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I tilt forward and fall on my face into a pillow. I’ve been awake a whole thirty seconds. My neurons are misfiring with the clash between my present and my past.
While we were getting reacquainted, Cris and I talked about organ donation. I know now that no doctor took Liz’s heart and put it in Paisley’s body. But damn, seeing Paisley’s scar made me recognize there’s a lot of shit that happened eleven years ago that I haven’t worked through.
“You’re such an asshole.” The pillow muffles the words that to my ears would’ve sounded like “man-child”.
I’d do anything if I could go back in time. When I’m alone, scenarios of me holding Paisley, asking her where she got the scar from, and telling her I’ll do anything to keep her healthy plague me.
My hard-on smashed against the mattress is ungodly uncomfortable. I roll, intending on licking my palm and riding my hand—something I’ve justified doing to images of Pais since the night she came off the good doctor’s dick and became mine.
Even if I wasn’t sure if I’d pursue pretending we were together, she belonged to me. My reputation was her burden to bear. For many, Paisley having to put up with my immorality was an appropriate punishment for leaving Laughton. I was the only person unaffected by having a relationship with a brilliant, beautiful, fierce businesswoman.
Or was I?
It’s hard to come to grips with realizing I’m a reprobate who has spent years with lustful images of my friend’s wives on replay. And, no matter how long we were together, I can’t lie to myself anymore that Paisley was a woman whose affections I could trifle with. Falling in love with her turned Paisley into the one person who could give me a taste of my own medicine.
Sliding my hand under my pants is now disobedient. It feels unfaithful to her and adds to my list of personal shortcomings. It makes me less deserving of those few minutes when Paisley’s body was wrapped around mine.
My phone lights up in the dark room that I’m sleeping in. The bold clock readout indicates that shortly the cleaning crew will descend upon Sweet Caroline’s to get the club in shape for the following night. I pick up my phone to read the incoming message.
Kelsey: I can’t keep this up. When are you coming back?
Yesterday I told her tomorrow. That’s now today. I’ve been using the same excuse. I’ve disappeared and left my manager blowing in the wind. Pais told me months ago to hire Kelsey help. My manager’s entitled to be pissed.
Kelsey: Legit coming back Jake. I want an answer or I quit.
Go, Kelsey. That second ping was ballsy.
I don’t want to go back to Brighton. There wasn’t anything there for me and now that Pais hates me, there’s even less.
I pull up my mother’s number and let the phone dial.
“You’re interrupting my beauty rest.”
She makes me laugh. My mom won’t ever stop being a night owl. It wouldn’t surprise me if she just placed her silk blackout mask over her eyes.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything, darling.”
“I’m out of town for… for a while, and I need someone to watch the club.” I blew it by taking off, acting as if I didn’t have responsibilities. “I’d never ask if Kelsey wasn’t having difficulty juggling. The dancers are giving her grief and a lot of that is my fault.”
The only other people I could even ask, who know how to get the job done right, are Kimber or Holly. I made leaving her role at Sweet Caroline’s easier for Holly than I had Kimber, but it’s dawning on me that I hadn’t shown either of them the respect they were entitled to. I haven’t shown a ton of respect for anyone. Asking those women to bail me out, to put my selfish needs above their own, is wrong.
“That might be a fun change of pace for a few days. When are you coming back?” Mom asks me the same question Kelsey posed.
“Can I call you with a tentative date?”
“Jake.” My mother draws out the vowel in my name. “What’s going on?”
“I broke it off with Paisley and I need a few more days to think is all.”
“Oh, Jake.” Mom sounds disappointed. Not in me, but for me.
I’m both. I miss Paisley. I doubt she feels the same. Paisley is smart enough to know she is better off without a guy who gets his jollies by making her fight for the things he should give her without hesitation.
“Three days, Jake.” Mom lays down an ultimatum. “If you haven’t figured out your shit by then, I hate to say you aren’t going to.”
“I’ll come up with a plan, Mom.” I don’t have a choice anymore. My employees count on me. It’s time I stood up and took care of business.
