Secret Shopper (14 page)

              I bid my farewells to Thomas. He remembered why he called in the first place and thanked me for my e-mail. I blushed, heat making me feel cramped in the dressing room. I finished dressing and fixed the meanest don’t flirt with me face on. I opened the door. Shawn’s face dropped maybe because I wasn’t in the mermaid get up, and he made a comment, perhaps trying on his machismo for size. He said he was hoping I would model the outfit for him.
Blech!

             
“Dude, how old are you? Like 18? Why the hell would I model it for you? I’m married for Christ sake. Please, don’t let me file a complaint with your manager.” I wondered how much longer I could use the married excuse. I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring anyway. Shawn was stunned by my comments and like a puppy with his tail between his legs he quickly apologized and retreated to the back. Since getting the job at The Lure Company, I had become very vocal about customer service everywhere I went. I was hyperaware of even the smallest slight.

             
The one employee left standing, good old Norm waited at the register. He examined the packaging of the outfit and asked tentatively if I was purchasing it. I offered the right answer and he sighed in relief. I threw in a pair of black frame glasses.

             
Once I got home, I decided to clean up the condo. Although I didn’t feel the need to impress Bradley anymore, I wanted the home to match the new me. Clean, polished and untouchable. Everything needed to be shined and put in place. Rachel called in the middle of my living room dancing and cleaning to Beyonce’s
Single Ladies.

             
“That’s my girl!” Rachel said happily as she heard my new anthem in the background. “Just called to see how you’ve been. I landed safely and it’s back to work for the old girl.”

             
“Just cleaning and enjoying my humongous new Hello Kitty plushy from Thomas.” I wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily, but I was eager to share the news.

             
“See, I knew you two would make a love connection!” 

             
“No, Rachel, no love connection.”
At least not yet
, I thought. “Thomas is very sweet and so awesome on the phone. Oh, and the handwritten note he sent with the delivery was almost poetic, but no, N-O, we are not an item and don’t have plans for that.”

             
“Why not woman?” Rachel whined.

             
I explained that we were friends. It’s unreasonable to fall in love overnight right? I told her about the three hours on the phone last night and the call at the costume shop. Rachel kept insisting that it was more than I was allowing it to be. I drilled in her that I couldn’t even think of Thomas in a romantic way until the divorce was final and I figured out my life. She agreed, finally.

             
Rachel kept it brief and made me promise to torture Bradley again. I finished cleaning up and brought my new toy to bed, the Hello Kitty doll that is. I plugged in my Blackberry by my nightstand and cracked open the latest book I was into. I was more diligent with keeping my phone charged to the max. I didn’t want anything hindering my communication with my new friend, Thomas. Just as I thought this, my phone beeped indicating that I had a text message. I figured it was Bradley texting the flight information. Instead, it was a short text from Thomas with an awesome picture of his profile. His honey hair crested backwards, and he looked like he had a bit of fuzz growing on his chin. His eyes crinkled, his smile wide. I wondered if his sister took the picture.

            
 
Good night, Phoenix Paltrow. I hope we can go cruising someday, just as friends though—no funny business.  Thomas Huey Lewis.

              I couldn’t stop smiling. I hugged my massive white cat tightly and thought of my new buddy. I saved and set his picture as his caller ID. I set the alarm for five in the morning to get in a jog and pick up Bradley. Even with the stressful thought of Bradley’s return. I was ecstatic like a puppy just relieved of her fleas. I had Thomas to look forward to and Bradley to set adrift. In our first day as official friends, Thomas made me laugh and smile and feel wonderful so many times. I drifted into a very peaceful sleep with the image of his perfect profile in my mind.

Chapter 8

Two Coffee Shops and A Boy

              The next morning I awoke with a start. Happiness and dread filled me at the same time, leaving me adrenalized. I felt like nothing would get in the way of my new found exuberance, not even the return of my lying, cheating husband.

             
After my three mile jog and a light breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, I pulled on my pair of dark blue jeans and a flaming red v-neck cashmere sweater. I analyzed my backside for some time. I was still getting used to my new body. It was a bit chilly and I opted for the gray Gucci Janis Tassel boots that Rachel bestowed upon me.

She purchased it when I wasn’t watching and refused to tell me the price. I Googled it when we got home, naturally and insisted that she return the almost fourteen hundred dollar boots.
Astro-freakin-nomical.
She told me to consider it an early birthday gift. My 26
th
birthday wasn’t until next spring, but I protested no more. I threw on a knock-off Hermes scarf from the swap meet and looked at my reflection in the full length mirror. The cheap with the luxurious would balance out my financial conscience. Happy with my look, I didn’t worry too much about what Bradley might think about my lighter hair. Off to the airport to deal with dead weight.

             
I found a seat next to the luggage claims area. There were only a few people waiting. I kept my face buried in my book. I wasn’t in the mood to play flirt today; I’m never in the mood. I had another fifteen minutes to wait for Bradley.

             
The small jet from L.A. pulled into the commuter terminal and I watched as the roughly fifty passengers deplaned. I slinked to the glass window, recognizing Bradley right away. He was dressed in his uniform. The siren and lights of the conveyor belt started up and I saw Bradley’s large green Army issue duffle bag. Bradley was close to the building now and I had to admit he was looking strong and fit. His face was stone cold. He searched the happy crowd that awaited family and friends. I returned to my seat. I didn’t want to give him the impression that I was happy with his return, because I really wasn’t.

             
I watched quietly as Bradley entered and retrieved his bag. In one swift motion, he hoisted it over his shoulder. He marched away from the happy families then paused near me. I stood to greet him, but he glanced at me, half smiled, and then headed away from the waiting area. I blinked a few times before I realized that he did not recognize me. Fifteen pounds and a change in hair color must have thrown him off my scent. I trailed him as he headed to the exit, occasionally scanning his surroundings for me. The old me would have called out “G.I. Joe!” But, my funny bone wasn’t on lease to him anymore.

Bradley crossed the threshold and paused outside the automatic exit doors. I cleared my throat to get his attention. The blast of cold morning air blew my hair back and Bradley turned around to finally look at me, for the second time that morning. I couldn’t have planned the
Hollywood scene any better. The moment when he realized it was me. He stood in place and I remained on the platform opposite him, still in the building. I raised my eyebrows and suppressed my smile. The look on my soon-to-be-ex-husband’s face as the slow realization that I was really me was satisfying to say the least.
Screw it!
It was awesome! Everyone should have this experience once before they die.

The double glass doors closed on us since neither of us moved for several seconds. The approach of happy families and friends reunited with their loved ones snapped us out of the moment. I approached Bradley and his eyes took in my entire transformation. He backed up a few steps and then we both side stepped to let people through. I raised my eyebrows as an invitation for him to say something.

              “Nix?” Was all he could ask.

             
“Yeahhh?” I drew out the word. “Are you ready to go?” I told myself to keep civil and unemotional today. Bradley’s mouth was open, but he didn’t move or speak. Then a retired military gent who looked to be about eighty years old patted Bradley on the shoulder and welcomed him home. Bradley woke up from his trance and saluted the old man. We watched the veteran shuffle away. Bradley dropped his bag on the pavement and opened his arms. My response was to hug myself. I rubbed my arms to ward off the cold. I guess losing my layer of fat made it impossible to keep warm. Whale blubber be gone! I walked towards the parking lot, leaving Bradley with arms wide open.

             
“Let’s get to the car. It’s cold.” I stated matter-of-factly over my shoulder.

             
Several men stopped to let me pass and I took quiet satisfaction as they checked me out in front of
Bradlame
.

             
“Slow down, tiger.” Bradley trotted up next to me, doing his best to demonstrate our togetherness. I quickened my step in answer.

              The drive home was reticent. I remembered the gift from Rachel and directed Bradley to open the CD and pop it in the player for me. He read Rachel’s handwritten Sharpie label,
October of Your Demise
. I told him it was a mixed CD from Rachel and he gave me a knowing smile.

I offered to get Bradley breakfast at a drive through, as
Never Again
by Kelly Clarkson blared. Bradley was distracted, well aware that the harsh lyrics were directed at him, so he pushed the button to play the next track,
Hot and Cold
by Katy Perry blasted.
Click
. Then, the infamous cheating song by Carrie Underwood.
Click
. Pink was the last straw for poor Bradley. He got the point and asked if Rachel made the disc for me or for him. I smiled slyly and noted that I needed to spank and thank that girl. I ended the torture for Bradley and clicked the stereo off.

After several minutes of heavy silence, I was acutely aware that Bradley’s gaze returned to me every ten seconds. I expected him to ask about my hair. I wondered what he thought about the whole situation, the whole me, the better me. I wanted him to know my transformation wasn’t for him, it was for me.

I drove home blissfully, thinking of Thomas.

             
When we got to the condo, I headed straight to my office, keeping the silent treatment going. I wanted to research the upcoming visits for coffee shop evaluations for my work week. On Sundays, I typically did my prelim visits, which were suggested but not required by the company. I didn’t care. I really needed a reason to keep away from Bradley. I grabbed my keys, sunglasses and purse off my desk. I petted my Hello Kitty and jumped at the sound of my name.

“Nix. Headed somewhere? I just got here.” Bradley stood outside my office door, freshly showered. A towel wrapped around his waist drew my eyes. His body was considerably more defined. I averted my eyes and fought the urge to feel anything for him. Bradley pranced around half-naked on purpose. It didn’t matter how clean he got, the fact remained that he dipped his married stick in someone else. He wasn’t going to get the welcome home lay he was expecting.

“Got work.” I said.

             
“Nix,” Bradley whispered. “Can we talk, please?” The smell of his soap and shampoo invaded the office. It invaded my head; it was the same scent he had for the last ten years. Although the familiarity of his smell was albeit home, it wasn’t a home for me anymore. I wasn’t going to get lost in a reverie about him now.

             
I stood behind my desk for a few moments, like it was a shield. His eyes were curiously focused on the large Hello Kitty in the room. “Talk about what?” It was my effort to avoid questions about my new office mate.

             
“First off, about us.” Bradley stuttered, “Ah-about how you’ve been doing in general. I mean, um, you, you look amazing.”

             
“Thanks. I’m fine. You’re obviously flourishing in your Army career.” I kept my voice leveled. “Anyway, we’ll proceed with the divorce like you originally wanted four months ago, now that you’re home for a long enough period to get it done.” I gathered my paperwork and danced around Bradley. His larger, more muscular frame and short Army hair cut were menacing, but the sad bulldog look on his face disarmed me for a second. He planted his left arm on the door frame blocking my exit. His black tribal tattoo quivered from the tension. My eyes flickered to his hand and I saw his gold wedding band still on. I expressed my breath loudly and gave him the sternest face I could muster.

             
“Please, move. I have work to do.” He didn’t budge so I ripped off his towel and flung it out the door and it floated down to the first floor. “Mrs. Yamaguchi is home by the way.” I pointed to the open view of the next unit. Bradley covered his manly parts and I shimmied passed him. As I gamboled down the stairs, Bradley came to the landing exposed, both hands gripping the faux mahogany rails.