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Authors: Mia Villano

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BOOK: Winter In August
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“Sorry, yes, it’s… Melinda.” I need to go. I asked. I had to lie. Gorgeous or not, I didn’t want anyone to know my name in that house.

“I have to be at work today. What time is it?” I continued to babble.

Colt nodded his head at the clock beside the bed and I followed his gaze. It was early but I needed to get out of there.

I turned and headed toward the door. “I gotta run. Nice meeting you, Colt, I guess.”

“Again, do you want a ride somewhere, Melinda? My car is right outside and I can take you anywhere you need to go.” Colt stood in the doorway with his arm resting on the frame. He looked extremely confident in himself and he should. Even in my hungover state, I couldn’t help but check him out. Underneath his suit, I noticed a perfect chiseled body. His chest bulged against his shirt. His legs looked thick and big in his dress pants. I couldn’t help to let my eyes gaze towards his zipper. Taking off his belt with my teeth crossed my mind. I tried to glance away but there was this pull. I was never taken like this by anyone, especially a blonde. I preferred the tall, dark and handsome type. Obviously, looking towards the bedroom, I went for dark and skipped the handsome.

“No, I’ll get a cab. Thanks.” I walked as fast as I could toward the door, and he followed which made me think he didn’t trust me.

Handing me my purse lying on the table, his hand brushed mine and a tingle shot through my arm.

“Thanks.” I slipped on my heels in record time and almost fell over.

He smiled, and I grabbed the door knob minus my new bra. Oh well, losing a brand new bra was a small price I had to pay to get the hell out of a nightmare. I turned around quickly to get one more glance at him before I left. Maybe looking at him would erase the images of Marco from my mind.

“Did you change your mind about the ride?” He gave me a half-crooked smile showing me he had two dimples in his cheeks. Of course, he did. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath as I stared.

“No, I’m fine.” Christ, his voice made me weak in the knees. Peeling my eyes off him, I turned the door handle and headed out the door.

Not surprisingly, Marco lived in the penthouse of an apartment building overlooking Central Park. Searching for the Exit sign as quickly as possible, I spotted the elevator and pushed the button. I stared at the door willing it to open. The elevator ‘dinged’, opened, and I stepped in and hit the entrance floor button. As the elevator descended to freedom, I dug in my purse for the phone. Damn it. I’d forgotten about the dead battery. Shit. I needed to call Harper. The elevator doors opened and I stepped out as quickly as I could, keeping my head down. The downstairs to this building was abuzz with people coming and going. Now, I was doing the walk of shame and my disheveled appearance was obvious to everyone I passed. Half dressed, my hair a tangled mess, and makeup smudged all over my face, I couldn’t get away from the judging stares fast enough.

I stepped outside digging in my purse, this time for my sunglasses. It was still too early, but I wore them mostly to hide my embarrassment. The wonderful sounds of the best city on earth hit me as I looked around for a cab. Horns honked, and sirens blasted in the distance as I waved for the cab screeching to a stop. The driver caught a glimpse of my very sheer blouse and smiled at me as I tried to keep my purse pressed against my chest. The memory of sleeping with Marco made me shudder as I slid into the backseat and told the driver my address. He sped off into the stop and go traffic as horns beeped and pedestrians dodged between moving cars.

Since my home was in Chelsea, I had a few minutes to get calm. I promised myself as I stared out the dirty cab window that was going to be the last time. Sleeping with random men and drinking till all hours of the night wasn’t doing me any good. I needed to settle down and start getting serious.

Closing my eyes, I tried to remember what could have gone wrong the night before. Harper, my roommate, recently came back from Greece, and we decided to go out for a late birthday celebration along with a couple other girls. Some birthday I gave her. We went to Nobu for sushi, Hogs and Heifers for drinks, and afterward, I couldn’t remember a damn thing.
Then it hit me, that’s where my bra was. At Hogs and Heifers, they collect bras, and I remember taking mine off to the cheers from the men and hanging it on the wall.
I danced on the bar with my friends singing, “Whiskey River” with a megaphone, as we did shot after shot of Jameson. Like most nights when I went out, most of the evening was a blur and the previous night was no exception.

In front of the Brownstone, I spotted Harper’s older BMW and breathed a sigh of relief. My roommate and best friend had not left yet. I paid the fare and ran out of the cab searching for my keys to let me in my place of solace. My roommate’s dad bought the Brownstone thirty years ago when he worked and lived in New York City. He let us live there cheap. Three bedrooms, two baths, and a gourmet kitchen; the house was a gorgeous place and one I couldn’t afford under different circumstances. I loved our home, but after leaving Harper for a hookup, I may be looking for another place. I let my best friend down, although she was used to my broken promises.

I had every reason for doing what I did. At least that’s what I told myself. I drank in order to forget and escape. I drank so I wouldn’t go insane. Drinking was my protection from feeling too much when I didn’t want to feel and lately I didn’t want to feel anything.

Chapter 2


H
arper!”
I yelled running upstairs to the bedrooms. Harper was almost never home, usually on an assignment somewhere with CNN. With a job as the lead camera person for one of the main newsmen, she had to be anywhere at a moment’s notice. Soon she would be leaving for another assignment. She wanted to be lead anchor on CNN eventually, and with her looks, intelligence, and experience, her dream would be sooner than she thought.

Standing in front of her closed bedroom door, I knocked lightly.

“Harper, are you there?”

“Gabby?” she asked. Her voice sounded muffled.

“Yeah, can I come in?”

“Yes. Thank God you’re home.”

I opened her door and in the unbearably hot room, Harper was buried under mounds of blankets with her head covered. Always overly feminine, Harper loved flowers, pastels, and white furniture. Her room was filled with fresh flowers she changed every two days, and old vintage pictures of movie stars.

Not me, black was my signature color. I preferred everything black, gray, and a more modern look. She swore that was what caused me to always be sad and make bad choices.

I slipped off my heels and climbed into bed with my best friend who was sleeping on her side. Her blankets always smelled like lavender and vanilla. She popped her head out and sniffed.

“You smell weird,” said Harper.

“Thanks, there’s a disgusting reason. Do you hate me?”

“Yes.” She answered in a dull voice, pulling the covers back over her head.

“I’m so sorry, I’m never, never leaving with a guy. I swear on my life, yours, and the Popes.” She yanked the blankets off her face.

“Don’t swear on the Popes' life. That’s serious, and come on, you know, you’re full of shit,” Harper laughed. She turned around to glare at me. Harper was the opposite of me in looks, attitude, and everything else. Petite, blonde, and quiet, she ate organic, except for ice cream, and she couldn’t stay angry more than ten minutes at someone, especially me. She was a hugger which I was definitely not. She’d had sex with two guys her whole life, and secretly had a crush on our doctor friend, Tieg. She played the violin and loved Michael Buble. She preferred a night in rather than a night out, flats instead of heels, and turtlenecks all year-round. Unlike me in every way, she dressed more conservatively and didn’t flaunt her sexiness.

We’d met when I attended college for a short time in Ohio. Tieg introduced us one night at a party, and we instantly became best friends. The saying ‘opposites attract’ is so true in our case. We fit together like salt and pepper. Harper was the one who saved me when I was at my lowest point. She insisted I come and live with her in New York City and start a new life. I considered her my truest friend.

“Please tell me you remember what happened because I don’t, and I can’t believe where I woke up this morning.”

She glared at me. “I begged you not to go with him. I pulled you away and tried to get you out the back door. You were pissed at me, and so drunk. I was too, but I still had my wits about me and I knew you shouldn’t go with him. He told you he had a Maserati and said he would give you a ride and bring you back home. I knew better.”

“Do you have any idea who he was?” I murmured, hoping she didn’t.

“Marco Fitzgerald. I’m sick thinking of him, Gabby. I’ve been looking at his pictures on the internet. He’s a real pig.”

“He’s the biggest dick head of New York City and possibly the world. I can’t believe I went anywhere with that fucker, let alone had sex with him, twice. The idiot’s always on the news. I hope no one was taking pictures. Do you think they were? I should check the internet. You didn’t see any of me on there did you?” Christ, I was rambling on, throwing myself into a panic.

“No, you aren’t in any of them. Oh, Gabby. You’ve hit a new low this time. Please tell me he wore a condom. The guy’s been around,” sighed Harper sitting up.

“I checked before I left. Harper, I have to stop this. I’m so sorry again. I’ll make this horrific mistake up to you when you get back. That reminds me, I need to take a shower, with bleach, and get to the salon. He did have a lawyer, no a pilot, there this morning taking him to some exclusive location. The jackass mistook me for a prostitute.”

Harper laughed out loud. “Oh, that’s refreshing.”

“I’m glad you find the humor in that. He looked like your type, you know blonde and all perfectly laundered.”

She continued to laugh. “Perfectly laundered? That’s a new one. Was this the first time you’ve been mistaken for a hooker?”

“That’s nice. Yes, as a matter of fact it was, smart ass.”

“You need to go see your doctor. I know you’ve been canceling your appointments.”

“I’m fine. Everything is under control.” I lied, standing and grabbing my heels.

“We’re staying in tonight. I’ll be done with work early, and I’m not leaving until the morning. I don’t want you roaming the bars later. Wait for me and we’ll watch old movies and order from the new organic restaurant. I have a craving for teriyaki tofu. Gabby, are you listening to me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds delicious. Yes, I’m listening. Thanks for not being mad,” I said. Lost in my thoughts, pictures of this guy flashed in my head of him with various models, socialites, and actresses. I had started to worry about what I could have caught. The panic was now setting in once I was in my comfortable surroundings.

“Oh, I’m mad. I just love you to death.”

“Love you too, sweetie.” I blew her a kiss and started to run to the bathroom.

“Hey?” said Harper. I turned around to glance at her.

“I’m being serious now. Are you okay? You seem to be a little off. Is the reason still because of him? I have time to talk you know.” I looked down and shook my head.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just stressed with work and I’ve been going out way too much lately. I need to stop drinking so much. Nothing else.” I lied again.

Chapter 3

R
iding
the subway into work, I was somewhat cleaned up, and calmed down. No matter how bad I felt, I didn’t leave the house without heels and lip stain. I tied my hair in a loose bun and threw on silver bracelets and a simple jersey knit dress. My face was puffy from the night of drinking, and I was bloated.

This had to stop now. Although I’d promised myself the same thing several times before, this time, I was going to make the effort to hold myself to the promise. I was similar to a junkie looking for the next fix, and my fix was a man.

Men were so easy. They were all the same. They might look different, make a lot of money or no money, but all of them had the same idea in mind, to get fucked and fucked well. Getting them in bed was the easy part. I was twenty-six, and I loved having a good time, Janis Joplin, whiskey, and expensive cars. My biggest love was men and good hardcore, ball-slapping sex. In fact, I craved sex and the harder and dirtier to me, the better. I liked to love them and leave them more or less. I was in charge of my life, and it included who I wanted in bed and how often. I had neither time nor the desire for any sappy love bullshit. I’d had romance once, and sappy shit didn’t last. I was determined not to allow myself to fall in love with a guy. I kept a wall up by not showing any emotions and so far the wall has worked. Love caused heartache and took too much time. I had to protect myself from being abandoned or hurt.

I stepped in the salon where I worked to a room full of women waiting impatiently for their appointments. With the location and clientele, the day promised to be very lucrative. The music pumped through the expensive stereo, and Tab smiled at the front desk when I walked in. His job was to be friendly, gorgeous, and approachable and he did his job well.

“Just brewed, Gabs. You’re dripping of hotness this morning.” He air kissed me on both cheeks and handed me an espresso. I knew he was being nice; I was anything but hot that morning. Tab, on the other hand, looked like a million bucks. Once a model for Ralph Lauren, he made anything he wore, look amazing. His muscular, lean body burst out of a tight fitting white shirt, skinny jeans rolled up, and Gucci loafers. To top off the outfit, he had on a bolero hat and, signature eyeliner he wore every day.

BOOK: Winter In August
13.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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