Moore to Lose (16 page)

With a sigh, she walked away from the window and started to pack up her laptop. There was a bar on the walk home that had great pub grub — wonderful greasy burgers and hand cut fries. Mia was in the mood to indulge in a little food therapy. Add a cold Pilsner Urquell on tap to that and all would be right in the world again.

Entering the pub, there was one seat at the bar next to two handsome guys, both dressed in suits. Sitting next to them, they did not notice her as their eyes were trained on two blondes at one of the tables. Figures, Mia thought, blondes — the bane of my existence.

Sipping on her beer, she quietly observed everyone, trying to figure out their stories. Her burger arrived and the suited guy next to her turned around, “That looks really good,” he commented.

Mia had just cut the enormous burger in half and held up a half to him, “Want a bite?” And she gave him a devil grin.

“I can’t eat your burger,” he smiled back.

“You’re saying no to eating my meat?” She raised an eyebrow, the smirk on her face hard to control. “I’d never say no to eating your meat.”

He laughed and took the burger from her hands and took a big bite.

“You’re very good with your mouth.” She sipped her beer.

“And you are very funny.”

“This is true.” Mia acknowledged.

Thirty minutes and a shared piece of pecan pie later, Mia exited with the suited guy. On her way out, she smiled at the blondes. Score one for girls like her.

“So what did you end up doing on Friday night?” Seth asked on Monday morning, “I called here, your cell and your apartment to see if you wanted to join us for dinner after we’d had a few drinks, but you didn’t answer.”

“I ended up stopping into a pub on my way home for a burger, a beer … ,” she paused and smiled, “and some dick.”

“What? You got picked up by some guy and fucked him?”

“No.” Mia was shaking her head. “I picked up the guy and fucked him.”

Seth’s eyes narrowed, “BBC, you’ve been blowing us off a lot lately. How often do you do this?”

Mia shrugged, “When I feel like it.”

“Quantify, Bitch.”

“I don’t know. I don’t keep count.”

Eyes still narrowed, Seth leaned across the desk to Mia, “How many tables have we sponsored at AIDS benefits? How many benefits have we sat at and cried because the photos flashing on the screen were our friends — people we’ve hung out with, danced with, laughed with. I know gorgeous, brooding poet fucked with your head with what he did, but don’t you dare put your life in jeopardy over an asshole who can’t keep his dick in his pants. An asshole who I’m sure is miserable over losing what he had with you.”

Mia rolled her eyes, “I’ve got this under control.” If I’ve got being raped by two assholes under control, then I’ve certainly got being cheated on by a total player under control, she thought.

Standing to leave, Seth shook his head, “Sadly, you don’t,” and he turned on his heel and walked out of her office.

Mia was standing at the mailboxes in the lobby of her apartment building leafing through the contents of her overstuffed mailbox. She heard someone say, “Excuse me,” and looked up into the gray eyes of her neighbor two doors down.

Stepping aside so that he could have access to his mail slot, Mia smiled at him. She hadn’t seen either him or his friend since the day she shoved Tom’s naked skank out into the hall.

As she got into the elevator, he called out, “Please hold that,” and Mia pressed the doors open button and waited for him. He strode into the elevator with a confident gait. He was tall and wiry with short auburn hair.

“So, how have you been since … uh, that day?” He gave Mia a half uncomfortable, half amused smirk.

“That was quite a day, wasn’t it?” Mia smiled back. “I’ve been good.”

“The boyfriend is gone too?” He shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Oh yeah. That very day.”

“Wow. That was really something,” he was now amused, seeing it wasn’t an off-limits conversation with Mia. They reached the sixteenth floor and the elevator doors opened, “Hey, I’m just about to sit down and smoke a joint. Do you want to join me?” he offered.

Mia thought to herself, why not. She hadn’t gotten high in the longest time and it was a Friday night, so she didn’t need to be sharp in the morning. Besides she had no other plans.

“Sure, let me just go change and I’ll be right over. My name is Mia, by the way.”

He turned around as he was heading down the hall, “Lyle.”

Mia knocked on his door about twenty minutes later, a bottle of red wine, a box of Carr’s water crackers, a hunk of cheddar cheese and one of triple crème bleu cheese, in hand.

“I didn’t know if you had food and I’m starved,” she explained, “and that’s pre-munchies.” Mia hit him with the devil smile.

She sat down on his chocolate brown leather couch. On the glass coffee table was quite the assortment of drugs. Multiple types of pot — large green buds, a stringy red variety, Thai sticks, chunks of dark hash, multiple joints already rolled. There were also single-edged razor blades on the table and little glass coke vials, letting Mia know that the glass top was not merely for decoration.

Lyle returned from the kitchen with a corkscrew, some wineglasses, plates and knives.

“Picnic.” Mia smiled.

“Yeah. Kinda,” he agreed. Lyle poured them both wine and they clinked glasses. “To getting rid of old baggage,” he toasted.

“Here. Here.” Mia agreed, wholeheartedly.

Lyle picked up one of the joints and handed it to Mia, flicking the lighter for her. Mia inhaled deeply and coughed out the smoke.

“When did I become such a lightweight?” She looked displeased with herself. Pointing to the table, “So, which varietal are we smoking?” She handed Lyle back the joint.

“This is a combination of Hawaiian,” he pointed to some large bright green buds, “with a little bit of the Thai stick and some very finely chopped up hash.”

One hit and Mia felt as if she were already trashed. This was good shit. “So, I’m thinking this is maybe more than a hobby?”

Lyle laughed, his fair, freckled skin turning red. “Yeah, it is. You’re not going to narc me out or anything, are you?”

Mia dragged deeply on the joint and held it in her lungs for as long as she could before blowing out the smoke. Handing the joint to Lyle, she picked up her wine glass and laughed. “Narc you out? You just became my new favorite neighbor,” and they laughed.

“Well, you’ve been my favorite for a long time,” he smiled at her, handing her back the joint.

Lyle picked up one of the small brown glass vials and twisted off the black cap. With practiced expertise, he gently tapped on the tipped bottle, a small amount of cocaine flowing to the glass tabletop. With a single-edged razor blade, he began to chop the powder and in sweeping motions broke it up into lines. Picking up a cut-off straw from the table, he offered it to Mia.

She held up her hand, “No thanks, coke is not my thing. You have to scrape me off the walls, as it is,” and she continued to smoke the joint she was holding.

Lyle shrugged and bent down, quickly inhaling four lines and wiping at his nose as he finished. He licked his finger and ran it over the spot on the table where the cocaine had been and then rubbed his finger on his gums above his front teeth.

Mia carefully handed what was left of the joint back to him and instead of putting it in a roach clip, Lyle stubbed it out and opened a small wooden box on the table and extracted a joint. Mia wondered what the difference was between the joints on the table and the ones in the box.

Observing Mia intently, Lyle lit the joint, “My special secret blend,” he offered.

Taking the joint from him, Mia took a hit and could feel the “special blend” lighting up every cell in her body. The effect was immediate. A buzzing clarity coursed through her veins, molecules on high alert. She felt caged. Her clothes were constraining. She wanted to pull them off and stalk naked through his apartment like a Mountain Lion seeking its prey. The brown drape valence hanging along the tops of the windows bothered her. She didn’t know why, but it just did. The curtains were brown. She didn’t like that they were brown. It annoyed her. She wanted to rip them down.

After a few hits, Mia waved him off when he went to hand it back to her. “I’m so trashed. I’m just going to focus on this wine for a little bit,” but figuring out how to pick up her wine glass correctly was a chore. Come on, you can pull it together, keep talking, she told herself. “So tell me about your, umm, operation,” Mia motioned to the drugs on the table and hoped she could follow what he was saying.

“We deliver.” He grinned, looking like a bad red-headed teenager and making Mia think there was something cute about him in a non-traditional way.

“So, people call you. You tell them what is on the “menu” and then you deliver?” She wondered if what she was saying made sense. Lyle was nodding, so she guessed it did.

“I see you’ve done this.” Lyle laughed.

“Not in a while. But there used to be a place called The Church. Phone number was always changing. I remember them once delivering to me and my friends in a snowstorm.”
What the heck did I just say to him, Mia wondered. Maintain, Girl, maintain.

“No place like New York.” Lyle helped himself to some cheddar.

Mia looked around, noticing things in her stoned state for the first time. “Your apartment has such a great layout. You have both southern and western exposures.” I think it’s southern and western, she questioned in her head, the word western sounding odd.
Western? Is that a word?

She got up and the movement gave her a head rush. Everything spun for a moment and she waited for all parts of her body to catch up as she walked over to the dining alcove where Lyle’s apartment jutted out. The windows faced west toward the Hudson River. “Wow, you have two great views,” she observed. “The Trade Centers and the Hudson River. Oh God, look how filthy the windows are in my apartment,” the thought amused her that she was listening to her mother coming out of her mouth. Dirty windows? What was she thinking? She giggled at the absurdity. Putting her hands up on the window, she leaned forward, placing her right cheek against the cool, smooth glass. It’s chill was refreshing and she stayed like that for a few moments.

Lyle came into the alcove and was standing behind her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. “Your windows don’t look so bad. I like your windows.”

It was in that moment that Mia realized why she was Lyle’s favorite neighbor. He reached around the front of her cupping both her breasts, his thumb and forefinger rubbing until her nipples hardened. “Oh crap,” thought Mia, “I’m wasted and he’s touching me from behind — the ultimate turn-on for me. I’m so fucked. Literally and figuratively,” and she giggled again.

“I’ve loved watching you get fucked. You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve gotten off watching you and your boyfriend. I’ve come with you so many times, Mia.” He was whispering in her ear and Mia couldn’t decide whether this was creepy or hot and since she was so fucked up, and her inhibitions (and standards) significantly lower than usual, she went with hot.

Mia could feel Lyle’s hard cock pressing into her and she rubbed her ass up and down on it getting him harder. “My business partner, Nick, and I jerk off to you all the time and here you are in my apartment and tonight I’m going to jerk off inside you.”

Mia turned her head back to him and grabbed him by his hair, pulling his mouth to hers in a crushing kiss that she was controlling. “So, you want to fuck me, huh?”

“You know I do,” he was panting.

“Well if you want to fuck me, you need to make me come first.” Mia broke from his arms and sat on the dining room table that was right behind him, the movement giving her another crazy head rush. “Take my pants off,” she ordered and he unzipped her jeans and worked them down her legs, exposing pale pink satin bikini underwear. “Get them off, too,” she demanded. She needed to control this situation with him and even in her dazed state, she knew that the most she could give him was the illusion of control — but never control itself.