“He looked great, Beth. Really,” I said. “Plus, I didn’t really talk to him. But guess who else I saw?” I paused for dramatic effect. “Chlamydia Clary.” I bit back the bile creeping up my throat as thoughts of that fake witch resurfaced.
Now it was her turn to laugh at my misfortune. “Whoa, you have all the luck.” She knew how much I hated that boyfriend-stealing hoe.
“I know! Go figure. As big as New York is, two people I knew from before walk into my hospital. What’re the chances?”
“No kidding,” she replied. “I wouldn’t bank on winning the lotto anytime soon.”
“Seriously.” My eyes moved to the pile of bills I had to run to the post office, reminding me of all the things I needed to get done. “Hey, I gotta get this day going. I have a meeting with the doc tonight, but I’ve got some errands to run first.” I stared at the clock, noting that I had more than enough time to run my errands, tidy up a bit, and get ready for tonight’s mega meet up.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me.” Her voice hitched with excitement. “You guys are finally official?”
“No, but soon enough, babe. Don’t you worry.” I wasn’t. It was going to happen. I could feel it in my bones. Sarah and I had a foolproof plan.
“I know,” she said, sarcasm etching her tone. “The psychic’s prediction . . . yeah, yeah.”
My eyebrows pulled together as I focused on my glass of milk. I ran my finger against the condensation which had formed on the outside of the glass.
Evangeline’s predictions were my only lifeline, my hope of any future for happiness. But Beth didn’t take any of this seriously. Easy for her. Her life was perfect now.
I ignored her sarcasm and bit my lip as a shadow of disappointment filled me. “Well, I guess I should go. Love you. Tell your lover boy I said hi.” I hung up before she could get another word in.
After I ended our call, I rushed to the shower. Tonight was going to be big, and I needed to clear my head of negative thoughts. Plus, I needed to shave—ahem, everything—and figure out what I was going to wear. Hopefully tonight would be Dr. Hot Pants’ lucky night. And mine.
***
BRIAN
ESPN blasted in the background as I sat in the same spot since I’d woken up, working on the proposal I had to present to the credit committee on Monday.
Trey strolled into the living room in boxers only. “My head is fucking killing me. Damn migraines.” He stretched his arms over his head, making his already towering body even taller. It was his condo, so I didn’t have much of a say if he walked around half naked or not. At least he wore boxers. I had to give him that.
“You look worse than me, and I’m the guy who got sucker punched.” I smirked.
His eyes narrowed. “Shut up or you’ll be sleeping in the subway.”
I threw my pen at his head, and he chuckled when it missed him by mere inches.
When I’d told him I was moving to New York, he’d offered me his spare bedroom. I had jumped at the opportunity. We were best buds in high school and had gone through some tough shit when we were younger. I knew we wouldn’t have problems getting along plus rooming with him has saved me close to fifteen-hundred dollars a month in rent. I could’ve bought a house back home for what the landlords in Manhattan asked for a one-room closet they called an apartment.
With a sleepy nod at me, Trey strolled into the kitchen and pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge. He lifted the open spout to his mouth and guzzled it down.
Note to self: Pick up some OJ and label it.
Carton still in hand, he staggered toward me and plopped on the couch, staring at the TV in his zombie state. I ducked my head back into my computer as my fingers drummed against the keyboard.
“How’s your eye?” he asked as he chugged back his drink. His expression held a note of mockery. “Someone took a beat down.” He laughed.
Dick.
I touched the stitches at my brow, the puffiness evident and sensitive to the touch. When I brushed my teeth this morning, I noticed the swelling had gone down, but the blue tinge of a giant bruise had already appeared.
“What’re you talking about? I fell down the stairs,” I retorted.
Trey let out a carefree laugh, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he set down the orange juice on the center table. “Seriously, bro. What’re the chances that the hottest girl at the bar, also trying to get laid, had a boyfriend?”
I grimaced, rubbing my hand along my chin. Newly formed stubble prickled my fingertips. “I’m just gonna turn gay, bro. No complications. Men are more upfront and direct.” I wiggled my good eyebrow at Trey in a suggestive manner, clamping my lips shut so my expression stayed serious.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he chuckled, raising both hands. “I only swing one way. And you know how much I love me some ladies.”
His words rang true. I thought of the revolving door of women I’d seen make their way into the apartment since I’d moved in. Trey was never without company. There was a time after my sister when he’d given up on women. I didn’t know if it was because he was still holding onto the chance they’d get back together, or if whatever had happened between them had screwed up his view on the ladies.
He eyed my old half-eaten bagel, my poor excuse of a breakfast and lunch.
“Go ahead. I’m too busy to be hungry.” For the first time since I’d gotten up this morning, I closed my laptop and let my head drop to my hands, rubbing my forehead. I let all the tension from my shoulders ooze out of me.
I needed to win this deal. I had expanded a couple of relationships at work, selling current clients different bank products, but this would be a brand new client I’d be bringing on. I needed the Tiggins Corporation to switch from their current bank to Financial State, where we could service their multi-million dollar portfolio. This new client would secure me the promotion I’d been working so hard to get.
“I need to land this deal,” I sighed. “This would make my quota for the year, so I won’t be so stressed out.”
Trey placed a light hand on my shoulder. “You’ll land it, bro. I have the ultimate faith in you. First things first, let’s get some real food, and then let’s go out-out and try to find us some single ladies tonight.” Trey eyed my bagel with a pinched expression.
I shook my head. “Did you not hear what I just said? I have to work.”
“I heard you. I’m just not listening.” He reached for my bagel with cream cheese, and made his way to the garbage. “You can’t have bad luck two nights in a row. You’re stressed out, and you need a little release that only a woman can give you.”
This may be true, but I didn’t want any more complications in my life. “Naw, man. I’m just not in the mood.”
“I’m not asking,” he said about as sternly as Trey can get. “Get your ass off that couch. I’ll even let you pick the bar. And those stitches make you look badass. You’ll be a huge chick magnet.”
As if that was supposed to make the deal more appealing. But I knew, just like last night, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
I stood and stretched my legs, shaking off the cramp from sitting in the same position for so long.
Trey ran a hand over his hair then headed into his room. “Be ready in ten.”
With all the time he spent on his hair, I knew Trey’s ten minutes meant twenty, so I strolled at a normal pace into my room. My roommate had a love/hate relationship with his hair. Not like he had much to style anyway, and yet he had more hair products than all my sisters combined.
I shook my head. Maybe I had thirty minutes.
***
KENDY
I gave myself one more onceover in my bathroom mirror. The overhead florescent lighting showcased the glimmer of my eye shadow. I had curled my hair to perfection to ensure it would bounce with my every step, and my white halter-top hugged and accentuated my perky breasts.