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“Whatever for?”
She tries to pull the innocent act when she toys with the drawstring of her bikini top and bites her bottom lip. “Maybe have a drink. I want to show you I’m not all bad. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She’s got a lot of gall.
She’s come to realize coming on too strong hasn’t worked, so she’s now trying a different approach. It’s still not working, however.
Leaning in close, I reply, “No, we didn’t. I know your type, Rebecca. I’m not interested in having a drink with you. Nor am I interested in speaking to you. Please leave me alone.” I turn around to look out over the railing.
Sadly, her malicious voice ruins my view. “Don’t forget, I can blemish your little comradeship with Chad. One word, Dr. Mathews, that’s all it’ll take.”
Strike two.
I am done with women blackmailing me. “No, you won’t, Rebecca,” I refute, not bothering to look at her. “You know that if you did, your cushy life with Chad will be over. He may have been blinded by what’s between your legs, but believe me, it’s beginning to leave a bitter aftertaste. Both literally and figuratively speaking.” She stomps off a second later, thankfully not rebutting my claims.
Being around Rebecca has only reinforced how much I miss Madison. It has also cemented the fact that Ihavechanged. I may have had to lose everything in the process, but you have to lose everything to appreciate what you have. Or, in Madison’s case, had.
Feeling those familiar emotions of longing pass over me, I gulp down my cocktail and realize I’m one step closer in deciding my fate.
As I look at my reflection in the mirror, I know that something big is about to happen. I don’t know how I know. I just do.
I adjust my navy tie, not feeling an iota of nerves because this has been a long time coming. I should have done this from the get-go. Madison’s words about me dealing with the consequences of my mistakes can also be applied to this situation.
I can’t believe how far off the path I’ve strayed. It’s time to fix the error of my ways.
As I step out of the elevator, I can’t believe how calm I feel. To onlookers, my arrogance might be mistaken for cockiness about my certainty that I’ve won the award, but winning the award is the furthest thing from my mind.
When I inform the staff member who I am, she smiles and leads me to table number one. Max, Aiko, Chad, Rebecca, and three other contenders and their partners are sitting at the large table. Bad luck for me, the seat between Rebecca and Max is the only one free. Not wanting to make a scene, I walk over and take it.
“Evening,” I say, addressing the table.
“Hello, my friend,” Chad replies, holding up his glass in salute. I nod and reach for the bottle of red.
The table continues quizzing Dr. Bora on his findings in abnormal psychology. As I’m listening to him speak, I can’t help but compare him to a textbook. His findings are brilliant, but I’ve heard most of them before. And if he uses air quotes around the word “abnormal” one more time, I’ll have no hesitation about alerting him to the fact that we’re not imbeciles.
Ten minutes in, Max leans over and whispers, “Can you believe this moron was actually nominated? A monkey smoking a cigar is more intelligent, not to mention more interesting than he is.”
I can’t hold back my laughter and mask it behind my hand. Thankfully, Dr. Bora is too busy in his egocentric world to noticethe disruption. “I stick to my original theory of you being the only sensible choice to win.”
As I subtly shift my leg away when Rebecca fondles my thigh, I can’t help but think how wrong he is.
“I’ll be right back. I just have to inform the emcee that we’re ready for the proceedings to commence,” Chad says as he stands, buttoning up his suit jacket. He looks at me and gives me a knowing smile.
Throughout the evening, Rebecca has been relatively tame, but now that Chad has gone, it’s claws out, and I mean that literally. I move my leg away for the tenth time this hour, bored and angered by her tenacity. I don’t know how many times I have to say no before she gets the hint and leaves me alone.
I’m quite certain my annoyance is showing because I haven’t failed to notice Max looking at me with curiosity as I grind my teeth in frustration. Too bad Chad hasn’t figured it out.
Rebecca leans close. “I’d have thought by now you’d realize I don’t give up easily.”
Unable to keep the anger from my tone, I reply, “Neither do I.”
“I like a challenge,” she counters huskily, not caring that we’re in earshot of her fiancé’s colleagues. I shake my head, feeling so unbelievably frustrated to find myself in this situation.
Max shifts beside me, and I know he can hear our conversation loud and clear. I bet he’s rethinking his claims about me being the best contender for the award.
“You wouldn’t have to do a thing. All you’d have to do is lie back and enjoy the ride,” she states quickly because at that precise moment, we both see Chad walking back to our table, his eyes darting between our inappropriate closeness.
“No,” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, anyone would think you’ve got something against blow jobs!” Her outburst is a little louder than she anticipated because as soon as the words leave her lips, she slaps a hand over her mouth. But it’s too late.
