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Of course, I don’t have any food. I shook my head in disappointment, mostly at myself. I took a shower and got dressed in some jeans and a polo so I could run to the café around the block. I went there so much; the cashier knew my order. She stopped writing her number on my cup a few weeks ago.
“You look awful tired today, Tristan.” We got on a first name basis a few months back.
She was very young, college-age tops. And a typical one at that. Trendy dirty blonde hair, blue contacts, and a leaf tattoo on her wrist.
“Little bit, thanks for noticing.” I paid her and stepped to the side, feeling her eyes follow me as I did.
Things were different now. In my mind, I’m not married anymore; I’ve done my signing. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to show that girl a good time, maybe I would feel better. Maybe not better, but far from not having had sex in the past two months.
So, once I ate my croissant club and had my vanilla chai, I headed to the back room, making sure she saw me. She was quick, she met me back there in less than thirty seconds and I gave her everything she had been imagining for seven months.
~
Sure, I had a bit of a pep in my step on the way home so I stopped at my usual barber and got my haircut and wet shave.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, you make my job harder you know.” Tony, my barber who probably faked his Mediterranean accent, pretended to be pissed.
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.” He draped the cloth over me and I relaxed into the chair for a much-needed grooming session.
Perhaps I shouldn’t let myself go too much, but the shit I’ve been under for the past few months was enough for anyone to let themselves go.
“Maybe I do something new, what do you think?” He asked.
I chuckled softly, “Sure. Why not?”
I walked out of there with a new haircut, and decided to keep my beard as a low fade. Made me look wiser, and less like a divorced man at thirty. Maybe that’s all in my head.
I got back to my penthouse and settled in the theatre room, prepared to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. Then my sister called.
“What do you want, Natalie?” I gruffed.
“Ugh,” she scoffed, “I can’t check on my kid brother?”
I sighed heavily, muting the action movie from blaring through the speakers.
“Sure, you can.”
“Whatever. I worry about you, you know? How are you doing?”
I winced. I know she meant well, but I don’t like talking about myself very much. I never have and I probably never will. Yeah, she’s my big sister. She was family. But I didn’t like talking with them about it especially.
“I’m fine. Got a haircut today. How are you?” I tried to turn the conversation away from myself but she wasn’t having it.
“So, you don’t look like a bum anymore? That’s good. How is the divorce going? Did that twat finally sign the papers?”
I cracked a smile. Natalie probably hates Vivian mo
re than I do. Natalie was always like my protector anyway. She is only three years older than me, but she used to beat up the school yard bullies for me. Until junior high when I surpassed her in height and wasn’t the kid brother anymore. Still, she goes to bat for me all the time. Especially with this Vivian situation.
“No, she hasn’t. Levi is hoping to get her on board by Monday though.”
“Good. So, you’ll be at the gala this weekend?” I reclined in my chair, settling in for what seemed to be a long conversation.
“What gala?”
“You know Sasha and Bryan always have their gala this time of year. It’s on Saturday.”
Sasha was arguably the city’s most influential woman. She has been at the head of numerous charities, scholarship funds, and boys’ and girls’ clubs. Her success came from her ability to dig deep into the pockets of the wealthy. Including mine.
