And nothing as likely to see that same man pushed gently aside than a thumping, dizzying hangover like this one.
Jake had taken the refusal well, and helped her with her symptoms. Water, juice and strong coffee helped wash down painkillers before breakfast omelets and warm, fresh, artisanal bread filled them both up. It was only 8:45 by the time she stepped out of the shower, feeling markedly better, but Jake had already returned the Lamborghini, made breakfast and got himself ready for work.
Unwilling to rush someone recovering both from a hangover and from the intensity of their sex sessions – which came eventually to number three, he recalled with a wicked grin – Jake gently helped Megan into her clothes and got them out of the door. His sporty, black Acura waited in his secondary parking place.
“This’ll have to do, I’m afraid,” he quipped as he opened the door for her.
“It’s no Lamborghini, but I’m sure it gets you from A to B.”
She was, it was now certain, going to be quite late for her 10am Pharmacology class, unless she chose to show up in last night’s slinky black dress. New underwear were an absolute requirement, anyway. Dropping her off at her apartment, Jake delayed her for a long kiss before escorting her to her door.
“What can I say, Jake?”
“’Thank you’ is traditional, but I should be thanking you,” he replied. “I can’t believe after all this time that we...”
She put a finger to his lips, the better to avoid his putting their evening into words which would feel only tawdry in the morning’s uncompromisingly clear light.
“Can I call you tonight?” he asked. “I’ll be in New York.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jet-setter... Yes, you may call me. Not too late, though. I think it’s going to be an early night for me.” If she looked as exhausted as she felt, Megan reasoned, then there could be no greater contrast between the stunning girl he had picked up in his Lamborghini last night and this worn-out, next-morning Megan he was depositing back at her apartment. It did nothing to help her feel attractive, but she couldn’t really care less. If this was to be the cost of such a night, then so be it.
“OK.” He kissed her cheek. “Thanks, again. I had a great time.”
“Me too.”
Erica was up and watching terrible morning TV, spooning cereal and intermittently brushing her hair. “Good morning, lover girl!” she said brightly.
Megan padded quietly through to her room, her only gesture a palms-down ‘take it easy’ which Erica correctly interpreted as sure signs of a severe hangover. There were the sounds of drawers being opened and a few curse words, probably linked to Megan’s glancing at the clock, before she emerged wearing jeans and a hoodie with BOSTON STRONG emblazoned on the front.
“Class?”
Megan mumbled something which sounded positive.
“Out tonight?”
This mumble was more negative.
“Need some more Tylenol?”
Megan stopped, checked her bag, found a pack of painkillers, and murmured negatively again.
“OK, sweetie. You go get ‘em. Take it easy, OK?”
Megan kissed Erica’s forehead and made her way down to her car, feeling pretty dreadful. It was only the glow of last night’s sweet excesses which kept her going through a tough, packed day.
***
Della picked up on her fatigue, bringing Megan coffee as she slumped forlornly at their desk in the Pharmacology lab. Megan debated putting on her sunglasses as the sun began to break through the clouds, filling the airy room with unwelcome sunshine.
"Hmm. A big Tuesday night. Let me guess... Someone’s birthday party?”
Megan accepted the cup gratefully and unearthed two more Tylenol from her purse. “No. Would you believe, I was on a date?”
“A what?” Della asked in only half-feigned shock.
Megan swallowed the pills with a grimace. “You know. A girl, a guy. A restaurant.”
Della slid onto the lab stool next to her, her coral tunic complementing her dark, olive skin and accentuating Megan’s morning pallor. “And does this ‘guy’ have a name?”
“Jake.”
Della rubbed her hands gleefully. “Do tell, do tell...”
The coffee was going to make her feel incredibly wired, but there was nothing else for it. “He’s rich, handsome and has excellent taste.”
Della nodded, her attention rapt.
“He picked me up in a friggin’ Lamborghini,” Megan said, trying to suppress a grin.
“What? No, OK,” Della said, head shaking and holding up a hand in protest. “Now I know you’re just... how do you say... pulling my leg? You stayed up late watching a chick flick and drank an entire bottle of wine by yourself. You just don’t want to admit it.”
“That does sound much more like me,” Megan nodded, “but this time I’m totally serious.” She smirked knowingly. “To be fair, though, it was just a loaned Lamborghini...”
“Yeah,” Della quipped. “People lend me those all the time. Anyway, then what?”
“We went to Circus? Do you know it?”