Thursday, July 3, 2008
NO CALLS. NO MESSAGES. No Blake. What a shitty night.
Earlier when I'd come out of the shower, I found Aly watching TV and messing with her phone. I was thankful that I'd had the good sense to put on a towel. It turned out she had my other room key. She looked focused on what she was doing, so I didn't say anything.
I grabbed my clothes and went back into the bathroom to dress. I looked at myself in the mirror. I'd trim my face in the morning. My hair would behave for a while since it was damp. I brushed my teeth and I was ready to go.
I was so excited to get back and finish the night messaging with Blake, or even better—maybe talk to her. She said she might call. I'd hoped that she would.
“Are you ready? I'm hungry,” Aly said already standing and holding her purse as I came back out.
“Yeah, let me grab my phone.” I looked to the bed, then found it on the side table. I pocketed it and my wallet. It was nice to be a man. I had two things I needed and I was ready. Aly stood there with a bag full of shit. It never made any sense to me, the stuff women carried around with them.
We ate at an Italian place down from our hotel and ordered a deep-dish pizza to share. We both had beers and we talked about the next day. We solidified the plan of me going to the meeting and her catching up with us for dinner.
“I think I'll go shopping while you're working. Might as well do something useful,” she joked. “Want me to wear anything special tomorrow night?” I recognized the tone of her voice. So far on the trip, she'd kept everything professional, but now after three beers in, her filter was clogging her real intentions for agreeing to come along on the trip.
“Something business-dinner appropriate. Whatever is fine,” I said, trying not to play into her hand, taking a drink of my beer. I wasn't going to give her the wrong impression. I wasn't interested anymore.
The whole situation was pretty awkward. Dating your co-worker, and boss's daughter, no matter for how short of time, only led to a pain in the ass afterward.
Marc was cool, because he knew I'd been honest with her. I'd been upfront with him about everything.
We finished our dinner and walked back to the Omni. As we passed the bar, Aly looked up at me. She'd been quiet all the way back to the hotel. She asked, “Do you want to get a nightcap before we go up.”
Nightcap. Honeybee.
“No. I better turn in,” I told her. She looked disappointed but kept walking alongside me to the elevators.
“I wish you'd tell me what you want, Casey.” She stared at the doors while we waited for the lift to pick us up. “I'll do anything,” she said. The doors opened. We walked inside and she backed up against the far wall, opposite the doors and faced me.
I met her eyes and saw need in them. I only took a few steps inside and turned to press the buttons, giving her my back. I didn't want to face her. I liked Aly, as a friend, and I didn't gain anything from seeing her want me. Those watery green-eyes begging me to kiss her would be too much to say no to. I am a man. And she was a beautiful woman who only wanted to be with me.
All I'd thought about the whole evening was racing back to my room, to have a QWERTY conversation with a girl who wasn't available. Yet, right there stood a woman throwing herself at me and I wasn't interested.
Maybe I wasn't a man.
The doors opened and I left the elevator with Aly close behind. I could hear her heels click against the floor behind me. I still hadn't said anything to her. What was I supposed to say? There wasn't an argument to be had.
She said what she needed and I didn't need to reply. I walked past her door and stopped at mine to insert the key card. I slipped it in and pulled it out.
Red light.
I did it again and got the same result. The f*cker wouldn't work.
I felt her arms wrap around me from behind and her hands wandered down to the crotch of my pants, her fingers wrapping as far around me as she could through the fabric. She pressed her tits into my back and said, “You can have me, Casey. I know that you don't want a relationship, but that doesn't have to be what this is. I can f*ck you without the label. I don't have to be your girlfriend.”
I pushed my forehead against the door and thought. What was I to do? I wanted to talk to Blake, but there was a woman all but jerking me off through my jeans right there. That second.
I tried the key again. Still, it didn't work.
She removed one hand from me and produced a key from somewhere. She held it between two fingers in front of my face, and I rolled my head across the wooden door to look at it. She pressed her chest harder against my back.
“You'll need this,” she said.
“I have the same key. The lock isn't working.” I really wanted to go inside.
“I changed the keys. I told them we lost yours and these are new. Let me come in.”
“Open the door, please.” I hadn't made a move to encourage her, well—my cock got hard, but I didn't have any control over that—I just wanted in the room. I shifted on my feet and felt my erection move in her hand. It felt good.
I hated that it felt so good.
She unlocked the door herself and let it swing open. I walked in and turned around to see her, standing in the doorway, she looked like a starved puppy. I wanted to feed her, but she wasn't my dog.
I looked at her head on. “You should go to your room.”
“Just tell me what you want. I'll do whatever you like.”
“I want you to leave. I'd like to go to bed.” I walked toward her, growing sick of the situation.
If a woman was followed to her room, and groped, and then the man came into her room uninvited, then that would be grounds for arrest. When a woman did the same thing to a man, well, the man still got to play the part of the a*shole. Double-f*cking-standard.
I didn't care though. I'd been honest with her and now she was getting on my nerves. She was acting pathetically, which was the biggest turn off of all.
I opened the door behind her and stood there, waiting for her to take the hint and go. She loomed there for a second, let out a little laugh and turned to me. Her hair swinging around to her shoulder. She had a totally different look in her eyes. She looked angry.
She came forward, leaving like I'd requested. She stopped in front of me and whispered, “I'd let you call me Honeybee.”
My balls hit the floor. Honeybee. What did she know about Blake? My mind raced, and my adrenaline spiked. Maybe I heard her wrong. My mind was playing tricks on me.
“What did you say?”
“Honeybee. That's what you call your friends, right? You can call me that, too.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.” I made sure not to grab her arm too hard, even though I wanted to squeeze the shit out of it. I guided her out of the room. I didn't even let my fingers wrap around it. I only let my palm push her through the doorway.
As soon as she was past the frame, I shut the door. She still had my key. I'd need to call the desk in the morning and get another one. But first, I needed to figure out how in the f*ck Aly knew about Blake.
She saw her at the party, but I don't think I even mentioned her. I doubt that Micah or Cory said anything to her that night. Besides, that was weeks ago. Why would she choose then to bring it up?
And I never called Blake honeybee to anyone else. It was only in my phone.
My phone.
Aly went through my phone.
Aly switched my room keys.
Maybe she wasn't the pushover I thought she was. She certainly didn't act that way that night. I'd needed to talk to her. That kind of shit was crazy. She was nuts.
She saw what we'd written to each other.
I read through the messages from earlier that day. There wasn't anything to worry about, except for toward the end, it wasn't even that flirty.
I fell asleep that night with an uneasy feeling. Blake hadn't called. On one hand, I hoped Aly had something to do with it, because on the other hand was a possibility it had something to do with Grant. She could still be with him.
I hated that hand most of all.
Thursday, July 3rd, 2008
I killed it at my meetings. Brewster's loved the beer that we'd sent them and was pretty much ready to place orders and get a regular delivery scheduled, as soon as possible. They committed to stocking Bay at their top three locations to see how it went over. Saying that if all went well, they'd be happy to make it a house brew at each of their many establishments. We finished early and had a long lunch at their flagship location downtown.
Bruce and Tom were cool guys. They would be fun clients.
It worked out well. We closed up everything that I'd wanted to accomplish in a day and a half in the sum of a few hours. There would be no dinner.
By the time I'd returned to the hotel, I'd already changed our plane tickets. We were leaving this afternoon. I just needed to let her know. It was probably passive aggressive, but I called Marc anyway.
I'd let him tell her that we were coming back early. I dialed him the minute I got back to my room, and into it with my third room key in two days.
“Hey, Case. How's Chicago?” He laughed over the line. “Did she tank another one?” He continued to chuckle. To this man a spade was a spade. I'd informed him about our Austin meeting and I was sure he'd spoken to Aly, so there wasn't any point in sugarcoating it. We both knew she probably wasn't cut out for sales.
“No. She didn't go this morning, and we actually wrapped up everything. They gave a verbal go ahead and I'll have the office send over the paperwork for their billing when I get back.” The meeting went great, and the deal was well worth the trip, but at that point there was no need for another night in Chicago.
I didn't want to spend another night there like the previous one. I could use a long weekend.
“That's my boy. You're doing great out there. I'm glad we bought the building across the street and went ahead with ordering the new machinery. All these new orders already have us working at maximum capacity. I never thought I'd say that, kid. Hell, I might even get to retire,” he added with a laugh.
“Yeah, you will. Hey, I changed our flights to head home today. Since the deal is already wrapped up, there really isn't a good reason to stick around here.”
“Yeah, that sounds great. You gonna come in or are you taking tomorrow off?”
“I think I'm going to take it off. I've got a big week coming up. Is that okay?”
“No problem. Aly coming back, too?”
“I changed her ticket, but…” I didn't know how to say this, other than to just lay it out there, “I think you should call her and tell her.”
He sounded concerned when he said, “Everything all right?” I didn't want him to worry. Everything was all right. She probably felt pretty dumb about it. I still needed to talk to her about my phone, but I'd have plenty of time on the plane. That conversation wasn't going to be the easiest, so I was thankful we’d be parting ways for a few days afterward.
“It's all good. Aly and I had a disagreement last night. I'd rather you call, if that's okay.” If he called, she wouldn't be able to argue. She switched my key without feeling too bad about it, I supposed I could change our flights and she'd just have to deal with it. Fair was fair.
“Yeah, what time do you fly out?” he asked, thankfully not inquiring for more details.
“Have her meet me downstairs at five thirty, please. That will give us plenty of time.”
He said that he'd tell her and asked again if everything was okay. I hated not telling him the whole story; it probably made it seem much worse than it really was. But I did care about Aly and I didn't want to embarrass her.
I had to get to the bottom of the phone thing though. I almost had myself convinced that she'd contacted her and that that was the reason Blake never called. I still hadn't heard from her. I needed to know if Aly knew why. But I wasn’t confident, if she had done anything, that she'd even tell me.
After my call with Marc, I took my time, cleaned up my things and packed them away, readied myself to go home. I brought my bags down to the lobby. I'd planned on having a drink at the bar until it was time to leave. When I saw that Aly's bags were already sitting on a cart by the reception desk I knew I'd find her doing the same.
She was facing the bar, away from me, when I walked in. I caught her reflection in the mirror that hung behind the glass bottles. She lifted her glass to me when she saw me, too. The bartender, who'd seen me come in, headed in my direction as I sat next to her.
“What are you drinking, Aly?” I said as I perched on the stool to her left.
“Vodka martini. Three olives.” She sounded like she'd already had a few, but it wasn't my business. It might actually work out well for me that she was a little buzzed. Maybe she'd tell me what the f*ck happened.
“Vodka martini with three olives and a Gin and Tonic.” He nodded and busied himself with making the drinks.
“Thanks,” she said, finishing down the last of her current cocktail.
“What happened yesterday?” I went out on a limb with what my gut had been telling me. “What did you say to her?” She audibly exhaled and stretched on her stool.
“So she can't leave you alone either, then? I guess you two talked?” she asked guiltily, looking at me from out of the corner of her eyes. I watched her in the mirror looking straight ahead.
I didn't answer, only thanked the bartender when he placed our drinks in front of us on napkins.
“I didn't think she'd call you back. And I kind of thought that if she did we'd be...you know,” she admitted, catching my gaze in the reflection. I shook my head at her, and gave her a friendly smile. If I wanted to get the real truth out of her, she needed to feel like she could talk. I wasn't about to show her my real feelings. I wasn't about to throw my glass at the wall and scream, because that is what I wanted to do with all my might.
“She said you were just friends and that you could pick who your friends were.”
Atta girl. She didn't take any shit.
“What else?” I quirked a serious eyebrow at her refection.
“Nothing else. I told her to leave you alone.” My mind screamed, She's already leaving me alone! I was angry, I wanted to argue with her, but again, there wasn't anything to argue for.
Then, my fury was doused with relief, I had no claim to Blake, but hopefully, Aly was the reason she didn’t call. Maybe she wasn't with Grant doing things that my mind envisioned for those long hours that I couldn't sleep the night before.
My fingers itched to grab my phone and send her something, but I had to wait. It wasn't the right time.
At that moment, I needed to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with the girl hammering back Vodka martinis.
“Aly, don't do that again,” I told her. “We're friends. We're co-workers. Hell, we're kind of partners. You're smart. You're beautiful.” I turned in my seat, choosing to look at her for real, instead of in the mirror. I wanted to make sure she got the final point. “We're not going to be together like we were ever again. Find a nice guy and be happy, if that's what you want. But don't ever call her again.” Her eyes looked red and she bit her lip. I prayed she'd got the message. I continued, “We don't need to talk about this anymore. Do you want another drink? We have about an hour before the cab comes.” And that's where I left it. That was all I needed to say about it.
“I'm sorry, Casey,” she said, and I let her pay for the next round.
The air felt a lot clearer in the car on the way to the airport. Aly seemed to understand what I'd been trying to tell her. At least I'd hoped she did. We talked about the sale and she was genuinely happy about the deal. She was a little more than buzzed, so she whooped and hollered, even asking the driver for a high-five.
She was feeling no pain for our flight back. I had to make sure they’d let her on the plane first. We'd be making a coffee stop before we went through security. Our cab pulled up to the curb behind a black town car. There was a guy leaning against it wearing a nice suit.
I hopped out of the cab and rounded the back as it popped open to get our luggage out. As I was closing the trunk, I saw a flash of the most perfect color of brown and I looked up.
It was her. It was Blake. I forced the lid down until it latched and moved our bags to the sidewalk. The whole time looking at her as she bounded up to this man. She threw her arms around him and he rocked her side-to-side, embracing her back.
Surely my mind was playing tricks. What would she be doing in Chicago? Who in the f*ck was that guy? Was it him? Wasn't she with him last night? I opened the door of my car, glancing back and forth between my drunk-ish travel companion and what was happening no more than twenty feet away.
I took Aly's hand to get her out of the taxi, then I leaned into the window to pay the driver and Aly slipped on the curb falling into my side.
“Sorry, Casey.” She laughed with her hand over her mouth.
I righted her and pulled her to the sidewalk next to our bags. I was still holding her hand when I glanced over to see if my brain really had short-circuited or if it really was Blake, as people passed by on the walkway.
When my gaze fell back on them, they were closer. She stared at Aly and me. I saw realization coat her face and then what looked like disappointment.
I was there with Aly. I knew what she was thinking.
“Hi,” I said.
Aly pulled on my arm. “Come on, I need coffee,” She tugged at me not realizing what else was going on around her. She grabbed her bag with her free hand and pulled me again toward the door.
“Hey,” I said to Blake again, trying to get her to speak. She only looked at me, then to Aly and back. Stone faced.
“Aly, hold on!” I barked.
My shout caused Blake to jump. The man next to her wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders and she walked backward toward their car.
“Wait,” I said. “Just a second.”
The man said into her ear, “Who is that?” I heard him, they were only a few feet away. So close that I also heard when she said, “Nobody.”
The guy opened the passenger door and she got in. He rounded the car to the driver's side and I took off, my feet propelling me toward her before she was gone. I crouched, looking into the windows to see her, but I couldn't get sight of her through the tint. The guy pointed a sharp finger at me from over the roof of the car as he was paused getting in. He gave me a look that could kill.
As my hand went to slap the glass, to see if she’d roll it down, he said, “I wouldn't do that.” I took his warning. Something about him told me that he was ten seconds from kicking my ass. And that guy was big enough to do it. Then he said before getting in, “Stay away from my sister.”
His sister. The dude was one of her brothers.
I bent down so that she could see me. I only had seconds until they'd pull away.
“Please. Stop. Get out and talk to me. Please.”
That didn't work. The window didn't budge.
F*ck it. She wasn't with him, I'd text her.
Me: I'm still waiting.
Honeybee: Is she really your girlfriend?
Her reply came faster than I'd expected.
Me: No.
Honeybee: Then who is she?
Me: Someone who wants what she can't have.
Honeybee: Don't we all?
Honeybee: Leave me alone.
Like hell I would. I mean, what were the odds of running into her like that? If I believed in signs, I would have admitted to just witnessing one.