Filthy Gorgeous (28 page)

I scoff. “Then what do you want me to say?”

“Just say that you’re happy for me.”

I take a deep breath. I’m trying to be happy for her. Really, I am. Look at my smile.

Nope—I’m not fooling you, am I?

Remember how much pain I was in when Jockass sucker punched me? That’s how I feel now, but much worse.

Panicking, I try a softer approach. I stalk over to her and rub my thumb over her cheek. “Ella, I know you want to put that douchebag behind you, but isn’t four thousand miles a little excessive?”

She wraps her silky hand over mine. Her voice is firm now; determined and unwavering. “Alex, I’ve given it a lot of thought. I spent so many years following Tyler around the country. Game after game, I put my own dreams, my own career, on hold like an obedient Stepford Wife. He screwed me over, and I let him. From this day forward, I’m putting me first.”

I turn my back to her. “When do you leave?”

“A week on Tuesday. Carrie is organizing a farewell party on Saturday evening. It’s just a few drinks, nothing crazy. I hope you’ll come. I really want you to be there.”

She slips her arms around my waist, but I’m not going to return her affection.

Why?

Two words: Male pride.

It’s our downfall. Our fragile, adolescent egos can handle anything but rejection. It’s too painful. So we reject your rejection. It’s self-defense. If you let someone hitch a ride and they shit all over the passenger seat, would you shake their hand and allow them back in the vehicle?

Of course not—you’d hit the accelerator without as much as a backward glance. I stand in brooding silence.

I’m in a trance-like state.

Shocked.

And when I turn around, I find Ella has gone

Chapter Nineteen

After Ella left my apartment, life got surreal like I was trapped in a damn Salvador Dali painting. I went for a run to clear my head … straight to the nearest bar.

Tell me, what do you about the mating ritual of fruit flies? Nothing—just as I expected. Anyway, male fruit flies try to court a female by nuzzling her genitals and serenading her by buzzing his wings.

Sounds like heaps of fun, right?

It is, but only if he succeeds.

If he fails, he does what most men do after they’ve been rejected; he gets drunk and uses alcohol as a balm for unfulfilled desire.

The average lifespan of a fruit fly is ten days. If I drink anymore scotch, I won’t even live that long.

Don’t roll your eyes.

You think I should have gone after her instead? Told her that I’m so hot for her that I could combust? Shy of getting her ass tattooed on my forehead, I don’t think I could have made myself any fucking clearer.

Newsflash: Ella Bryant knows I like her.

And she’s still leaving.

I’m not going to beg her to stay, but imagine for a second that she does. We date. We’re blissfully happy. Flash forward two years and the honeymoon period is over. Every time we argue, I’ll be the guy who killed her dreams.

At every perceived slight, her long-lost Parisian fantasy will be resurrected and used as an emotional weapon. She’ll remind me that she could have spent her best years sitting in a café next to the Seine while reading
Madame Bovary
, or bucking in pleasure while an Oliver Martinez look-a-like uses her pussy as a champagne flute.

Ladies, it’s over.              

I was her good-time guy. Her fuck-stick. That’s all. End of. Case closed.

Au revoir harem.

Goodbye, monogamy, make sure you kiss my ass on your way out of the door.

It’s time to move on.

I don’t need your sympathy; my happiness and my misery are my own. From this day on, I’m all about the casual hook-ups. The only thing I’m putting out there is my dick.

Got that?

Great.

***

I’m on my way to Ella’s leaving party.

It would be rude to let her leave without saying goodbye, don’t you think? I figured this is for her benefit, really. She can have some closure and enjoy Paris, safe in the knowledge that she’s already been replaced. That’s why I brought a plus one. Do you remember the sexy girl from the coffee house? The smoking hot brunette with the enviable rack who goes by the name of Kelly?

Well, here she is. What do you think of her tight electric blue bandage dress? It won’t fail to draw attention.

And if Ella’s jealous?  So be it.

Kelly squeezes my arm. “I’m so excited to meet your friends!”

I smile benevolently as we walk through the door of the bar. We’re more than two hours late. I planned it this way, to leave Ella hanging. To make her wonder if I’ll show up.

The whole gang is here, plus a bunch of people I’ve never met before. They must be her colleagues. I straighten the collar of my thousand dollar shirt and make my way over to the group.

From the corner of my eye, I can just make out Ella. She’s sitting in the corner. I make a big show of greeting everybody but her. Cruel? Sure, but attraction is a commodity. You have to use it to your advantage. What’s the best way to make a beautiful woman go crazy with regret that they ever decided to flick you aside?

The answer’s quite simple: ignore them. Pretend they don’t exist.

The opposite of love isn’t hate: its indifference.

Ladies, I’m going fishing. I’ll start with a small hook. If she feels anything at all, I’ll reel her in. And if she doesn’t take the bait? I’ll take my rod and go fish in another, juicier pond.

Carrie and Parker stand up as we approach. Carrie’s eyes rake over my date before she glares at me distastefully, like I’m a piece of shit she just scraped off her shoe. I was expecting that. It’s all part of the plan.

Really.

“How did you get here, Slade? Did someone leave your cage open?”

I force a smile. “Hello, Carrie. Great to see you, too. This is Kelly. She’s a barista.”

Carrie regards my date with suspicion. “Really? Which firm?”

Kelly twirls her hair around her finger. “Puccio’s.”

Kelly excuses herself, and heads to the rest room. Carrie yanks my arm and drags me to the other side of the bar. “Hello, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

My voice is stern. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Did you see that? She just flicked my forehead. “Cut the bullshit, Slade. What’s with the whore?”

I scoff and straighten my jacket. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I had a situation vacant. I’ll date whoever the hell I please.”

She gives me the stink-eye. “Nice dress that Kelly is almost-wearing. Why don’t you just go outside and pimp her on the avenue. Just think, you could earn enough money that you won’t need to rely on parental handouts.”

Ouch.
That was below the belt. She waggles her finger under my nose. “I know what you’re up to. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

I snicker. “Hardly. The crow’s feet are a dead giveaway.”

Can you feel the love in this room?

She grits her teeth. “I’d slap you right now, but we’re in public, and I don’t want to be arrested for animal abuse.”

I go to walk away, but Carrie blocks my escape route by digging her heel into my foot.
Jesus Christ
.

“Slade, you can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that? Stop stirring the shit!”

I blink away the pain. “Make me!”

She lunges forward and gives me a nipple twister in full view of the bar. I’m hissing like a punctured tire as she continues to berate me.  “Come Tuesday morning, Ella is stepping on that plane. You’re going to let her go or you’ll have me to answer to.”

“Jesus, you’re insane!”

She clips my ear. “Listen, buddy. I’ve got a national tour coming up, kicking off with an interview on City Radio. Think of the damage I can do to your playboy reputation with an audience a few hundred, thousand women.”

She narrows her eyes and holds her left hand in the air. “I can make you this big, Slade. By the time I’m finished, the only girl in the Tri-state area who’ll want to play with your winky is
you.”

Fuck me.
She’s evil. Parker Harrison must be having some crazy good sex to deal with this psycho’s dramatics on a daily basis.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Carrie. Nobody listens to the radio anymore.”

She flips me the bird.

Charming.

My eyes roll up and I see Ella. She’s with Kelly. They’re talking animatedly.

And laughing.

I elbow Carrie aside and make my way over there.

“Alex!” Kelly greets me and slides her arm around my waist. “Meet my new friend. I was just telling Ella all about you.”

I smile half-awkwardly. Look at Ella’s eyes. Did you notice the way her eyes just glazed over?

Me either.

She’s smiling, like she’s completely unaffected. If she’s faking it, she’s doing a damn fine job. I better wind this up a notch. Play her game. This is going to be tough. I just caught a glimpse of her delicious cleavage; the temptation to sin has never been greater.

Still smiling, she says. “Kelly told me she met you at work, and how much she looked forward to your Monday morning …
exchanges.
”

Is it just me, or is she starting to bite?

I ramp it up a notch. I wrap my arm around Kelly’s shoulder. My tone is serious. “Yeah, Kelly really knows how to roast my beans. I’ve never met anybody quite like her before.”

Did you see the slight raise of her eyebrow? Her lips are pressing together in a firm line. “Right.”

Then she forces a smile.

And I force a smile right back at her.

I’m getting to her. I better add a larger piece of bait to the hook.

Watch.

I close my hands around Kelly’s waist and pull her in. Then I kiss her, giving her a Slade special. It’s full-on, passionate, and leaves her panting for more. For added effect, I allow my curious hands explore Kelly’s voluptuous breasts.

After going hot and heavy right in the middle of the bar for what feels like a freaking eternity, I pull back, eager to gauge Ella’s reaction.

See my face? I’m the one who’s shocked.

Ella isn’t there. My fish has jumped out of the pond. Vanished.

Before I figure out my next move, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I slowly turn around and I’m confronted with the vision of Carrie and Susie glaring back at me. Their faces twist with anger, their eyes aflame with disgust. Worst of all? They’re both holding a pink cocktail in the air.

It doesn’t take a frigging genius to figure out the girls don’t plan on drinking them.

There’s a gasp from the—
and I’m wet
. Fucking wonderful. I’ve been assaulted with my own goddamn cocktail.

I grab a bar towel from the counter and try to wipe away the grenadine syrup that’s seeping through my white shirt. “You’re both freaking crazy!”

Parker and Karl step between us to diffuse the tension. Kelly didn’t escape their attack, either. She’s at the bar, trying to get the alcohol out of her eye.

A deep voice booms from our left. “Hey, princess, got something in your eye? Let me help.” A drunk, middle-aged guy with body odor like a skunk barges through the throng and makes a grab for Kelly’s ass. She pushes him away. Parker steps forward to play the superhero.

What happens next is like a bar brawl from a biker movie.

Watch and duck for cover.

Mr. Stink throws the first punch. Parker dodges and throws one back, hitting him straight between the eyes. Mr. Stinks’ friend, let’s call him Mr. Tattoo, braces his arms in front of his chest and swings at Karl.

And then I see her, standing alone by the entrance to the rest room. She looks straight into my eye, her bottom lip quivers.

Christ, what the hell have I just done?

Now Karl is rolling around on the floor, because Mr. Tattoo just punched him. Carrie leaps onto his back and wraps her legs around his waist as she tries to strangle the tattooed monster. Susie is yanking Mr. Stinks’ hair. A crowd circles around them and cheers the commotion.

At least tonight was a partial success, right? I came here tonight looking for a reaction, and I got it in spades.

Listen, I’d go and help my friends right now, I’m not the kind of guy to back out of a fight, but I’m drinking in last chance saloon. I just saw Ella walk those beautiful legs straight out of the door.

Bolting after her, I leave a trail of bar stools rolling around the floor in my wake. I watch her hail a cab. I’m feeling nostalgic; it’s like our first date all over again.

That’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Ella! Wait!”

She stills on the sidewalk, and then she turns to me.

I expect her to shout. Yell. Scream. Go all Vesuvius on my ass. Throw her frigging shoes at me. Anything to show she cares.