Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (10 page)

Alright, I guess it’s time to get out of
here. But I’m going to see if Suit Master emailed back, first. I
checked at five just before Daniel left for the day, but had
nothing.

Typing the website into the search engine,
the site pops up and looks like I’m a lucky woman. I have five new
emails that I will just delete like I’ve done since I started
talking to Suit Master. Scrolling down it’s here! I have an
email!

My heart thuds rapidly in my chest and my
strangely hands clam up as I click the open button on my
message.

From: SuitMaster6979

To: Lotionlady319

Tuesday 7:10 p.m.

To my Lotion Lady,

Of course, I wouldn’t mind helping out. I’ve
worked with Laura many times before. I’ll call her first thing
tomorrow, not sure why she didn’t contact me sooner. I offer all of
my services pro-bono to The Women’s and Children’s Shelter. Thank
you for consulting me about this case.

Abuse is a very personal subject for me. I
grew up with an alcoholic mother who beat us when my father was
away on business or seeing to his mistress. I suffered the most at
my mother’s hand, way more than my siblings did, because every time
she went to beat them, I provoked her instead. Sorry to get heavy
on you, I just want you to know I could never condone that type of
unjust behavior and that is why I have devoted my life to it.

How about I move onto a lighter subject?
That might distract you from what I just confessed. I assure you
I’m not as damaged as it might sound. I have made peace with the
demons of my past, by helping those in the present.

In regards to hobbies, if you learned to
knit, I would sit right beside you and do just the same. I’m not
opposed to expanding my horizons and I love to try new things. Like
you, my hobbies are rather mundane. I read, watch a few TV shows:
Only, Bones, Mad Men and The Walking Dead. I refuse to waste a
second of my life consumed in the brain cell disease known as
reality television. Shopping is an acceptable hobby, I don’t mind
it, but I am a man and we are genetically programed to despise it.
However, I don’t dislike it as much as many of my friends do.

The only exciting thing I take part in is
motorcycle riding. A few of my buddies and I get together a few
times a month to ride. It’s liberating. Have you been?

You can’t cook, and you like tea? I can
accept that. It’s refreshing to hear such honesty. I’m no Betty
Crocker myself, but I can cook thee essentials: popcorn, hot dogs,
frozen pizza, and if I’m feeling a little daring, I’ll make
spaghetti. Although, I must admit, I can grill. Another one of
those manly preprogrammed attributes.

Tea is cool. I drink it occasionally, and I
do love coffee. I know that’s like a cardinal sin to speak to a tea
lover about coffee. But I did. Please don’t sue me. LOL. What kind
of tea is your favorite? I’m partial to sweet tea or others of the
cold variety. I leave the hot flavors alone. Straight black coffee
is my only hot beverage.

In the interest of keeping this email from
becoming a book, I’ll leave you go for now. Even though I could
probably find a hundred more things I’d love to talk about and
share with you, in due time.

Affectionately, Suit Master

P.S. You are right, it was Poe and I could
never think of him again without thinking of you. You should accept
my compliment as flattery. I’ll flatter you whichever way I
can.

P.S.S. “Since love grows within you, so
beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul.”

He was abused as a child? If that’s not like
me, I don’t think what is. As much as I love his emails, the more I
hear, the more I’m skeptical. Perfection is an illusion and I just
pray he’s real. That this isn’t some sixty year old man sitting in
his basement, jacking off to my picture and typing me these emails
knowing damn well no woman could resist them. I know it’s
impossible for me to, and I’m not even supposed to want to date.
For some people he might be less exciting because he’s not trying
to bait me or drawl me in. I find that sexy. Confidence in one’s
words is one of the hottest things imaginable. Think about reading
all of those books that are erotic romances and if those authors
couldn’t confidently produce hotness with their words. Then you
would be left with crap like. “Johnny kisses Margaret and it was
real nice. She gets a funny feeling between her legs.” Honestly,
that’s how it would be if I wrote something like that, I couldn’t
write a book, even if I tried. Cosmetics is my passion.

Honestly, I have no idea what I am spouting.
I’m tired, hungry and I’ve got to drop by Arby’s on my way home to
grab a bite to eat. An email to the hot Suit Master will just have
to wait until tomorrow. My stomach is too angry with me.

Chapter Eight

Wednesday

“Good morning, Lex.” Roni greets as I walk
into the kitchen, wearing a black cotton dress, my red heels and a
chunky red rose pendant necklace.

With a puzzled look, I stop next to the
breakfast table. “What in the hell did you do with my best friend?
I want her back.”

Sitting before me is my vintage rose printed
three-tier dessert stand overflowing with delicate pastries. Next
to it sits two miniature white scalloped edged plates, my tea
already served in a white cup with saucer and my best friends
wearing a tighter fitting black t-shirt and jeans. Have I walked
into the twilight zone or what? Maybe I need to go back to bed.
Something isn’t right.

Chuckling she shakes her head and with her
hand she gestures toward my morning seat. Slowly and unblinking, I
glide into my extended chair and scoot forward, still staring at my
best friend in complete disbelief.

“Don’t look at me that way.” She laughs, her
face radiating a giant smile.

She has to be on some kind of drugs. This
isn’t my Roni. My Roni is a bitch in the morning. She also wears
baggy shirts and has bags under her eyes. This Roni has rosy tinted
lip balm on and her pretty eyes are wide-awake and glimmering. What
the heck?

“It’s hard not to. We’ve lived together for
years and I can’t remember a time you’ve been this awake, this
early, and wearing makeup and a half way acceptable shirt. I don’t
know what I walked into. But I know I want my best friend back. If
you’re some alien inhabiting her body, I don’t like it. Go back to
wherever you came from. I don’t care if you came in peace.” I state
pulling out all the stops with my attitude this morning.

“It’s only lip stuff.” She shrugs, popping
her lips.

“Uh-huh,
only
lip stuff. Since when
have you worn lip stuff? We own a cosmetics company and the only
stuff you use is the bath products. Not the cosmetics.”

Rolling her eyes, she takes a sip of her tea.
“Yeah, well, I figured buttering you up would be the only way to
get you to say yes.”

Ah…and there it is. She did this because she
wants something. Why couldn’t she just ask me straight out? I don’t
want to change Roni, I love her the way she is — sassy. Just as she
loves me, the way I am. Sure, my overly feminine ways have made her
gag a time or two. But, we’re best friends and that’s what best
friends do. Accept one another, even the things we don’t care
for.

“Say yes to what?” I press my mug to my lips
and grab a delightful white petit four from the bottom tier of the
serving tray.

“On Friday, the Devil’s Den is having a May
Day party. This is supposed to be the first time Bob and I go out
as a couple. He’s meeting a few of his buddies there, and you’re my
only best friend. I thought you could help a girl out and come
drink with me and dance. You know you love to dance and haven’t
gone in a long time.”

Okay, she’s laying it on thick. Desperation
is clinging to her every word.

“May Day is Thursday, and if you recall, I
don’t go dancing because my best friend doesn’t like it.” I remind
her.

I couldn’t tell you how many times since we
turned twenty-one, after I rid myself of Brian that I asked her to
go out with me to dance. The Devil’s Den is the only place in town
with an actual dance floor. It’s not huge, but the only other bar
in Heartfair is called Sassy Lassie’s and it’s not a place I’d
frequent, even on a bad day. It hosts a different type of crowd of
bikers and drunks, mainly the darker crowd of the local scene, if
you catch my drift.

“What if I promised I would let you dance
around me? I won’t dance, but I’ll grab a table by the dance floor
and pretend to dance? Does that work?”

She’s really grasping at straws.

Plucking another petit four and popping it on
my mouth, I slowly chew it, and look at my ceiling; like I’m
contemplating. I would have said yes right away. But making her
sweat it out is much more fun.

“Well…” She’s growing impatient.

Stealing another one of the bite sized sugary
goodness from the tray, I ask, “Where’d you get these?” To change
the subject and irk her a little more, this is such a powerful
position to be in.

Grinding her teeth and rubbing her finger up
and down the side of her white mug, she stares at me. I’m surprised
Sassy Britches has stayed calm for this long. She deserves a
medal.

“I ordered them last night from Barbie’s and
picked them up early. After I got dressed the fuck up and made
breakfast. Stop playing with me, Lex. I’m trying.”

Coughing with a smile, I desperately try to
hold back my impending full-on laughing fit that’s about to take
over.

“I...I know…you.” Damn, I can’t hold it back.
Grabbing my stomach, I lose it, belting out in full on tummy
rumbling laughter. Tears streaming down my face, I look over at
Roni, and she’s pissed. Steam is about to start shooting out of her
ears and nose.

Holding up my finger, I sputter out between
laughter, “I’m sorry.”

Crossing her pissed off arms across her chest
and leaning back she sneers at me. “Yeah, fucking hilarious, Lex,
so fucking funny. Laugh it up, bitch.”

Still laughing and swiping my tears, I
breathe in a few lungful’s of air to calm my overly amused
outburst.

Once under control, I look into her eyes and
apologize again, more sincerely this time.

“You’re forgiven, now are you going or
not?”

Nodding, I take a long drink of my tea to
finish it. “Yes, I would have gone without you having to put on
this charade. Although I do love seeing you like that.” I gesture
to her body. “And I loved these sweets. You did a great job. But,
Roni, I’m your best friend and if you need me to hold your hand
through a kind of first date thingy, then I’m there. I’ll always
be, don’t you worry. However…”

She cuts me off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I
have to dress up a little more than usual. I’ll let you pick out my
clothes, as long as it’s not heels or a dress.”

“Deal.” I reach across the table and she
shakes my hand with a smirk.

“Soooo…you wouldn’t want to invite the Suit
Master on Friday would ya?”

What the...? How did she…? Oh, right. She
knows all my passwords.

“Been snooping in my emails again, I see.”
Teasing her, I stand and take my cup and hers over to the sink and
rinse them out. Leaving them for my maid to come and wash when she
drops by today. I have a maid that comes three days a week to
sweep, dust, do laundry, yard work, and other household chores. Her
name’s Bonnie and I’ve used her cleaning service for the past three
years. The best thing about Bonnie is she’s meticulous and doesn’t
use harsh smelling chemicals. I don’t want my house stinking of
bleach when I come home.

“Yes, I always snoop. When you don’t tell me
things, I really don’t have a choice.”

Rolling my eyes in her direction, I toss my
hair over my shoulder with a huff and walk out of my kitchen to
grab my purse by the stain-glassed front doors. Coming back into
the kitchen, I reply. “I’m off to work. And yes, I am talking to
him, and no, I will not be inviting him. The more emails I read,
the less I believe he’s the real deal. Men are not that
perfect.”

As I reach the back door I turn and blow her
a kiss and give her a “See ya.” Then off I go down the back steps,
across the small stone path to the garage. I think I’ll drive the
bug today.

I own three vehicles. A Jag, to show off to
clients and let’s face it, it’s a sexy car. I also have a new VW
Bug; it was a Christmas present to myself. It’s a metallic toffee
brown color with tan leather interior and a large moon roof. It’s
superbly divine. My final vehicle is technically mine but Roni
drives it. It’s a bright blue Chevy Avalanche, a company vehicle
that we use for pickups and other work related duties. Since she
runs the assembly and warehouse part of the company, I let her
drive it. I’m not much of a truck driver myself.