Two Can Play (4 page)

She can't be home already? She's only been gone an hour.

Oh shit, I'm so dead. She's obviously come home early to be with me...

I'm feeling like a pile of crap right now. This is looking pretty bad, for the both of us.

But at least I don't have to see Abbey again. Whereas, Regan's her sister. Really awkward for them.

Perhaps Regan should have thought about this possible scenario before screwing me twice in her sister's apartment.

She turns off the shower and gets out, silently, wrapping herself with a towel and throwing one at me. It's a little on the small side, but it covers me up, just about. I have to make do as there aren't any others.

We open the door sheepishly and come out to face the well-deserved wrath of Abbey.

“
Sorry, it kind of...just happened,” I say lamely. I never thought I could feel so bad as I look at her devastated face.

“
Has it just happened before?” Her teary, hurt eyes narrow.

“
No, just this once.” I offer my lie, trying to limit the damage.

She slaps my face.

A stinging hard slap.

Her sister's cheek gets the same treatment.

“You're both disgusting, the pair of you... I hate you and I
never
want to see either of you again,
ever, ever,
” she screeches, red-faced, tearful and furious, her chest heaving with emotion.

She picks up our clothes from the floor of the apartment and rushes to the window and throws them outside into the rainy street below.

Regan begins to cry, huge wracking sobs.

Either she's an Oscar winning actress or she really is sorry.

I look for signs of real emotion but can't see any.

I'm going for the actress.

“Abbey, I'm so sorry...I couldn't help it...I don't know what came over me. I'll never, ever do anything like this again, I promise...,” Regan tries to appeal through her sobs.

“
Ree, you're such a slut. Why couldn't you find your own man instead of stealing mine?”

“
I didn't steal him...it was all Aaron's fault. He hit on me so much. I caved in....” She gives me a desperate look.

I did WHAT?

I'm incensed. But then I realize, I may not have initiated it, but it
was
half my fault. More than half my fault. I should have stopped her. Said that little and so important word “no” to her,
before
she stripped off her clothes and I became incapable of it.

Hell, I may as well take the rap, I'm burnt to a cinder here anyway...might as well go nuclear fallout while I'm at it.

“Yeah, well. Never could keep it my pants when there's pretty women like you two about, sisters are kind of a fantasy of mine... You don't want a threesome, do you?” I drop my nuclear bomb with a forced, lecherous grin.

I'm doing this for Abbey, not Regan.

I hope they'll be able to sort it out when I'm gone.

“
What?
I'm not hearing this, please say I'm not? You're the absolute pits, Aaron Garcia. You know that?
You bastard! For God's sake!
” Abbey spits out with venom.

I sigh in resignation. Never a truer word has been spoken.

“’Bye then, Abbey. It's been real nice knowing you,” I reply sadly.

“
Get the fuck out of my apartment, you animal. What I ever saw in you, I really don't know,” she adds nastily.

I don't like things ending this way with her; she was sweet and fun to be with. I liked her. I force myself out of her life, grabbing my carry-on and trainers from beside the door, and walking out with the small pink towel wrapped around my hips.

I collect my soaked clothes from the street and put them on in a secluded spot behind the building. I feel disgusting in mind and body. I get out my cell and call for a cab.

No celebratory dinner for me tonight. I'm definitely not in the mood anymore.

Not that I have anyone to go to dinner with, do I?

I'll go home and get fucked-up drunk on my own.

I've got a bottle of fizz chilling and that's all I need for company.

I stand waiting under cover for the cab to turn up.

There's no sign of Regan emerging in any case. That's got to be a good thing.

Hopefully Abbey will calm down and forgive her. Not that she deserves it, in truth, but whatever. She might have learned a lesson from this. I know I have. I don't like feeling like a real shit.

Hopefully I haven't created a deep family divide over me, because I'm really not “that” guy.

I have a reasonably decent code of conduct normally. This was all a bad mistake I want to forget ASAP. I'll put it down to hormonal overload. Being sex starved for a whole week, and Abbey getting me going, leaving me strung out and susceptible.

Godammit. Women are a lot of trouble, one way or another.

Not that I'd consider giving them up for a second.

I arrive outside the family house and walk across the small forecourt. It's a beautiful old, and very large Venetian building arranged over four floors. I have a self-contained set of rooms that I use when I'm here. My own apartment. It seems to suit everyone fine this way. We don't get to see each other much.

I divide my time between my family in Venice and my work in New York.

Things may change though now that Dad's gone. I've not got so much of a reason to visit anymore. But I suppose I ought to keep things going with my sisters. What little there is to keep going.

I put my key in the lock and turn. It doesn't budge. I look at it confused. It's definitely the right one. I try again and turn it with more force. No luck.

Very odd.

I take the key out and study it for damage, but it looks okay to me. I press the button for the housekeeper, the ancient and long-serving Maria.

A minute later Maria's croaky voice wafts through the intercom, announcing her arrival at the other side of the door.

“Ciao...”

“
Maria, honey, I can't get in...can you open the door please?” I ask pleasantly.

“
Oh, Signor Aaron... So sorry. Signora Garcia, she say no.”

“
Pardon me?” A cold chill runs up my spine.

“
No to you. No come in,” she repeats.

“
You can't let me in?” I'm having trouble believing I'm banned from my own home. “But I live here,” I appeal.

“
No. Signora Garcia say no more. New lock, see. No Aaron. Sorry, not me.”

“
It's okay, Maria...I'm getting it...can you pack me some clothes...clothes from room?”

“
No.”

“
No clothes?”

“
All gone. Immondizia, today, gone already.”

“
My things have gone in the garbage
?” My voice reaches an angry high pitch.

“
Dispiaci, si.”

“
Right,” I say, huffing out a long noisy sigh.

What a day of extremes. No home. No girlfriend. No fucking possessions. At least I have my thirty million to console me. 

I walk around the back of the building, to the large communal area where the garbage containers are housed, in case I'm in luck. Thankfully it is no longer raining. I'm grateful for that one small mercy.

I lift one lid. Empty. And the other. Also empty.

Absolutely fucking marvelous.

My mother has thrown me out of her house and her life. Erased me coldly and deliberately. And do I care? Actually, no I don't.

I ceased caring about her when I was twelve years old.

I think I did very well lasting out that long, living in hope of a miracle. She ceased caring about me before I was even born.

HER

I wake up and see the sun streaming in through the slats of the window shutters. I smile at the upturn in the weather. It influences my mood heavily when I'm writing, and I need to be in a good one today. Because here is where I feel at my most creative.

I sit on the side of the bed for a moment. I'm not a morning person.

I'm sluggish and dozy, and take at least two hours to wake up, despite the coffees I force down my throat.

I rarely take breakfast. I can't eat much in the mornings, as it makes me feel a little nauseous. I make up for it later in the day though. I can get through a huge amount of food with no effort whatsoever. You'd never know I'm such a glutton to look at me. I'm a little on the slim side.

I stand and look at myself in the mirror. I'm naked, that's how I like to sleep. I can't stand things twisting around me in bed.

Hmm, too thin...apart from the girl mountains.

I have a nice portion of those. Not huge but big enough.

I thank my mother regularly for the curvaceous top-half genes I've inherited. Dolly Parton has nothing on my mother. It's a shame I didn't get to inherit her matching bottom half as well.

I turn and look at it.

I wish I had more of an ass, a proper womanly butt. I'm too girlish in that way.

Not that the size of my ass matters anymore. As no one will ever get to see or touch it.

I put on some panties and my robe, and slip my feet into my fluffy slop-about slippers. I wash my face and brush my teeth in the bathroom while looking at the amusing, wild state of my matted hair when my cell rings.

I carry on brushing as I go and answer it. It's my best friend Christine. It must be midnight out there now, in LA.

“Hiya, babe, how's things.” I answer cheerfully.

“
Really bad, Kate. God, I hate him,”
she squeaks.

Another fight? This is not a romance made in heaven.

“Calm down, Chris, please...and tell me what's happened.”

“
He's such a dick in front of his friends.”

“
So, what's new?”

“
He dragged me out of the bar when I complained about the way he was talking to me. Pushed me and shoved me about. It was mainly the drink, I guess. But I was so upset. I had to get a cab back on my own.”

“
Are you at Ricky's now?”

“
Yeah. Nowhere else to go, have I?”

“
Go to my place. Let him cool it and worry for a while. You've still got that key of mine, right?”

“
That's real good of you, Kate. But I want to talk to him when he gets home.”

“
For God's sake, don't. Do it tomorrow. Leave and let him sweat about where you are.”

“
You know, maybe I should. I've had enough of his bad attitude.”

“
Yes, you definitely should. Leave, right now. Take some things and stay for a few days if you like. But don't let him in my place, okay?”