Still in my second trimester, what I thought would be a walk in the park was turning out to be more like a trip down Agony Lane. My ankles (or should I say cankles) disappeared, along with my waistline. The only thing that kept me sane was Kate. She was a hell of a lot of fun, told ridiculous stories about herself and her wild friends, plus she was a great listener.
“So did the Jerk speak to you today?” she asks, biting into a stick of celery.
“Yes. But it was only to ask me where we kept the scissors in the stationary room. Trust me, it was as formal as any stationary room exchange could be.”
“Then you didn’t tell him about the scan next week? Presley, I can come if you need me,” she offers.
I have learned a very important thing about Kate; she is a great friend. Not only does she listen to me complain about the Jerk for countless hours, she is willing to rearrange her schedule to attend my appointment with me. In all fairness, I spent countless hours listening to the drama unfold with her secret lover. The thing I didn’t get about the whole situation was why Kate allowed herself to be manipulated by this pathetic excuse of a man. She is gorgeous and tall with an athletic build. Her shimmering blonde hair is cut just below her chin, perfectly straightened like she just stepped out of a salon. She has these cute freckles that spread across her cheeks and nose, covering her pale British skin. Plus she has this cheeky smile, with a dimple on the left side of her face.
Yet something about this man, the power he held, or the fact that he was some secret underground boss, drew her in to the point that she was under his bewitching spell and couldn’t break free.
“I promise I’ll tell him, and thanks for the offer.”
“We have sucky love lives,” she complains, sinking into the couch with the remote.
“Yep, we sure do. What’s the latest on your secret mystery man?”
She lets out a huge sigh. “Nothing. I texted him and asked him if he wanted to have dinner tonight and he never responded.”
“So then why didn’t you call him?”
“Because he made it clear that he doesn’t date. He doesn’t do relationships. I was just hoping he might change for me.”
“Are you sure he isn’t gay, Kate?”
“Maybe. Who knows? He only wants to screw me from behind so what the hell does that mean? He is gay or he doesn’t like my face.”
I give her a sympathetic smile. “Why are you still hung up on him? You can have any guy, Kate. He sounds so—”
“Uninterested?”
I simply nod.
“Because, Presley, the way he makes me feel. Even though he acts that way, when we’re alone I feel so empowered. He teaches my body to do things I’ve never experienced, and sexually, he takes me to a level that is beyond words.”
I can hear it in her voice; it’s not love as such, but an uncanny connection to someone who’s unattainable.
The next day at work, I decide I need to ask the Jerk about the ultrasound. Somehow I chicken out again. So I text him from my desk to his, and throw in the invitation to a last-minute farewell lunch for Clive. Because that’s mature.
I have an ultrasound on Monday at 9am. You’re welcome to come.
Oh, and there is a farewell lunch for Clive today at the diner round the corner. You’re welcome to come to that too if you wanna bang.
I hear him chatting away to another colleague and don’t expect it when my cell beeps instantly.
Sure why not. And about the bang part…gladly, if you’re offering.
Huh? I scroll back up to my text. Oh fucking hell! Stupid fat pregnancy fingers. Great, now his idiotic man brain is probably playing porn music in the background already.
Hang! I meant hang!! #duck
I meant #FUCK
The bubble appears and I throw my head down in shame. Serves me right.
Wait, are you still offering?
I respond at a very slow pace, checking all my words before I hit send.
Round two. I’m not offering. HANG out with us if you want. #damnautocorrect #jerk
I hit send and jump when I see him standing beside me with a grin on his bearded face. I hadn’t paid close enough attention to see that he had grown it out until now.
“What’s with the beehive, Jerk?”
He rubs his beard which makes a scratching sound. “Just something new I’m trying out.”
“If it makes you feel better, you look like Bigfoot.” I turn back around abruptly.
“Actually, that does make me feel better.”
He continues to linger, making me feel very uncomfortable.
“So, are you over your little drama now?” he chastises.
“What drama?”
“The drama that made you ignore me from the moment you woke up at the hotel.”
What excuse could I come up with that was plausible? Think, Kitty! This is all your fault anyway!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you must be talking about yourself,” I say, in a clear and nonchalant tone.
He lets out a loose chuckle, scratching his scruff again. “Women.”
It’s the last thing he says before walking back to his desk.
Clive’s last-minute lunch got canceled, and thankfully, it gave me an excuse to avoid the Jerk until Monday. Friday has officially become my favorite day for two reasons. One, I can wear my unattractive muumuu at night and stay indoors, and two, I don’t have to see the Jerk, which means I can stop thinking about how that beard would feel brushing against my thighs.
As soon as I walk through the door on Friday night, I’m surprised to see Kate already home. She tells me to quickly get dressed because we are going out to dinner with her boss. I only agree because she said the restaurant makes the best enchiladas in the city.
“Lex!” Kate yells amid the small crowd sitting in the restaurant.
Her boss, Lex, is no doubt one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. Dressed in a crisp navy suit and white linen shirt, he stands up and opens his arms to hug Kate. His eyes are like...emeralds. And wow, he is all types of beautiful.
“Lex, this is my roommate, Presley Malone,” Kate introduces, taking a seat at the small, round table.
He reaches out his hand and shakes mine, and when I pull back, I notice the white gold band on his wedding finger. I remember now how Kate told me he was married with kids. Go figure; the good ones are always taken.
“Nice to meet you, Presley. Kate’s told me a lot about you.” He pulls out the chair beside him and I take a seat, giving him a nod in thanks.
“And vice versa. So Kate has raved on about these enchiladas and I’d like to point out that I’m eating for two, so no judgment from either of you.”
Lex laughs as he scours the menu. “My wife used to always say that. It’s how she justified ordering the whole menu.”
“Oh that’s right, Kate mentioned you had three daughters.” I smile.
Kate’s face lights up immediately. “Yes, three of the most beautiful girls to ever exist!”
He is quick to scowl, but follows it with a warm smile. “That’s what she says, but Kate hasn’t experienced Addison during her teething stage.”
“Don’t scare her, Lex,” Kate scolds.
“No, scare me. I think I’m too naïve and I want to expect the worse, that way I’m not in for too much of a shock.”
It’s nice to finally chat to another parent because no matter how many textbooks I read, experience can only be told from those that are wise because they’ve gone through it. Lex enjoys talking about his family, and I enjoy hearing his stories.