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"You know me. I don't let them spend the night."
"You did not send that girl packing," he asks, shocked.
"A man doesn't kiss and tell," I say. "Anyway, I have to leave the hotel room now. I'll see you in the office?"
"I'll be in a little later today," he says. "Sarah wants to take me to some furniture store to look at?—"
"I don't even want to hear it," I say, cutting him off. "What happened to you, dude? You used to be a man I could respect. Now?—"
"Now I'm a man you're jealous of."
"I'm totally not jealous," I say and hang up to his laughter.
I stand up, grab my shirt, and pull on the rest of my clothes and shoes. I have work to do, and I also need to make a couple of calls to make sure that the story that my nana told me is correct and true. She certainly isn't one for lying, but I know there’s a first time for everything.
I need to find out whether or not my dad really is a changed man and if he really had a stroke or not. Or if this is some ploy to get me back to the family company. I don’t think it’s a lie, which makes me nervous. I grab Zara’s lipstick case and stare at it for a few moments as I look around the room. The city is waking up, and I can see people running in the park. I wonder where Zara is at this moment. I wonder if she is like me and thinking about the multiple orgasms we had last night.
“Get over it, Pruitt,” I lecture myself as I drop the lipstick case on the bed, gather myself, and get ready to start my workday. “She’s yesterday's news.” I head to the door, open it, and step into the hallway. The door swings shut, but I stick my foot inside and sigh as I head back into the room, grab the case, and put it into my back pocket. “You never know when it’ll come in handy,” I mumble to myself as I make my way to the elevator and attempt to put her out of my mind.
11
Zara
Dear Sandra,
Do you remember when we used to go to the beach, look at the surfers, and say that one day, we would learn how to surf just so we could get one of those hot surfers for ourselves? I wonder if the same thing is applicable to dating billionaires or millionaires. Does one have to become a billionaire or a millionaire to date one? I don't think that's true, but it's not like I've ever been with one.
Oh, wait. I think I was with someone really rich, but I don't even know his real name. Not that he believed me. I know you're dying to hear more. Too soon? I don't know. Anyway, gots to go.
Miss you,
Zara
Lila is waiting for me on the cluttered couch as I enter our small, yet cozy, apartment. I'm grateful to see she started tidying up the toys from the ground. However, the rattan toy chest seems to be overflowing. "Hey, you’re back. Are you okay?" she asks me softly as she clambers off the couch and walks over to me. Her eyes are wide, and she looks nervously at me, as if worried I’m going to break down. Does she really think I’m that emotionally vulnerable?
"I'm fine. Why?" I ask her, frowning as I walk into the apartment. I don’t want to speak about Zeus and what just happened. I’m not sure how I feel about it all.
"Because you sounded really upset on the phone, and I know this isn't something you normally do." She gives me a knowing look, and I blush.
"What's not something I normally do?" I shrug nonchalantly, as if I have no clue what she’s talking about. "Oh, you mean have casual sex with a man I met at a bar, going to The Plaza Hotel, letting him do things to me I've never done with anyone else before in my life? And then when I think the morning's going to be the culmination of an amazing night, he tells me that he expects me to make him breakfast while looking at me like I’m some sort of trash?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says, grasping my hands. "Do you want me to make you breakfast or find him and give him a piece of my mind?"
I shake my head, a wry smile on my lips as I gaze at my best friend's flashing eyes. She looks angrier than me. "I'm not hungry, but thank you. And it's not your fault. You're not the one that made me go home with Zeus."
"What's his real name?" she asks. Her hand flies to her mouth as the realization hits her. "You don't even know his real name?" The shock and awe oozes out of every pore as she stares at me.
"I became the best Carrie Bradshaw that I could," I explain, even though I’m pretty certain Carrie always got their names. "It wasn’t about me and him having a personal connection; it was about me having sex with a gorgeous man. Period. I’m not going to think about it ever again." I run my hands through my hair and push my shoulders back. “So, no, I don’t know his real name. He is simply Zeus to me.”
"You do not know the name of the man you had sex with?"
"You're making me feel like a hoe, Lila." I glare at her.
"Well, we both know you're not a hoe, but I can't believe you didn't ask him his name."
"That would have ruined the fantasy because it was a fantasy. I mean, what sort of Greek god Adonis normally wants to pick me up and take me out? Plus, he wasn't looking for anything more, trust me.”
"He was really cute, and those men rarely settle down,” she finally agrees. "You want some orange juice?"
