Whispering Wishes (20 page)

“I disagree, but please continue.”

“Well, I poured some of the wax from the lit candle onto his chest.
At first, it seemed like he really liked it and it was fun.”

He puts his head in his hands, as if listening to this is physically paining him.
“But?”

That makes me smile
; it’s the same thing Mischa said to me. “But, he bumped my hand and then I spilled wax on his dick.” I spit it out all in one sentence.

He looks up at me
. “What? I didn’t catch that.”

“He bumped into my arm when he sat up.
Let’s just say that screaming you heard? It wasn’t from pleasure.”

“You burnt his dick off?”
He looks at me in absolute horror, his hand automatically covering his own crotch in reaction. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it.

“I didn’t burn it off!”
I exclaim. “God, I hope not. I mean, there wasn’t much there to begin with if he lost any of it as a result, then I am really sad for him. That would be awful; I mean there wasn’t much to work with to begin with. Oh God, I bet he would really hate me then.”

Wes just stares at me expressionless for a full minute.
Suddenly, his shoulders start shaking, and his chest is heaving like he’s trying hard to hold it in. But, he can’t and eventually, he absolutely loses it. He laughs. He laughs so hard the veins in his neck stand out. And new ones I’ve never seen pop in his forehead. So hard that he actually lies on the ground, and starts pounding his hands on the floor next to him. Over the top much?

I stand there with my hands on my hips
, looking at him with a frown. I don’t find this funny - I mean the man was injured. It’s likely he had to go to the hospital. It’s not funny.

I stand there and stare at him for a moment but, when he can’t compose himself enough to even speak to me, I take my coffee from the table and refill it.
I put more sweetener and milk in my cup again, and he continues to carry on the whole time.

“Can’t… breathe…oh…. God….can’t…breathe.”

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“You…burnt….his…dick…that’s…the…hollering…and…screaming… I heard.”

“Yep. He was screaming in absolute pain. I tried to clean him up, but when he got dressed, it only seemed to be more painful for him. I got him some ice and offered to drive him to the hospital, but he declined.”

Wes starts laughing all over again, making me roll my eyes.

I pick up my coffee and walk out of the room, his hysterical laughing following me all the way upstairs. I need to get ready, as I’m due to work at Mischa’s store today. Hopefully at some point he can regain his composure, so I can ask him to bring me to my car. It isn’t looking very promising at the moment. Joy.

When I walk
into Mischa’s store to begin my shift, Wes’s laughter is still reverberating in my head. He laughed the whole drive to retrieve my car. He would calm down, only to start busting out in laughter again. I just gave him a “Really?” and got out of his car.

As soon as I walk into the store, Mischa smiles and gives me a hug.
“How are you doing?”

She then offers me a couple of candles, with a smile ---or smirk.
Luckily, I love her.

“Hardy har.
I’m fine. I’d just like to forget about it for the time being. What are we going to do today, boss lady?” I quickly decide that changing the subject is the best bet, because I really don’t want to get her started on the burnt peen situation again, which is what I’ve dubbed it in my mind.

“Well, I thought I would show you how to work the cash register and the credit card machine.
I know you don’t need any instructions on how to balance a drawer, or running the credit cards, because of your banking background. If it’s different than what you’re familiar with, or I’m just plain wrong, we can go over that as well. The rest is easy. For now, it’s just being here, ringing up sales and unpacking the occasional box that comes in.”

“That sounds way too easy.”

“Well it is, and as we go, we’ll introduce things, like bookkeeping and ordering stock and all that. But, I have all that under control for now, so there’s no need to get into it right now.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.”

Mischa takes me through everything and I’m readily feeling comfortable, able to understand the easy inventory control approach used. She shows me the back stock room, which I’ve been in before, though I’ve never bothered looking at how she has items organized, stocked, and labeled. Her system is simple: as she takes an item out of stock to bring to the front, she marks it off on a sheet she’s made for inventory tracking. No computer or complex processes. Other than that, she shows me a few inventory vendor websites she visits to check out the new merchandise they are constantly getting in.

“I’d really love for you to go through some of the sites during the down time.
As a newbie that isn’t gungho into this stuff, your opinion is very valuable.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because things that would interest you, would likely interest others in the same situation. People just wanting a little trinket perhaps, or maybe a beginner purchase where they want to test the items out first without spending a ton.”

“I like that idea.
Sounds fun and like I’ll really be contributing.” It excites me to think that I can offer suggestions to her to impact not only her inventory, but also her sales.

Later, she brings a box from the back and sets it on the counter
. “We need to label all of these,” she picks up some new necklaces that each hold a different crystal, “with the price tag here.” She points out the little tags that we will write the price on before attaching them to the necklace chain. “I’m selling them each for thirty-five dollars, because I like to make at least a seventy-five percent profit where I can.” She pushes a hanging rack to me. “Then, please put them on this display stand and find a place in the store where they will attract customer attention.”

“Okay, sounds easy enough
,” I tell her with a smile.

I get started on the job and am so caught up in my task that it startles me when I hear the chimes ring above the door announcing someone’s arrival.
A girl that I estimate to be in her twenties comes in and I cheerfully call, “Hello!” She returns the greeting and browses around the store. Mischa leaves her to browse for a bit before going up to her and asking if she’s looking for anything in particular. I like that. She isn’t too overbearing. She let’s them do their thing first. I watch closely, so I can be sure to use the same methods when I talk with a client. Not that it’s rocket science, I just don’t want to do something that Mischa wouldn’t like.

It turns out the customer is just browsing, but she ends up buying a few items.
I ring up her purchases quickly and efficiently. I can do this - no problem.

When the girl leaves, I decide it’s as good a time as any to finally talk to Mischa about the doomed list of wishes
. “So, I’m ready to talk about the wishes you talked me into making and the fact that rather than the universe smiling and helping, I feel like I was set up for disappointment and failure.”

Mischa frowns
. “First of all, I would never suggest you do anything that I think wouldn’t be beneficial for you and you know it. I know you’re joking, on some level, but that’s hurtful. You know me better than that. I would never purposefully hurt you.”

“I know that.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest you would ever purposefully hurt me. I’m just really in a rotten slump and I guess it’s getting the best of me.” Open mouth insert foot.

“Second of all, you are looking at all of this entirely wrong.”

“No way. There is only one way to look at this. I made a list of wishes like you told me to, reflected on them and everything just like you said. Ever since, it seems like everything in my life has been going wrong.”

“Because all you are seeing is the negative, you aren’t seeing the positive things at all.”

“The positive things? Mischa, has being around so many crystal influences gone to your head and made you crazy? My car broke down; I lost my job; I fell on my face in front of a guy I like; the guy I like doesn’t like me; I had a blind date from hell and while my sexual goddess came out – the goddess apparently had a bad day and burnt his peen. I lost my house, I danced on a corner dressed like a chicken… the list goes on! I mean what the hell else can go wrong? Oh God, I probably shouldn’t even say that because I just jinxed it. Great! The ceiling is going to collapse on my head or I’m going to get struck by lightning now!”

“First of all, as far as Wes?
You are wrong about that.”

“Wrong how?” I ask
, thinking she’s crazy if she thinks differently.

“We’ll get back to that.
First, look at it this way… big boobs getting the promotion, I know it sucked but it led to you ultimately quitting a job you endured more than liked. Admit it, it paid the bills but it wasn’t like you were jumping out of bed to run into work each morning.” Before I can respond, she continues, “Your car broke down yes, but look what happened as a result, you ran into Wes and started a new friendship. You’ve now moved in with him, and had a place to go to when you lost your own.”

“Yeah and what about that?
The fact that I lost my house, how do you find the good in that?”

“Easy.
I know you thought that your landlord was going to end up selling the house to you, but honestly, I think she just told you that as a way to keep you as a renter. I think she never had any intention of doing so because you brought in income for her, and once she quit renting it to you that would stop.” I start to interrupt with a comment, but she holds up a hand to stop me, “I know she told you that she only wanted you to pay to cover the cost of the mortgage, but I’m willing to bet that’s not the entire truth. And now you have the chance to save some money, and find a house you really want to live in.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, there.”

“Now you’re blind date,” a smile lifts her lips and it turns into a full blown grin before she stifles it and continues, “I know that it didn’t end well….”

“That’s a freaking understatement.”

She giggles. “But, it got you out dating again. And even though your sexual relations didn’t go as planned,” she wags her eyebrows at me when I laugh at the term she uses, “for just a moment, your inner sex goddess was unleashed and it felt good, didn’t it?”

I smile before I can think better of it
. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

“I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured or wished for things to happen, but they really are all working out in the end.”

“Maybe you might be right,” I admit begrudgingly. “What are your thoughts on Wes? What were you going to say about him?”

“Aspen, that boy likes you and he likes you a lot.”

“What? He does not!”

“He sure as hell does.
You don’t see the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking. He looks not only amused by you, but enamored. Like he can’t get enough. And he flirts with you all the time.”

“That’s just his personality, Mish.
He flirts with everyone.”

“Not like he does with you – and tell me, what did he do when he saw you last night on your blind date.
You went to D’Vine you said, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.
And Wes didn’t care. He had girls surrounding him and was having a good ‘ol time.”

“But he’s never done that before, right?
The couple nights you’ve worked there so far, was that a normal thing?”

“Well, no.”

“So, he didn’t do that until he saw you with someone. Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, he could really like you and he was trying to make you jealous?”

“I don’t think so.
That seems like a reach.”

“Tell me this… have you seen him yet since he saw you with a date last night?”

“I sure as hell did, and he was an asshole.”

“How so?”

“He actually asked me if I could keep things down with my lovers in the future, that he didn’t need to hear us get it on.”

“Okay hold on to Buddha, does that sound like a comment coming from a guy that’s just a friend?
A guy that doesn’t care about the fact that you are dating someone that isn’t him?”

“I guess not.”

“Aspen, I love you but open your eyes, woman. It’s as clear as day. He was jealous last night. I mean come on! The man asked you to move in with him! He gives you a ride in the rain, stops by your house to see if you need anything the next day, always talks to you at the bar when you go in dropping whatever else he may be doing. Hell, he even got you a job at the bar! He also helped you move and rented a freaking U-Haul truck. I mean, I think it’s time to get you into the clarity classes I’ve been telling you about because you aren’t seeing things that are right in front of your damn nose, let alone what the universe may be telling you.”

I stare at Mischa wanting to laugh a little at her rant, but also taking in everything she said.
I’ve been telling myself that there is no way he can like me because nothing else in my life is going the way I wished it would, but then I think about the way Wes’ face looked when I walked into the bar last night. He dropped what he was doing and started walking towards me with a look in his eyes… was it desire? Need? Want? He took over the table from the other waitress and even though he was supposed to work another couple of hours assuming he was being truthful, he left and came home. Why?

“I guess when I think about it, I can see what you’re saying, but it could also be just like I said.
Brotherly affection.”

“Maybe, but I think you should test that theory.”

“Test it how?”

“You’ll figure something out,” she says with a wink.
Then she looks at me, and the door, and then back again, her smile widening just as I hear the tinkling indicating someone is walking inside. “Speak of the devil.”

I turn towards the door and see Wes has just walked through it.
When he sees me, his smile lights up his whole face. He’s wearing low-slung jeans like always with a tight black t-shirt and biker boots. He looks hot as hell. I look past him and see a motorcycle sitting at the curb. I want to swoon right then and there. Instead I play it cool. “Well, well, well… look who finally quit laughing long enough to actually do something today.”

I watch him swagger up to the counter and feel turned on by the confidence emitting from him.
He’s the kind of guy that doesn’t have to try to be cool, he just is, and he wears it well. I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to touch him. I almost ache with it. I wish he was mine. I would love nothing more than to give him a hug or kiss hello. To run my hand through his hair again and to see if his lips feel as soft as they look. Shit, I realize I’m standing there like an idiot staring at his lips. I look over to Mischa and she’s smirking knowingly. I want to roll my eyes at her, but control myself.