“Jeez, don’t hold anything back,” says Jennifer. “Is he really that bad? I mean, I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but did you ask him if that was why he proposed? You know, the whole contract thing?”
“Of course it was,” snaps Lauren. “He just shows up and gives her the sex of her life and tricks her into agreeing to his proposal while using his magic penis to persuade her.”
The anger she manages to infuse into such a ridiculous statement makes Jennifer and I laugh again.
“It was pretty magical,” I say, smirking.
“Stop it!” says Lauren. “You’re letting his penis distract you from what’s important here.”
“What’s that?” I ask, licking my spoon. Trying to convince myself to hate Reid Riggins is both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world, because as soon as my hatred for him reaches a boiling point, it somehow shifts effortlessly into sexual frustration, and all I want to do is dig my fingernails into his back and… well, not do anything that will help the problem at hand.
“You know what it is,” says Lauren. “You need to move on. Let him see you with some other guy to get him jealous and show him what an idiot he was for trying to play you.”
“That sounds just as manipulative as what he did,” says Jennifer.
Lauren gives her a dry look. “That’s kinda the point.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “The last thing I want right now is to get involved in another relationship.”
Lauren sighs, moving behind me and massaging me like she’s my coach or something. “Young Sandra, where did I go so wrong in training you?”
“I’m a few years older than you…”
“Shut up,” snaps Lauren. “The point is you still have so much to learn. This isn’t about what you want. This is about teaching him a lesson. Guys like him are used to getting away with crap like this. They just wave their big, sexy penises around and everyone acts like nothing happened.”
“Uh,” says Jennifer, covering a grin with her hand.
I laugh. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”
“It basically does,” snaps Lauren. “So we’re going to teach him a lesson.”
Jennifer narrows her eyes at Lauren. “You seem really, really motivated to get back at Reid. Did he do something to you like, I don’t know, did he strangle your puppy when you were a kid or something?”
Lauren crosses her arms. “He hurt my friend. I mean, once we get him back and justice has been served and an appropriate mourning period has passed, he’ll be on the market again, too.”
“Lauren!” says Jennifer, slapping her arm.
“No,” I say. “It’s okay. He is on the market, as far as I’m concerned. You can have him. I really couldn’t care less about Reid Riggins and his stupid magic penis. I’m totally over him.”
I spend the new few days trying to come to terms with the emotional whip lash I’ve been through. Just when it seemed like everything was finally going my way, it was snatched away from me. First the bakery, then Reid. Now I feel like I’ve just been going through the motions, waiting for the day to come when my shop gets demolished. And the whole time I’ve had to deal with David Cumberfield’s never-ending phone calls. He hasn’t stopped begging to speak with me since he arrived, so I finally agreed to let him come say what he had to say just to get him to back off.
He pulls up to my house around six, and I greet him wearing the most conservative clothing I could find. He gets out of his Jaguar with a cocky smirk on his face. His clothes, as usual, are without a crease or wrinkle. His hair is perfectly in place. And, as usual, he looks ridiculous. I don’t know what I ever saw in him, other than an opportunity to please my parents.
David takes two steps toward me and then freezes, looking to his right. Before I can say a word, I follow David’s gaze and notice Reid storming toward us. He’s not wearing a shirt, and my memory flashes with involuntary images of the last time I was with him, when he took me on the bed. My core clenches just at the thought of him, heating with need. I try to push it all out of my head, but fail. My traitorous body responds to him like no other guy, and there seems to be nothing I can do to stop it.
“This guy again?” asks David. “You really should build a fence, dear.”
Reid throws a greasy rag over his shoulder and advances on David, making the height and weight advantage he has over David all the more apparent. “You get back in your fancy fucking Jaguar and leave. If you so much as lay a hand on my fiancée, I’ll fucking break you.”
“Fiancée?” asks David with a smile of disbelief. “Is he serious?” he asks me.
Does Reid really think we’re engaged? Even after I called him on his bullshit and the way he was using me. He really thinks I’m going to marry him? It was ridiculous in the first place, even before I caught him in his lie. “No,” I say. “He’s not serious. He’s delusional.”
Reid looks to me with an expression of genuine pain. I wince at the sight of it, not wanting to see. He can’t really be serious about all this. But if he’s not, why is he fighting it so hard? Because I’m his only ticket to saving his precious garage. That’s all I am to him. Like some big, potentially pregnant lottery prize.
“I am serious,” he says.
“Then you’re dumber than you look,” I snap. “Come on, David. Let’s go inside.”
David takes a hesitant look toward Reid and then tries to hide his fear, walking toward me a little too fast for dignity. Reid just watches, fists balled at his side and eyes blazing like they could start a fire. I swallow hard and the door closes behind us, leaving Reid outside and me trapped inside with David Slimeball Cumberfield.
Why did I say that? I didn’t mean it. As angry as I am at Reid, I hate that I just called him dumb. It feels low and dirty. I want to go back and apologize, but David is standing between the door and me.
“Don’t worry, dear. I won’t let that oaf ruin our night,” says David as he tries to worm his thin arms around me.
I do a little backwards, sidestepping dance to avoid his touch and spin towards the kitchen, laughing awkwardly to mask my discomfort. “You thirsty?”
“Sandra. Let’s talk about us. I’m glad you’ve given me another chance to--”
There’s a knock on the door. A loud, heavy, angry knock that tells me without a doubt who it is. I sigh, bracing myself as I move for the door.
“Don’t, it’s just--” starts David.
I ignore him, yanking the door open. “What?” I ask.
Reid is standing in the doorway, still shirtless. Still gorgeous. Except now he’s holding something metallic and oily. “Cum fields. Looks like you’ve got some car trouble.”
“You touched my Jag? You put your filthy, fucking--”
“Yeah, I touched it,” says Reid. “I guess I have a bad habit of touching things that don’t belong to me.”
This time his eyes lock on mine.
“Oh well,” he says. “You may want to get it checked out, dick breath,” he adds to David, tossing the part in a high arc over his shoulder.
David lunges forward, realizing exactly where the part is going to fall. There’s a dull thud as the heavy metal gear bounces off the hood of David’s Jaguar, leaving a large dent and a spot of chipped paint.