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After spending the past fifteen years angry at a lie, all I feel now is empty. I got smashed, completely drunk the first night. Since then I’ve just been existing, spending each day alone, doing nothing. It’s somehow worse than hitting someone or killing someone. I just can’t find it in me to do anything else.
Eventually, the rage will find me. But for now there’s an empty hole in my chest desperate to be filled.
She’s not here. Every time I walk through the elevator doors, I hold my breath. Hoping I’ll find her beautiful, perfect body on a lounge chair. But she’s never here.
It takes me a minute to place the quiet footsteps behind me. Before I can turn around, soft hands clamp over my eyes.
“Guess who?”
It’s a good thing she’s behind me. Because she doesn’t get to see the wide smile that stretches across my face. I clear my throat.
“Someone that’s not meant to be here.”
She laughs before letting go and I turn around. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Sophia. She’s as devastating as I remember. Beautiful in a kind of otherworldly way.
“Hey, blondie,” I greet.
She rolls her eyes. “You look rough,” she says her eyes roaming my face, assessing.
I make a face. “That’s what every man wants to hear from a beautiful woman. That they look rough.”
“People really don’t appreciate it when I tell them the truth,” she muses, stepping away and heading for a chair.
I can’t help but notice the way her ass jiggles in yet another short tight skirt. It seems like a permanent fixture in her wardrobe. Not that I mind. I really, really don’t mind. She takes a seat and I follow.
“So, you haven’t been here in a while,” I mention casually.
Her eyes sparkle. “Don’t tell me you’ve been pining for me every day since we had sex.”
“It might surprise you to find out. But the world doesn’t revolve around you, Sophia.”
It’s the first time I’ve said her name out loud. She doesn’t seem to notice. Instead she’s picking at a thread in her shirt.
“I’ve been busy,” she informs me. “Not all of us are rich Pagani owners.”
“The Pagani was a gift from my boss,” I say on a smile.
I saw it and considered buying it for myself but when I got to the dealership, it was gone. Rome snuck behind my back and got it for me on my twenty sixth birthday as a reward for good behavior. Good behavior being that I didn’t stab anyone without reason for a couple of months.
“Your boss? Where exactly do you work?” she asks curiously.
“I work for a shipping company,” I reply which is like the default answer when someone asks about my profession. And I don’t want to tell them about the guns and knives and crime.
It’s not technically a lie. Sixty percent of my job does involve delivering and shipping goods across state borders and international borders as well. Or at least supervising those shipments. It’s just the more domestic parts of it that have to be kept PG.
“Must be a pretty big company if your boss can afford Pagani’s for his employees,” Sophia notes.
I smile. “That’s because he’s not just my boss. He’s my best friend. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Oh that makes sense.”
“Your turn, blondie,” I state. “What do you do for work?”
And just like that we’ve settled back into our game. I expect her not to answer. She seems to like being mysterious.
“I work as a fashion consultant,” she informs me.
“That makes sense,” I say, which makes her smile.
