Annihilate Me (20 page)

“I
know this is selfish, but I’m glad you’re home.”

“Miss
me?”

“More
than you know.”

“I
missed you, too.
 
More than
you
know.”

She
looked slyly at me.
 
“What else are you
missing?”

“If
you’re talking about my virginity, it’s history.”

“I
knew it!
 
Spill.”

I
told her everything.

“You
did it on the beach?”

“We
did.”

“But
you could have been caught.”

“It
was a private beach.”

“Who
are
you?”

“Apparently,
someone who is tired of being me.
 
Or, at the very least,
that
side of me.
 
Not the root of who I am.
 
I’d never change that for anyone.
 
But he’s awakened something inside of
me.
 
That’s for sure.”

“What
was it like?”

“After
the eighth or tenth orgasm?”

“In
one night?”

“No,
between those two days, silly.”

“Poor
baby.”

“Nobody’s
frowning here.”

“How
was he?”

“I
have nothing to compare him to, but I’d say he knows exactly what he’s
doing.
 
It was wonderful.
 
I’m glad that I waited as long as I
did.
 
It made it more meaningful,
especially because he knew that at my age, I wasn’t giving myself away
lightly.
 
He understood that, and he
respected it.
 
But now things are
weird.”

“How
so?”

I
told her about guards appearing out of nowhere and all that unspooled from that
moment, which culminated in us leaving Maine five days sooner than expected.

“Something’s
going on,” she said.
 
“Did he tell
you what it was?”

“Not
a word.”

“Why?”

“I
don’t know.
 
Maybe it’s
private.
 
I’m a private person, so I
respect his privacy.
 
And we’ve only
been together a short while, so he really owes me nothing, especially went I
won’t commit to being his girlfriend.
 
Am I worried for him?
 
Absolutely.
 
Has it affected
my mood?
 
Sure it has.
 
Am I disappointed that I wasn’t able to
spend the full seven days with him?
 
Yep.
 
But that’s just me
being selfish, which I pretty much need to get over if we’re going to be
together.”

“When
are you seeing him again?”

“I
told him that once I had proofed your book, I’d be available to see him.
 
There are two people in my life,
Lisa—you and him.
 
I’m not
going to let you down.”

She
took a sip of her martini and turned to look at me on the sofa as she tucked
her legs beneath her slender body.
 
When she spoke, her tone was serious.
 
“Jennifer, if you continue on with him,
we’ll still be best friends until the last zombie drops, but you need to be
realistic about this.
 
I am.
 
I know that if you two become closer, I
will have less and less time with you, just as you had with me when I was
involved with my hideous exes.
 
And
I’m fine with that because it makes me happy that you’ve finally found
someone.
 
Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll
never not worry about you.”

“Fine.
 
Then worry about me, but live your
life.
 
You know me.
 
I’m a springboard.
 
And I’m actually feeling that enough
time has passed for me to start thinking about dating again.”

I
brightened at that.
 
“You know, I
asked Alex if he had any friends he might introduce you to.”

“Oh
no you didn’t.”

“Oh
yes I did.”

“Are
they as hot as he is?”

“Who
knows?
 
What I do know is that
good-looking guys tend to hang out with good-looking guys.
 
We’ve seen that time and again.
 
They’re drawn to each other, like a
Chippendale to a flame.”

“An
odd way to put it, but an indisputable fact.”

“He
mentioned one guy named Michael.”

“What
does he do?”

“No
idea.
 
But Alex did say that this
Michael guy is way over the dating scene, and he wants what Alex wants—a
relationship.
 
He’s looking for the
right woman, but not finding her.”

“Sign
me up!”

“Alex
suggested that we four have dinner at some point.”

“I’m
down with it.”

“But
we need to get your book out first.
 
Are you happy with it?”

She
blushed, but she usually did when she spoke about her own work, especially if
she was pleased with it.
 
“I think
it’s good.”

“When
can I read it?”

“You
can read it now on your Kindle.”

“How
can I read it on my Kindle when I haven’t proofed it yet?”

“OK,
so here we go.
 
When Blackwell
arrived the first morning, she saw the manuscript on our old coffee table.
 
Without even asking me, she read a few
pages and asked me if I’d like her to give it to one of the editors at Wenn
Publishing.
 
She said she’d have it
copy edited and proofed with comments within twenty-four hours.
 
And she did—I got it back
yesterday.
 
Whoever she gave it to
was amazing and thought of things I hadn’t thought of.
 
I worked all last night to make changes
and then I uploaded the book late, late, last night.
 
It’s now live on Amazon.”

“Two
days, and the whole world changes.”

“Are
you upset that I didn’t let you read it first?”

“Lisa,
you just had a professional editor edit your book for you.
 
No, I’m not upset.
 
I’m thrilled for you.
 
That just doesn’t happen to most independent
authors.
 
I can’t wait to read
it.
 
How is it doing?”

“Last
I checked, it was climbing the list, so we’ll see.
 
I don’t want to look again until later
today.
 
I just need to chill out
about it now and let it do its thing.”

“I’m
proud of you.
 
That’s a big
accomplishment.”

“Now,
I need to start the next one.
 
As in
tomorrow.”

“And
I need to call Blackwell to thank her for all that she’s done here, and also
for being kind enough to make that happen for you.
 
Give me a second.”

I
went into the kitchen and pulled my phone out of my handbag.
 
I scrolled through my contacts, found
Blackwell’s direct line, and called it.

She
answered on the second ring.

“Jennifer,”
she said.

“Hello,
Ms. Blackwell.”

“I’m
sorry about Maine.”

“So,
am I.”

“I’ve
talked to Alex, and I know he’s determined to make it up to you.”

“It’s
not necessary.”

“Yes,
it is.
 
And we both know it, so
let’s just be honest with each other and leave it at that.
 
How do you like your apartment?”

“That’s
one of the reasons I’m calling.
 
You
have the most amazing taste.
 
I
can’t tell you how unexpected this was or how lovely it is.
 
I know you worked very hard to
accomplish what you accomplished.
 
I
wanted to thank you personally for that.”

“It
was my pleasure.
 
You know I love
style—whether it’s squeezing that ass of yours into couture, or designing
your apartment for you.
 
Doesn’t
matter.
 
It’s in my blood.
 
I couldn’t bear the thought that you’d
end up with some bullshit crap from Crate & Barrel.
 
God!
 
I’m assuming you noticed a few touches
that I had nothing to do with?”

“I
did.”

“He
might be preoccupied now, but he’s thinking of you.
 
You need to know that.”

I
wanted to ask her what was preoccupying him, but I didn’t.
 
That would put her in a tough spot, and
frankly, it needed to come from Alex himself.
 
“I also wanted to thank you for what you
did for Lisa.”

“Also
my pleasure.
 
Those editors over at
Wenn Publishing mostly just sit on their asses and dream about writing their
own books, which will never happen.
 
It’s pathetic.
 
They’re lazy
motherfuckers.
 
I wanted to give one
of them some work, and I have to say that she came through.
 
I hope Lisa was happy with the finished
product.”

“She
was thrilled.”

“Perfect.
 
She’s a nice girl.
 
And by the way, I’m glad you called,
because I was going to call you.
 
Alex has an opportunity to go to an event tonight.
 
He’d like you to join him.
 
Are you free?”

My
excuse to say no had been taken away from me—Lisa’s book was edited and
now online.
 
But I was exhausted and
couldn’t imagine going through the maelstrom of shopping that was required for
these events.
 
I told Ms. Blackwell
so.

“I’ve
got that covered,” she said.

“What
do you mean?”

“Silly
girl.
 
With two dresses behind you,
I now have your measurements.
 
I
made phone calls.
 
I now have a
whole rack of dresses and gowns right here for you.
 
Also, shoes.
 
Wait until you see the shoes.
 
They are divoon, divoon, divoon.
 
All you need to do is come to me at,
say, six tonight, and we’ll find something suitable.
 
Bernie is on standby to do your hair and
makeup because he adores you.
 
And
then you can be with Alex tonight, which I think is important.”

“You
do love to meddle, don’t you?”

“I’m
just encouraging what I believe should happen, Jennifer.
 
There’s a difference.”

“What’s
the event?”

“It’s
a birthday celebration for Henri Dufort.”

“The
businessman?”

“To
put it lightly.
 
Dufort is into
everything, particularly emerging media, which is one of the places where Wenn
wants to grow.
 
Alex has been trying
to get a moment alone with Dufort for months, but the man is so busy, he’s
unreachable.
 
This could be Alex’s
moment.
 
He thinks you might be able
to help.”

“He
didn’t mention any of this to me this morning.”

“That’s
because he didn’t know anything about it until he got back.
 
Naturally, he’s going to the party.
 
He has to.
 
He said he’d like you to go with
him.
 
Will you?”

“Why
didn’t he call me himself?”

“He’s
busy right now.
 
Will you come?”

“I
work for Wenn,” I said.
 
“Of course
I will.
 
I’ll see you at six.”

“Thank
you,” Blackwell said.
 
“And
Jennifer.
 
Don’t you dare eat
anything before you get here.”

“I
was considering a bag of chips.”

“If
you do, I will personally get in my car—”

“—and
eating a large pizza—”

“—and
drive over—”

“I’m
just joking.
 
I’ll see you soon.”

I
hung up the phone and stood in the kitchen.
 
And the day just keeps
getting stranger
,
I thought.

I
told Lisa what was happening, grabbed my martini, went into my bedroom, and
started the computer on the desk that faced a window overlooking the Park.
 
Once online, I Googled everything I
could about Henri Dufort.
 
And as I
read article after article, what I learned about him and his media empire not
only gave me insight into the man and what drove him to create his empire, but
also into possible ways for Wenn to partner with him—if the right kind of
deal was struck in such a way that it appealed to Dufort’s beginnings as a
young entrepreneur.