Thanksgiving hade and gone with no word from Dom. Oh, wait. There was. Kind of. Two days after he’d sessfully rearranged my insides with his massive cock, I received a call from a furniturepany for the delivery of a new mattress.
What was a girl to expect? A booty call that weekend, right? I shaved, I pussyndscaped, and I endured a hair and hand mask. My hair and hands suffered the most from my job as a cleaner and now as a nursing student. Constant handwashing was a killer on the skin, especially when it was thirty degrees with low humidity.
But it was now the first week of December and still no word from Dom. There was no response to the message I sent informing him of the mattress arrival. Maybe I hade on too strong and was too expectant.
I brought up the message.
Me
Mattress was delivered and signed for. Are you ready to wreck it?
I winced. Maybe that was too forward. I never angsted over my regr hookups. How was it so different with Dom? Maybe because on Thanksgiving when I’d been hanging out with Harriet, she shoved her tablet under my nose to show me an article of Dom escorting a gorgeous brte to a holiday g.
“Hey, isn’t this the guy who brought in my groceriesst week?”
I nced nonchntly at it. “Could be.” It didn’t really bother me then. Our boundaries were clear and he wasn’t just anyone. He had responsibilities, including attending events with women who could never be me. But we agreed to be honest. I decided a month was the max I’d wait to hear from him before I followed up my text to tell him I was moving on. In no way was I giving him an ultimatum. That was never my style. In my opinion, if a man really wanted to be with me, he’d make time. I was giving him the courtesy of that time because he was the head of an organization and also knew the De Lis were family oriented, most especially around the holidays. In retrospect, we should have set a time limit for how long we would wait with no contact.
Dammit. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have started anything with Dom. Thest thing I needed was to obsess over a single text message. I despised how I put myself in this position.
If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be in this funk, feeling so alone during what was supposed to be a festive time of the year. I was d Harriet had her mahjong buddies. She was actually having a game tonight. As for Billy, I hadn’t heard or seen a peep out of him since that night Grigori called me.
I didn’t want to flunk this semester. Next semester would be myst. Since my Capstone proposal failed, I was looking for a preceptorship in the ER, which was why I needed to ace these tests. Grueling clinical rotations would start on Monday as part of my final exams. Maybe I should have fun this weekend.
Mind made up, I shot off a text to Bianca and asked if she wanted to go clubbing or to a bar. She became the point of contact for the girls’ night after Sera had given birth. She immediately responded that they were having a family dinner. Bianca even invited me over to the De Li mansion to join them.
Hell no.
And it really sucked. Because if I didn’t worry that Dom would be there and think I was stalking him, I would jump at the chance. Bianca and her mom were fantastic cooks.
And as if that weren’t enough of a bummer, I’d also started my period. The cramps were creeping in, but I was determined nothing was going to stop me from enjoying myself tonight. After my shower, I piled up my hair and dragged out my train case with my rarely used makeup. Setting it on top of my tiny bathroom counter, I flipped it open. Four identical photographs spilled out.
I stiffened. I forgot about those. They were in apartment behind the mirror of the train case. Someone sent them to me. A reminder that I was trash. A reminder that my dad leaving us wasn’t the worst thing that nearly left my mother and me living on the streets.
No. It was my sixteen-year-old self who thought my pretty green eyes and my beautiful face had the right to dream big.
It was that woman with the emerald ne who taunted me to try it on, saying I’d look like a princess wearing it, only to turn around and use me of theft.
Even to this day, I scorned my eyes and their reflection in the mirror because it reminded me of that ne.
Well, fuck her. She had no control over me anymore. I should have thrown those pictures away, but now and then, I used them to remind myself not to get toocent. To know my ce in society. That I could be sessful as long as I was realistic about the limitations of my position.
Tonight, I was going out for me, and I was going full-out m. It took a while to give myself a blowout. I wore a flowy ck dress that hit mid-thigh and pulled on my thigh-high boots which were too pricy to use but once or twice every season. Another reason to put them on.
Ginger appeared behind me.
“Oh, you’re back?” I sassed her. She’d been gone for two days to God knew where, probably bugging another neighbor since the premium cat food Dom bought ran out. “Well, I’m going out. You’re on your own tonight.”
She made a tiny chirping sound. “Oh, is that approval?”
Another tiny meow.
I breathed in augh. “You’re pushing me out the door? Was I looking so pathetic and that’s why you abandoned me?”
“Meow.”
“I wasn’t,” I said. “I was busy, too. You know he’s the boss of a big organization and he’s probably swamped.”
Ginger turned away and walked into the living room.
“I’m not making excuses for him!” I yelled at my cat. Grr…
Before I lost the will to leave, I grabbed a bolero jacket from the closet and marched out the door. I furiously descended the steps as if the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels, ready to drag me back to my apartment. There was nothing more I wanted than to curl up on afy couch and stream a new season of True Detective, but there was also that defiance burning inside me, telling me I was an independent woman who needed no one to be happy.
My eyes blurred staring at the blinking lights decorating one of the residents’ doors at the bottomnding of the first floor. Thendlord should ban that. It looked tacky.
I was behaving like a scrooge. Christmas lights were supposed to be tacky. That was why there were tacky light tours.
I was still ring at the lights when I rounded the staircase and mmed into a wall.
Or rather, the bulky chest of my neighbor.
“Whoa there, doll, where’s the fire?” Strong fingers gripped my elbows, and I stared up into concerned brown eyes.
I usually saw Phil in suits or in gym attire, but his tie was off, and his dress shirt was partially unbuttoned like he was unwinding from a long day at work.
“I need a drink,” I muttered.
“You have a date?” His brow shot up.
“No. I don’t need one to go to a pub.”
I realized he hadn’t let go of my elbows and I was still stered to him. Embarrassed and a little sad that I had zero lusty reactions to him, I stepped back. Besides, I wasn’t ready to get over one hookup by getting under another one.
“I’m sorry for not looking where I was going.”
“No problem.” His eyes gave me an appreciative once-over. Heat crept up my cheeks. It was not the kind of leering that made my skin crawl. It was even respectful and oddly ego-boosting, especially with my pity-party-of-one earlier.
“Meeting friends, then?”
His probing questions were making the air between us awkward, so I gave him a small smile and said, “I need to go.”
I was on my way out of the vestibule when Phil called out, “Wantpany?”
Phil was goodpany. We ordered a ride and headed to the waterfront. We ditched the first pub we went to because it was crowded with holiday revelers and hopped to another, where we managed to grab a table and actually got our drinks within twenty minutes. Beer for him, and a fancy crème br?lée martini for me.
With booze loosening my tongue, the tightness across my shoulders also rxed.
“So that guy a few weeks ago…he’s your boyfriend?” Phil asked.
“No, just a friend,” I said.
Phil took a sip of his beer. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. Not that I cared. “So, going anywhere for the holidays? You’re not from these parts, right?”
“Actually, I am,” he said. “Rochester. Dad was an ountant; Mom was a schoolteacher.”
Oh, we were sharing that now? “Was?”
“They died in a car ident.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “That was twelve years ago. My sister and I got by. An aunt took us in and I was already in college.”
I tried to do a mental calction, but Phil smiled. “I’m thirty-two.”
“Well, I’m twenty-seven.”
“I thought you were younger.”
“You know, I’m at an age where I’m not sure if I should take that as apliment or an insult.”
Phil shook his head and grinned into his beer. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” I deadpanned. “Where’s your sister now?”
“California…soooo, I might not see her and her family this Christmas since it’s time to hit quota for my job…”
“You said you were a sales agent…”
“Software.”
“Oh, ha…” Iughed. “I was thinking something more tangible.”
“Network security software.” He noted my wide-eyed expression, and it was his turn tough. “No, not the one that almost brought down the.”
“Geez, it’s so scary nowadays that our lives are dependent onputers.”
“How about you? Any siblings?” He probably knew by now I had no parents.
“Well, you’ve met Billy.” My brother at least helped me clean out Harriet’s apartment in time for Phil to move in.
“I haven’t seen him around.”
“Oh, he’s around.” I drained my martini. And I prayed Billy left me alone until Christmas. I was sure he was going to show up and ask for money. At Phil’s inquisitive eyes, I gave him more information just so I could get it off my chest. “Our dad left when I was fourteen. Billy took it hard. Mom took it harder. One could say she died of a broken heart.”
“Oh, wow, I’m so sorry.”
“I just want to put it out there since we’re in a sharing mood, but that’s as far as I’m willing to share.”
“I got it,” Phil said. “We can just gossip about our neighbors.”
I grinned at him. “Now you’re talking.”
My phone buzzed. It was Bianca.<fn1c06> Newest update provided by find?novel</fn1c06>
Bianca
I’m feeling so guilty. Did you find someone to hang out with? I cane overter with wine I stole from Dad’s cer.
Bianca…so sweet. I smiled and typed back.
Me
I’m fine. I have a hot guy with me.
You’re just trying to make me feel better.
I’m really fine.
I wish you hade over for Thanksgiving.
I told you I had to be with Harriet. Now hush, I’m being rude to Phil.
Phil? There really is a guy?
You really think I’m that pathetic to make one up?
Proof or I don’t believe you.
I burst outughing.
“What’s going on?” Phil asked, his mouth twitching in amusement.
I swiped the tears from my eyes. The evening was going better than I expected. Phil provided surprisingly fun, no-pressurepany, and I had good friends who worried that I was alone for the holidays. I guess I was the type of person who wanted to be invited, even when I knew there wouldn’t be any chance I’d ept. Bianca had a lot of love surrounding her, but she was so empathetic, she wanted to share her family with me. Admittedly, I was reluctant to depend on anyone, especially with the way I grew up, asking for favors came with a price. Being around Bianca and her family had shown me what unconditional love looked like. I just wasn’t sure it was meant for someone like me.
I showed Phil Bianca’s text because I was stillughing.
“So I’m a hot guy, huh?”
“You know you are.” I gave him a wink. “But this is still not a date.”
“Lady, I wouldn’t take you to a bar for our first date.”
I stared at the text message. “Should I send her our picture?”
“Sure,” he chuckled. “Don’t want to make you a liar.”
I raised my phone to take a selfie.
“Here, let me do it.” He took my phone and held it up. Click.
We actually looked good together. For some reason, I was pleased.
I sent it off to Bianca.
Me
There, happy now? Can you rx so I can rx with my guy?
Bianca
Wow. Okay, let me show the girls.
“Hey, can you send that to me?” Phil asked, whipping out his phone. “I’ll send it to my sister so she can quit bugging me to fly to California for Christmas.”
I had him from my contact list because of Harriet’s move and dropped it to him.
Before I set my phone down, I saw a notification of a message from Dom.
This pissed me off. The timing probably meant that he was at the De Li dinner and he saw the picture I sent Bianca. Nothing I did broke the rules. If I had an inkling of attraction to Phil, I would have sent Dom a text ending our arrangement.
Dom could fuck off.