was in the grey area of legality, and next thing you know I was here sipping coffee with her, laughing over the whole thing in the corner booth of the local café.

“Oh my
God
, did you see the look on his face when you popped out of the closet? That made the whole experience epic for me.”

We both laughed hysterically, loud enough to make about half of the customers turn and look, which made us laugh even harder, which in turn sent some glares our way.

Bryn took a breath and when she did her breath caught and turned into a quiet sob. I had to keep in mind that this had to be horrible for her, despite the awesome way we nailed her cheating soon to be ex-husband to the wall.

“Yeah, I mean, it
was
cathartic to see him squirm like that, I can’t lie. I just, well, I really meant forever when I said the vows. I guess I thought he meant it, too.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Two years. I know, I know…not very long. But still, I really thought he was going to be my forever. I found evidence of his cheating two
weeks
after we were married. You were the first one I was able to track down. I should thank you for having a home phone, most people just have cell phones now so it’s harder to find them.”

“Stalker much?” I said it in a teasing voice.

“Why
do
you have a home phone? You’re only, what, twenty five?”

“Twenty six, turning twenty seven in a week.” I replied softly, my mind going to the reason I had a home phone.

“When I was sixteen, we lived in Providence, Rhode Island. I had a really hard time making friends, but when I finally did, it was with this older woman a block over. She was incredible, spunky as all hell and everything I wanted to become. I never found out her name, she just had me call her Nonna, which it turns out means ‘grandmother’ in Italian. She’s the one who taught me to bake.”

I paused, letting my mind bring me back to her kitchen. The small café we were in faded away and I could see the counter, the multi-colored walls. I could smell the zeppole that we made the first time we baked together. I could see the glint in her eyes that belied her age.

“When we had to move, she made me promise to write. I have many times tried talking her into using email, but she refuses. She even bought a laptop before I left and we set up an email account for her, but she hates how impersonal email is. She also refuses a cell phone and said that she has a hard time hearing me when I call her on mine. So I got a home phone. She usually calls me every Saturday and I call her every Wednesday. I really thought we’d lose touch by now, but she really
is
my grandmother.”

“So, why do you sound so sad?” Bryn cocked her head looking at me, seeming a little confused.

“I just realized I haven’t heard from her this week. That’s not normal. I have absolutely no idea how old she is, so I hope she’s not sick or in the hospital or something.”

“Do you have anyone you can call to check on her?”

I shook my head sadly. The only person I could have called, if I had a way to contact him, was the last person on Earth I ever wanted to see or hear from again.

“No, she moved from Providence to this cute little village in Massachusetts, right on the coast. She sent me a picture once, like, an actual picture printed up and stuff, not electronic. It looks so adorable and cozy. But she has no family near her, and I don’t know any of her neighbors.”

“When did you last see her?”

I was embarrassed to admit this part. I really had no excuse for it.

“Ten years ago, when we left Providence.”

“WHAT? You have never been back to visit? Are you freaking kidding me? This woman was your grandmother and you have never made the effort? Why? You obviously adore her.”

“The truth is, when I was younger, I didn’t have a way to get up there. I mean, I was still under my parents’ thumb. Then I tried my hand at college, and that didn’t work, because I was going for business like my dad wanted and not culinary, like I wanted. Then I started working at the hell hole where I make a million of the same thing day in and day out.”

“So?”

“I don’t want her to see that I failed our dream.” I said this quietly, remembering Vicki and how Nonna saw me becoming some sort of avenging lioness named Alex.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I just, I don’t know. You come across as so confident and like you can totally take the world by its balls and then pour some hot wax on it and whoop the crap out of it with a riding crop. You didn’t strike me as a scared girl.”

I sat up straighter in my seat, and narrowed my eyes to pin her with my best ‘screw you’ face.

“What the hell are you talking about? If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who came to my house and threatened me because your man was cheating. I was the one who came up with a method of torture. Scared little girl, my ass.”

“Then why are you willing to accept the way life has turned out, if it makes you unhappy? Why aren’t you trying to make your shared dream a reality? Why are you willing to settle?”

I cursed under my breath. Damned if she wasn’t right, and I really didn’t want her to be right.

“Because it’s easier to succeed at easy than fail at hard.”

“Funny, a hard core chick named Alex, with purple ends on her black hair and a crap ton of tattoos does not strike me as someone who takes the easy way out of life.”

Ugh.

***

Despite the hard love thrown my way by Bryn, I returned to my mundane routine. I couldn’t lie, her words had hit and held.

Why are you willing to settle?
ran though my head all day. It was on this ridiculous loop that I couldn’t stop. It was kind of like when a song got stuck in your head. Only this one was mocking me.

Plus, let’s face it, I was now not dating my sexy as hell biker, because he turned out to have a big flaw. He had an issue with monogamy. For three weeks I’d at least had the distraction of knowing that I would be going on a date. It was amazing how much mental effort I could throw into getting ready for a date. For a whole week.

Shit. I was kind of pathetic.

Well, it was Saturday and I didn’t have to work, thank God. I had nothing to do so I decided, what the hell, I’d go for a run. Running couldn’t be that hard, I’d run for about an hour or so, come home, take a shower and then plan out my next moment of genius in the bakery. My latest obsession was taking classic Italian pastries and making modern modifications to them, to appeal to a wider population. Nonna loved hearing about my efforts, and I would always send her a recipe to try out. She would make suggestions and together we had redefined cannoli, zeppole and panetone.

I laced up my sneakers and threw my MP3 player in my pocket. Seriously, how hard could this be?

I did some half assed stretches, like I’d seen other runners do. Kicked my leg forward, swung it back, maybe, I don’t know…three times? Pull my foot to my butt, stand there like an idiot flamingo for a few moments. Switched to the other leg.

I put my headphones on, because I couldn’t make earbuds stay in my ears to save myself, and turned on my angry music. Some awesome classic late 90’s grungy shit. Everclear, to start. I was only, like, five when this stuff came out, but when I needed a swift kick in the ass, this was what got me going.

I jogged in place for a few seconds and smirked. Seriously, this wasn’t going to be hard. Running was going to be easy. I immediately thought I should train for a half-marathon. That could be fun.

I set off at an easy pace, enjoying the beat in my ears.

Suddenly, I realized I was gulping air as if I was about to die. My lungs burned like acid had been poured into them. My left calf muscle started to cramp a bit, as did my right side. What the hell? How long had I been in this self-inflicted torture? I looked at my phone. Shit. Three minutes.

That half marathon I was mentally preparing for became a 5K.

I kept pushing my legs to move forward. I had imagined what running would be like. Just me, the pavement, and my music. My feet gently tapping out at thwap, thwap as I all but glided over the ground.

Reality was more like a Clydesdale clomping down the street. I had sweat in my eyes and snot was running down my face. This was
not
fun. What sort of screwed up drugs was I taking to ever think that running would be ‘fun’?

A quick check and I realized I’d only been running for ten minutes. Dammit. Okay, I gave myself a quick mental pep talk. One half hour. If I make it one half of an hour without dying, I could stop. I only had twenty more minutes.

As this was my first time ever even attempting to run outside of the hellish gym classes I was subjected to in school, I had no concept of how far a mile was. So, I just started running around the block. Seriously, I had barely laced up athletic shoes since I graduated. I rocked the Chucks every day of my life, but legit running shoes? Hell, no. I loved the kickboxing classes I was going weekly, but those were taught barefoot.

I decided to pull up my big girl panties and go for it. I picked up my speed a bit, which was like telling a snail to have the speed of a turtle, and pushed myself to not give up. After my tenth lap around the block I stopped, bent over and dry heaving. I was pretty sure I was about to hurl my guts out, right there on the spot. I looked at my phone again, and felt ridiculously victorious that I had lasted for thirty two minutes.

I walked into my apartment and praised every possible religious deity known to man and some goats that I had a single story apartment. Stepping into the shower I groaned in appreciation as the hot needles of water hit my aching body. This was crazy, why did people do this every freaking day? They must be sadists. Or were they masochists. I couldn’t tell them apart. Whatever, they must be kinky freaks who were into whips and chains and nipple clamps and all sorts of ridiculous torture if they thought running was a great way to spend their free time.

I whimpered as I tried to step out of the shower. Lifting my leg five inches took three tries, and me physically lifting it with my arms. I changed into comfy sweats and prepared for an exciting day of sitting on the couch, reading baking magazines.

Two hours later I was immersed in a world of confection. I had two Pastry Magazine issues opened up and my tablet on my lap. I was working on concocting a new version of the almond ravioli cookie, which had a filling of almond paste and chocolate. I was working on researching flavors and fillings that would also work with the almond paste, and also creating a version free of nuts for those with allergies. I had so far combined a tart raspberry compote with the melted chocolate for a richer, nut free version. Also, a lemon almond version without the chocolate for those with a chocolate allergy.

If I ever successfully opened a bakery of my own, I would need to be flexible and be able to create goodies for everyone. One of these days I was going to take some classes on gluten free baking, because I really felt eating gluten free shouldn’t be a punishment or consolation prize.

A nagging noise broke into my internal debate as to whether or not blueberries would be appropriate for a summer version of the cookie. It took a while for it to fully break through to my brain. Apparently someone was at my front door. That really surprised me, because it wasn’t as if I had a bunch of people I hung out with. I mean, I’d already seen Bryn recently, and I had no real work friends.

It took about three tries to hoist myself off the couch because my legs had stiffened up. Perhaps allowing myself to remain completely immobile for two hours after my ten mile run was not the best idea. Yes, I was telling myself that it had been ten miles. It was probably more like one and a half. I would just claim to have accidentally moved the decimal place if I were ever called on it.

“Hold on, I’m coming.” I shuffled my feet one in front of the other as I made my way to the front door. It took me longer than I would ever care to admit, considering that it was a really small apartment that opened from the front door into the living room.

As I opened the door my legs almost gave in. I found myself staring down at a pair of beat up work boots, then slowly I moved up to a pair of jeans that were worn in all the right places. I continued my lazy perusal of whoever this was who had been dropped at my doorstep like manna from heaven, thoroughly enjoying the hint of muscle behind the plain t-shirt. I got to this gorgeous being’s face and was surprised by this strange feeling that I’d seen him before. He was all sorts of my type, ink black hair, five o’clock shadow and milk chocolate eyes that mirrored my look of surprise. Maybe I’d flirted with him at work. That was a strong possibility. I’d flirted with a lot of guys at work.

“Vicki?”

What. The. Hell? My head pulled back out of instinct as I squinted at him, trying to place the face, the eyes, the voice.