Running From Destiny (15 page)

Chapter 14

The weeks fly by fast now.
I’m focused on work and hanging out with Heather. Three weeks have gone by without a word from Jackson, so I’ve written him off. I guess he got what he wanted and I gave it so freely. I’m sick over it. But, it’s over and I’ve moved on. Or at least I’m trying to.

His remodel is underway, so my work is done at least until the construction work is completed.
The contractor’s take over at this point and we just monitor it. Valerie is heading it up now, and I’m done with my part until the build-out is done.

It’s Friday n
ight and it’s been a long week. Heather wants me to go out with her, but I am just not in the mood. I put in fifty hours this week and all I can think of is a hot bath and a glass of wine. I know I am not a big drinker, but these last few weeks have been stressful and I’ve given up on self-control. Plus, one glass won’t hurt. Or three.

By the time the evening comes to a close, I have finished the b
ottle and my head is swimming. I change the channel to Entertainment Weekly and freeze, Jackson is on TV with Madison Stone. Un-fucking-believable. I turn the volume up and listen.

“Madison Stone was indicted today on drug charges. This scene here is of her and her fiancé, Attorney Jackson Bentley, leaving the courtroom. Ms. Stone was at a hotel room in Brooklyn when DEA agents raided the property last month, arresting six people, including Ms. Stone on charges of possession with intent to distribute methamphetamine. Ms. Stone is a US Model, adorning the pages of Vogue, Cosmopolitan and Glamour Magazines for years. She has previously been in a rehab facility for drug addiction and an eating disorder. She will face a judge tomorrow for arraignment.”

Holy Shit! Now I know why I haven’t heard from Jackson. Wait....FIANCE? Well fuck a duck, I’ve really been played. He’s engaged? That cheating rat bastard! Never in my life would I picture myself as the other woman because I pride myself on not becoming involved with people already in a relationship. My dad cheated on my mother years ago and I’ve never seen someone so distraught. I could never do that to someone else, but I’m angrier at Jackson. He has to be a real asshole to cheat on his fiancé while she’s so sick.

I call Heather and tell her what I’ve seen.

“Fuck! You’re kidding, right? Hold on, let me get online.” She says. After she’s searched online, she groans. “Damn it, Al, I’m so sorry. I should have never forced him on you. I should have done what you asked and gotten rid of him that night in the hotel.” Heather is upset, and she doesn’t usually get upset.

“
Its okay, H. You didn’t know. At least I found out now and not later. This could have really gotten ugly. I’m glad that I know now.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m truly sorry. I knew you had a bad f
eeling about the guy. I was just so excited for you that it clouded my judgment. I’m sorry.” She continues.

“Enough, H. I accept your apology. It’s okay. Really.
It’s been over for weeks, I’ve already moved on.” I tell her this, but I find it hard to believe it.

“Okay, but promise me you a
nd I can go out tomorrow night? Your favorite place, Temptations has that Poison cover band......”

“No, not going back there Heather.
You know what happened last time. I’m not taking any chances. Think of something else.”

I can tell she’s pouting on the other end of the phone
, but she doesn’t say anything. This situation with Jackson has deterred her from pressing the issue.

“Hey, I know.
Let’s go to Club D, downtown. We can take a cab so we don’t have to drive.” I suggest.

“Club D? Yeah, that sounds good.
Come by here at eight o’clock tomorrow night and we’ll head down early, beat the crowd. Maybe stop and eat on the way.”

“Sounds like a plan.” And I press the end button.

I crawl into my bed and stare at the fan circling round and round. I’m hoping it will hypnotize me to sleep, but it’s not working. The wine I drank wore off at the news about Jackson and my heart aches, but it’s not his fault. Well, it kind of is, but mostly I am angry at myself for getting swept up in the excitement and romance of it all. Then I settle on disappointment in myself for actually believing that he wanted me for me. I tried to fight him off and lost the fight. And I should have known.....no, I did know that someone like him would never want anything from me. We are in two different universes and I mentally slap myself for thinking otherwise.

The concrete wall that he brought down just went back up and it’s sturdier than ever.
Never, will I allow someone into my heart, into my soul. No way, no how. It’s too painful to endure and I never want to go through this again.

I finally sleep, but not well.
I toss and turn, my mind flashing back to the story of Jackson and Madison. I finally give up and get out of bed, heading to the coffee pot. It’s only six a.m. and I have a long day ahead of me. Laundry, house cleaning, typical Saturday chores. Might as well get an early start.

I’m knee deep in bathroom cleaner when
my phone chirps. I pull my rubber gloves off as I head to the living room in search of my phone.

H - Rdy for 2nite?

A - Yep.
What shld i wear?

H - I’ll bring u a dress.

A - K

Not sure why she is bringing me a dress, considering we don’t wear the same size. I can only imagine squeezing my ass into one of her dresses and I refuse to go out looking like a popped can of biscuits.

She gets
here early, no surprise there. She walks in carrying a fire engine red sheath. “Wow, where’d you get that?” I ask as I take the dress from her.

“Sample sale.
Local department stores open up their doors a few times a year to get rid of samples, you should come with me sometime. It’s like Filene’s Basement and the battle of the wedding dresses. Large crowds gather and when the doors open, everyone charges in like its Pamplona running from the bulls. It’s awesome. I spotted this and grabbed it.”

“Nice. Thanks.
I hope it fits.” I say as I hold the dress up. She’s already dressed in a navy, satin dress and matching strappy heals. She looks amazing with the blue bringing out her eyes. She follows me into the bathroom, “Can you do my hair?” I ask her.

“Sure, get
me some bobby pins and a clip. I’ll do your makeup too.” She’s jumping around giddy. She pulls my hair up into a French twisty thing, leaving locks surrounding my face. “We need to get you some highlights.” She says as she struggles to get a pin in my hair. Her face scrunches up and she’s holding three pins in her teeth. I really wish my phone was with me so I could take a picture. She really is a sight.

She finish
es my hair and does my makeup. Smokey eye, heavy on the liner. Lots of mascara and just a light pinch of color on my cheeks. She finishes with a clear, glossy red lip gloss. I don’t even look like myself. I actually look....pretty hot. Something I am not used to, but it works.

I slip into the r
ed dress and it fits amazingly. “It’s a size twelve, Heather.”

“I told you your clothes were too big.” She tells me as I stare into the mirror
.

“But I wear a fourteen.
Have I lost weight?” I wonder out loud. “Maybe a few pounds. The last month has been stressful, stress can cause you to lose weight. Plus, you’ve not worn your true size in years.”

“I guess.”

We head out around eight o’clock and stop through a drive through on the way, chatting and chowing in the back of the cab. We talk about work and other boring shit going on in our lives and it’s fun so far, just me and Heather. No talk of men, sex or getting laid like the last time she dragged me out of the house.

Club D is already crowded and the music is thumping with blue strobe lights spinning around the dance floor.
There’s a heady vibe in here and you can almost smell the sex. Strong combinations of perfume, cologne and sweat permeate the air, bodies grinding on the dance floor, girls between guys, guys between girls and the solo girls jiggling their boobs and shaking their asses hoping to gain the attention of someone.

We squeeze through the crowd and fin
d two bar stools and sit down. The bartender is with us immediately and I order my typical wine, but Heather orders a whisky sour. Guess she’s going all out tonight. We turn our stools and face the crowd, watching and shaking our crossed legs to the beat of the music. “This is fun!” Heather yells over the music. I just nod, because she probably wouldn’t hear me anyway.

Then like clockwork, a hunk of a man approaches Heather, his eyes straying to her cleavage, which is exposed in the
low cut neckline of her dress. He leans into her ear and whispers something. She nods and takes his hand, heading toward the dance floor. Great. She’s done it again. This is the reason I don’t like to go out with her. She always finds a guy and I’m left sitting at the bar. Case and point? Miami.

She tries to pull me along with her, b
ut I pull back shaking my head. Not interested in being the bottom piece of bread in a macho sandwich so I wave her off and nurse my wine. I see the wall flowers in the corner, waiting for a hook up. Their eyes light up every time a man walks by, but none of them get asked to dance. That’s where I belong, alone and watching. But I decide to keep my seat at the bar. If I stand too long in these heels, I won’t be able to walk later.

So I sit and watch.
I can see Heather on the dance floor, bumping and grinding against the guy she is dancing with. Or is it guys? I squint, trying to focus through the blinking lights. Yep, she’s got one at her back, the other at her front. Slut. But she is a lucky slut. I watch her smile and throw her charms on both guys while I sit here nursing my drink.

This is wha
t happens every time we go out. She has fun while I’m left on the sidelines. Why did I decide to come out with her? Oh, because I actually thought WE would have fun. I mentally smack my head, cause inside....I knew that wasn’t possible.

I order another glass of wine and Heather finally comes back, bringing Frick and Frack with her.
Great. She’s hanging on the arm of Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. His friend moves to my side and looks me up and down, then smiles. He probably thinks I’m an easy lay, so I smile back and just let him think whatever he wants to think. They order drinks and Heather introduces us. She is draped over Doug and his friend is Jordan. Jordan isn’t bad looking, but he’s no Jackson Bentley. About 5’11”, light blonde hair and tan. A little beer belly, but overall not bad I guess.

“You want to dance?” He asks me.

“No, thanks. I have no rhythm and don’t feel like looking like an idiot.” He laughs at me.

“Nonsense, no one is paying attention.
C’mon.” He pulls me from my stool. I hesitantly drag behind him. I’ll dance one song, then it’s back to my drink.

The Black Eyed Peas, “I Gotta Feeling” comes on and I love this song so I find the beat and
actually start to enjoy myself. We dance and he grinds his cock against my back side. Is he hard? Oh no. This isn’t happening. I turn back to face him so he gets his dick off of me and step back a little. He keeps moving forward, trying to get closer and I keep stepping back. He finally backs off as the song finishes and I thank him and turn to go back to the bar, cause that’s the polite thing to do. Thankfully, Heather is still there with Doug so Jordan follows me, with his hand on my back causing a shiver, and not a good shiver.

We hang at the bar talking, and turns out, Jordan is actually pretty ni
ce. We discuss work and life in general. I’m about to tell Heather that I’m ready to go when Jordan invades my space and leans his head in for a kiss. I’m partially drunk at this point, so I allow him to kiss me. His lips are dry and his tongue snakes out trying to gain access. I pull back and smile, hoping he will get the hint and back off but no, he takes it totally the wrong way and plasters his lips to mine. He presses hard and my teeth cut into my lips. It’s painful, so I push him back off me. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go back to my place. I don’t live far from here. I’d love to see that full figure of yours, naked.” He whispers.

I am totally grossed o
ut and I push back harder, “No. I’m not leaving with you.” I struggle against his chest and begin to panic. He tries to force himself on me again and I push with all my strength to get him to back off. I glance at Heather and she is in the middle of a game of tonsil hockey herself, so I am on my own. “No, back off!” I scream at Jordan, but he doesn’t hear me.

He pulls me off of my stool and urges me toward the door, I shove him back and tell him no again, but he is relentless.

“I believe the lady sai
d
n
o
.” A familiar voice comes up behind us. We both turn and my jaw drops. Jackson has gotten in this guy’s face. Well, not exactly. Jackson is about four inches taller than Jordan, so he is looking down at him, his beautiful green eyes look almost black with rage.

“Dude, sorry man.
I thought she was here alone.” Jordan backs up, his hands in the air in mock surrender.