“I guess,” I grumbled.
“I’ve been trying to get this girl into the sheets for fifty years now, and she ain’t havin’ me,” he said as he lovingly caressed Ma’s wrinkled and liver-spotted hand, which was the same hand Ma used to bat him away from her.
“Shut up and eat your Salisbury steak, Ed,” she yelled, and he sheepishly went back to his meal without saying anything else.
Oddly, there were uncanny parallels in the scene playing out before me. I shuddered to think I would be Ed one day. Through the glass door, I watched Caitlyn leave. She looked rattled to her core. She was crying, and it was a punch in the gut to watch her get in a dilapidated old car that appeared to be on its last leg.
I felt horrible. I had upset her to such a degree, she had to leave. She was in no state of mind to be driving such a dangerous vehicle. As I watched her pull out of the parking lot, I felt all eyes on me. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what, so I turned to the mousy waitress who was leaning on a wall in the corner. “Do you mind getting my bill?” I asked as gently as I could.
“Ya ain’t got no bill,” she barked.
“I’d like to pay for two meals. Whatever you think is appropriate.”
“Ya want your stuff?” she asked coarsely.
I just shook my head.
There was a twinkle in her eye as she glanced at the table. “Not even that good champagne? It’s hardly been drunk.”
“You can have it,” I said as she handed me the bill.
I gave her my credit card and ignored the stares, thinking about what Caitlyn had said. Was my reputation really so bad? I blew out a breath. Of course it was. I was exactly that man.
And I hated it.
Maybe with someone as fresh and honest as Caitlyn in my life, I could… Could what? Change? I scoffed at the idea, but somewhere inside my head, the thought loomed.
“Here’s your card back, sir,” the mousy waitress said as she handed me the slip to sign.
I signed, giving her a one-hundred-dollar tip.
The drive back to New York was a long and sad one for me as I replayed my conversation with Caitlyn over and over again in my head. It was torture. By the time I had sufficiently horrified myself with my own words, I emphatically understood how wrong I’d been. The words. The actions. The intent. Everything.
The problem was… I had no idea what else I could have said. I tried to think of something else, something more heartfelt and human, but anything I could come up with sounded even shittier. I didn’t have it in me to be thoughtful or heartfelt. I was a coldhearted monster.
I had another fitful night of sleep. This time, I dreamed of making love with Caitlyn, and instead of enjoying my talents as a lover, she was cutting off pieces of my flesh with a butter knife. When I woke, I was even more frustrated. Her cutting me as easily as one cut butter was a metaphor if I’d ever heard one. Maybe that was why I was so attracted to her. I hadn’t the skills to woo her, so I wanted her more.
My rescheduled weekly sparring match with Lucas was in the early afternoon. I needed it badly. I had to vent my anger and aggression as soon as possible. Also, since he was more successful in love than I was at the moment, I wanted to kick the shit out of him for it, then begrudgingly ask him for advice. I hated to ask for help, but I was hitting a brick wall on this. I was possibly out of my league. I was loath to admit it, and would only do so under duress, but the little waitress had gotten me.
To my credit, I was a bit more conscious of my dealings with people in the office as I tried not to be so short-tempered. I used more “pleases” and “thank yous” than I ever had, and I actually stopped and talked pleasantly with my assistant about nothing of true importance before I attacked the pile of work on my desk. I checked my tone and practiced making it sound pleasant and caring. This took an immense amount of mental effort on my part, which nearly caused me to have a stroke, but the practice was worth it. My attempts at civility were noted by Sandra, who gave me a warm and gracious smile.
“Someone must have had a good night,” she teased.
Shit. If she only knew how not good it was.
I grinned. “I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“Really?” She seemed shocked.
“Don’t get your hopes up though,” I warned, “I might not be able to pull this off.”
“I won’t.” She seemed a little deflated by the prospect of me returning to my usual state of unpleasantness.
“You let me know if I slip,” I said with a wink. “I’m in a twelve-step program for assholes.”
I closed my door on her confused laugh, needing to escape people. I didn’t want to “people” longer than I had to today. Ironic how my assistant teased me, assuming something wonderful happened last night. She would probably have a good laugh knowing that my ass had been handed to me by a fucking waitress. Shit. I mean server — I think that’s what she called the mousy woman… Linda. Whatever, it was all hard.
What I really needed right now was my brother, but I wasn’t willing to confess my sins to him yet. He wouldn’t understand, and he was my harshest and most honest critic.
I owed him his weekly picture, so I sent off the selfie with Caitlyn, guilt riding my back as I did so. As expected, he loved the photo because, moments later, he returned my message with hearts and smiles bursting all over the page. Each one was like a stab to my gut. I sent him back only one smile. He seemed disappointed.
Smile, smile, he texted, but sadly, one was all I could manage.
Lucas showed up at exactly four-thirty. I was ready for this. He was his usual jovial self, and I was ready to hit the mat and kick his balls to the moon. How could someone always be so happy?
“Ready to go down?” I asked in a jokingly aggressive manner.
“I’m ready to watch you go down,” he threw back at me. “You know you always lose.”
“Not this time,” I said, giving him a hard punch to the shoulder.
He eyed me. “Save it for the ring, my friend.”
“I’m ready,” I said as I danced around him, positioning another punch which I held tight, not wanting to hurt him.
“To kill someone, it seems. Ease up on the reins, buddy,” he playfully knocked me back.
He was right. I was ready to kill somebody and sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be my best friend. Outside of my brother, he was my only friend except Rachel, but I assumed I would lose her soon. Since I saw her last week, I’d been thinking about calling our affair off, and if I did, I assumed our friendship would be over since the only thing between us was sex. People only liked me for three things — power, sex, and money. Well, except Lucas and my little brother.
I didn’t want to give up the sex, exactly. We had our good days, and I always needed the physical release she gave me. My hand wasn’t better than her pussy, but her pussy wasn’t worth risking a chance with Caitlyn.