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I'm fucked.
* * *
"What do you mean you have plans this weekend? The entire weekend? When am I going to see you again?" Daniel asks, the annoyance in his voice clear. I don't blame him, though, so I don't argue. After all, I'm lying to him and I feel like shit over it.
"I have to work," I say apologetically. "The family wants to go to Nantucket and they need me to babysit. How about Monday after class I come right over and stay the night? I'll go to school from your place the next day."
Daniel places his red wine on the table, but he doesn't let go of the stem. He stares at it, his eyes hard. We just finished eating Thai at this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant and our night was going smoothly until now. Disappointment is written clear across his face. The last thing I want is to dampen the night, so I need to figure out how to make this right.
"I have to work late on Monday, so I won’t be home."
I shrug, trying to find another solution. "So meet me at our coffee place that morning and give me your key. I'll make dinner and have it ready by the time you get home."
He lifts his eyes to mine and a hopeful smile tugs at his lips. "You can cook?"
I flatten my lips, trying not to laugh. "I can barely boil water. I was just going to order out and take the credit for it." I joke, and a huge smile spreads across his face, easing the tightness in my chest. "However, I was going to set the mood for you… Maybe slip into something nice and give you a massage after a long, hard day at work?"
Daniel reaches for my hand across the small table. Lifting it to his lips, his eyes lower as he gives me a little kiss to the top of my knuckles. "A for effort. I'll be counting down the hours until I get to see you again."
Forty-Eight
"Natalie, I'm screwed!" I yell Friday morning.
I woke up early to pack so I'd be ready when I got out of class, but now I'm a frazzled mess and I can't think straight. I'm so stressed about this weekend. My gut is still screaming that it’s not a good idea to go away with James, but my heart is saying to put one foot in front of the other and shut the fuck up. I'm eager to be with him, but I have so much guilt filling every inch of my body that it’s hard to function.
"That makes one of us. What's wrong?" she asks, holding her coffee as she walks into my room. Her eyes widen, taking in the scattered clothes all over the place.
"I have a job out of town all weekend, so I told Daniel I'm nannying in Nantucket. He's not thrilled, so I’m dealing with that, and now I don't know what to pack."
She glares at me. "So? What's the issue? You have to be getting at least twenty grand to do a weekend event like that. Just make it up to him with sex."
"That's the plan. I just feel bad."
The real issue is I need to get my lies in order for her too and that makes me more edgy than anything. In case she sees Daniel by some odd chance, not that I think she will, I need to make sure my double life is lined up on both sides so I don't get caught.
"Why?" she asks. "I'd take the money and lie too. You've been working a lot lately."
It's true. Every night this week Christine has offered me a job, except the night I had dinner with Daniel. I've taken them all, but the last time I spoke to her I told her I wouldn't be available this weekend. Thankfully they’ve all been uneventful quickies, but I've been busy nonetheless.
"I need the distraction, honestly." My cell phone rings. "Hand that to me, please," I say as I lean over one bag to squish it down so I can pull the zipper closed.
Natalie picks up my cell phone and reads the screen. Handing it to me, she says, "Blocked caller? Who's that?"
Blood drains from my face and my fingers start trembling. My heart is racing so hard I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"Are you going to answer it or just stare at it like your grammy found out you bang men with cannibal fetishes for hush money?"
Blinking a few times, my jaw bobs until something pops into my head. I offer a courtesy laugh and quickly switch my phone to silent.
"Ah, it's no one. Just some telemarketer that keeps calling. They leave messages in Spanish, so I know they have the wrong number."
I pocket the phone and prop my hands on my hips and exhale a sigh, avoiding her gaze.
"Why don't you skip class today so you can pack and then go to a spa to relax before you leave? I can feel you from here and you're stressing me out."
I drop my arms. "Can't. I have to go to class. One of the professors is going over what’ll be on the final exam and I need to take notes. I'm just nervous to be going away with a client for the weekend.”
“You have any Percs left? Want mine? Maybe you should take one now.”
