AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Honestly, yeah. I’ve gotten burned from experience, I’m thirty-five now, it’s not like I’m an untrained newbie going out on a couple dates, getting my dick wet for the first time. These women are all over Manhattan, and the minute they get a whiff of a dude like me, the claws come out, they’re in it to win it.”
Laurie paused, thinking.
“But what does that have to do with me?” she asked again, tilting her head to the side, eyeing me speculatively. “Why did you have to ‘test’ me?” she said neutrally. “I live in a tiny walk-up on the Lower East Side, I’m poor, it’s obvious.”
And that was it exactly.
“Honey, you’re assuming that the only women with their claws out are rich bitches, women with designer clothes and shoes, skinny and mean. But the fact is that women of all stripes, of all economic means are after me. Trust me, I’ve had poor women come after me too, girls who worked as nannies, who were struggling students. Just because you’re poor doesn’t make you a saint.”
And something changed in the brunette then.
“So you thought I could be one of them, that maybe I just wanted you for your bank account, huh?” she said softly. “Maybe I was just another girl out on the hunt.”
And I had to be honest.
“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, I’m thirty-five, I’ve been dating in NYC for decades now. Trust me, I know women.”
That final statement broke the camel’s back. Because all the light went out of my best girl’s eyes, her shoulders slumped, her vivacious energy shut off like a light socket gone dark. Instead, Laurie was subdued now, not meeting my eyes. She fingered the cuff of her blouse, biting her lip.
“Thanks Tucker, I get it,” she said softly, still not meeting my gaze. “I’ll let you get back to work now.”
I strode over to the brunette and grabbed her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me. But the brown eyes were shuttered, shielded, and gave nothing away, merely reflecting my own.
“Listen,” I growled. “This isn’t over, we’ll talk more when I get back tonight, alright? I promise.”
She nodded slightly before breaking free, smoothing her skirt and taking a deep breath.
“Sure, no problem,” she said with a slight smile. “I’ll see you at home okay?” And was it my imagination, or had Laurie’s lip trembled on the word “home”? But I couldn’t focus on that now, there were a million things to be done at work, investors were coming later today and we still had a shit-ton of prep to do. So I watched silently as the curvy girl left the conference room, slipping out and shutting the door quietly behind her. This wasn’t how I wanted to end the conversation but at the moment I didn’t have a choice. Come eight p.m., we were going to have a real conversation to set things straight, get everything in order … because Laurie was mine and that was that.
19
Laurie
Isat in the library, my laptop open on a huge, wooden desk, far from any other users. I typed in “Tucker McGrath” and held my breath as the machine hummed. And sure enough, a dozen results popped up.
“Internet billionaire bad boy does it again!” screamed one headline.
“Will McGrath break the new economy?” blared another.
And the worst: “Tucky Tuck gets his duck on with Laurel Hardy,” read the caption with a picture of Tucker, handsome and arresting, blue eyes piercing, in a tux with a beautiful woman on his arm. The skinny blonde was the opposite of me, ten miles tall, thin as a whip, with perfect make-up, perfect hair, her lips painted in a wide crimson smile.
And I died inside, absolutely shriveled up and withered to nothing. It was like Tucker had had been playing with me, stepping out of his “real” life to have some fun. Because the real Tucker seemed to be someone else completely. The “real” Tucker was a self-made entrepreneur with more money than God and a taste for fancy things, be it the latest sports car, luxurious yachts, or expensive vacations. And there were pictures of all this on the web, all of them with a different woman, a different perfectly made-up, camera-ready model with a set of manicured fingernails and a smiling, lipsticked mouth.
I’d never felt more dumb. Why hadn’t I googled Tucker earlier? Why hadn’t I done like normal people do and get on the internet immediately, searching for anything and everything about my new guy? I guess it was because I didn’t want to jinx myself, I was so traumatized from my marriage and divorce that I didn’t want to open up any closets and face the skeletons, I wasn’t ready for that. So instead I’d gone the opposite route, sticking my head in the sand, seeing only what I wanted to see, willing myself to believe in the fairy tale.
But I cursed myself because there’d been so many signs, the luxury apartment, the friends who didn’t exist, the way Tucker never batted an eye about money. I shook my head, defeated. Even the wine we drank each night was expensive, there was no way a delivery man could afford even that. Shit. It was my own fault, and I only had myself to blame.
So I sat back, my shoulders trembling, the air heaving in my chest. I’d packed a suitcase and had it with me now, the little travel-sized case humble and tiny. And the thought of my drab, bare apartment on the Lower East Side was depressing, but at least it was still mine. I dreaded going over there, dreaded letting myself into that lonely, cold room, but the library was closing soon and I’d have no choice. Suddenly, a ring jolted me from my stupor. Picking up my cell, I saw that it was my mom.
“Hi Linda,” I said, speaking quietly into the receiver. “Let me go outside.” Slowly, I tiptoed out of the reading room and into a common area filled with light and the buzzing sound of conversations.
“Hi Ma,” I said a little louder, standing in a corner, plugging up one ear with a finger. “I’m at the library so I can’t talk long, but how are you? How’s your vacation going?”
“Hi honey,” squealed my mom. I held the receiver away from my head, wincing. So much for my warning, Linda never took instruction well. “How are you baby?” she trilled. “I haven’t talked to you in so long!”
My mom had been sailing the world with her new beau, a silver fox who wined and dined her like no tomorrow. But Charles was genuinely nice, and I was glad my mom had someone to spend time with.
“How are you hon?” repeated my mom. “I’ve missed you! Tell me everything,” she gushed.
