Under Contract (The GEG Series) (25 page)

“Ding, ding, ding, ding—you are correct!” I shake a finger in the air (not the same one from before, of course).

“Do I need to fly to Germany to kick his ass, Sis?” She lies next to me.

“Nope, don’t bother wasting your frequent-flyer miles. We broke up, Ceese ... it’s over,” I say, trying to keep my composure and steady my quivering chin. I fail miserably at both.

“No way!” She sits up. “Who broke it off?”

“He did.”

“Why?”

“Um ... he’s been dealing with personal stuff and it’s made him act differently toward me. I don’t know, exactly. He wouldn’t talk to me for almost three weeks and then, one day, he decided he’s going to go back to the way things were with us. Apparently, I was supposed to jump on board with that!” I cry and take the tissue she hands me.

“You didn’t, and ...?”

“And that’s it—over. I had to return the funds I had left in my account.”

“Wait! He fired you from your job, too?” she yells. “That’s illegal!”

“Um ... well ...”
Shit!
“It was sort of under the table for now, so I have no documentation.”

“That’s a little shady.” Her eyebrows knit together.

“Well, it was a trial thing. If they felt it was working out, they would’ve provided me with a contract.”
Contract
... I hate that word! “I couldn’t pay my mortgage this morning.” I sniffle.

“We’ll figure that shit out—don’t worry!” She hugs me. “This explains why I haven’t heard back from that pussy-ass motherfucker.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t texted me back in weeks!”

“You text Mitch?”

“All of the time. I like fucking with him.” She shrugs. “Not the way you liked fucking with him, of course,” she adds, which makes me start crying all over again.
Damn, did I like “fucking” with him!
“Sorry.” She winces. “Okay, well, I’ve got the dogs and Pauline dropped the kids off at Mom and Dad’s, so rest up and get yourself back together.”

“CiCi, what are you going to do?” I sit up as she walks to the door.

“Nothing—what are you talking about? I’m good.” She continues on with her calm façade. Anyone who knows CiCi knows that “Calm CiCi” is really “Psycho-Bitch CiCi.” This normalcy she’s displaying—this is the shit that tells you to run for your life!

“Ceese!” I yell as she leaves. Fuck it. He deserves the wrath of CiCi O’Brien! Good luck, dude!

I shuffle out of bed and dig out some Xanax I have remaining from my time with Josh. I’ve decided this moment requires a good night’s sleep. Popping two of them, new marketing slogans come to mind.
Xanax—the little pills in a bottle that helps you with the fish that slips out of your hand!
Nope.
Xanax—helping you not panic through the suck pump that is life!
Yes! I should’ve gone into marketing!

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle ... plop.

“My pajamas are not fucking ugly!” I mumble before drifting off.

6:00 p.m.

“Where’s the key, Pauline?” I talk low into the phone.

“In the hanging plant there.”

“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later,” I say before hanging up. Slowly, I unlock the door and walk in.

Silence. Dead silence.

I search the rooms downstairs and finally make my way up. She must still be in bed. I open her door and creep in. Ugh ... bed.
Bed and Charlotte.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m down to my underwear. Cautiously, I climb in next to her and move her hair away from her neck.

I lean down.

And ...

I sniff.

I sniff again ... long and hard.
Mmm ... Charlotte.
I take in the sight of her: her long wavy hair, her cute little ear, her lovely curves, and her ... ugly-ass motherfuckin’ pajamas. What the? As if the baby-shit gold wasn’t enough, there are sea turtles swimming around the circles of tie-dyed art. I can’t help my silent, shaking laughter. Charlotte gasps and turns her body in a panic.

“Mitch?” she asks, sounding completely confused by my presence. She rubs her eyes.

“Yeah, baby ... it’s me.” I lean forward and grasp her lips with mine.

“What are you doing here?” She pushes me away and turns her head.

“I’m following through on what I said.” I take her hand off my chest and plant soft kisses on each knuckle.

“What you said when?” She pulls her hand away.

“My text.”

“What text?”

I grab her cell phone off the nightstand and lie on my back. “This text.” I show her.

“So your plan to ‘fix us’ is climbing into bed with me almost completely naked and scaring the fucking shit out of me?” She makes the face that means a smartass comment is going to fly out of her mouth.

“Whoa ... wait a minute!” I cut her off. “At least I have the decency to be naked! Nothing says
scary
like these pajamas, baby.” I pull at them and laugh a little.

And there it is ... her sexy little smile.

“God, baby, I’ve missed you,” I whisper and lean forward to kiss her again.

And there it goes ...

“Mitch.” She sighs.

“Is there a story behind these, baby?” I tug at them again.

“They were a gift from a friend of mine.”

“Some friend.” I push her hair behind her ear.

“Well, we do this on purpose. For birthdays and holidays, we buy each other the most hideous gift we can find. It’s become quite the competition.” She laughs nervously. “I actually like these, though. They’re the most comfortable PJs I’ve ever had, and the softest. Feel.” She holds the material out to me. I give it a better feel this time. Wow ... it is crazy soft.

“You’re softer.” I lean toward her ear as my hand goes under the shirt. My knuckles skim over her belly, and she gasps. “That sounds promising, baby.” I nip at her earlobe.

“Mitch, stop.” She pushes my hand away. I open my mouth to say something, but her phone pings in my hand. Out of habit, I look down to read the message from Jay Baby.
Jay Baby?

CiCi gave me the cliff notes and she’s calm.

Cue the psycho music, please!

So listen ...

Imma be over in 10 min.

Mouth shut.

Legs open, Charley.

Imma face-plant into your pussy.

Girl—Imma do the alphabet.

Imma A, E, I, O. O. O ... U!

Imma be a plumber and plunge my tongue into that shit.

Imma hide my face in there like it’s in the Pussy Protection Program!

Imma smack it up

Flip it

Rub it down

All niiiight!

Imma make your legs shake gurrll.

Then Imma listen to you whimper as I make you accommodate my girth

And get lost in the rhythmic beat of my balls slapping that fine ass.

Love you, baby!
:)

“Mitch, what’s wrong? You look like you’re gonna murder somebody,” she says as she reaches for her cell. I smack her hand away hard. “Ow! What the fuck is the matter with you?” she yells. I jump out of her bed and pace as I look at past conversations with this Jay guy. It’s one sexual comment after another.

Your ass is begging to be fucked in those jeans!

Nobody’s tits fill my hands like yours.

You know that time when I didn’t think about fucking you? Me neither!

I can’t read anymore. I go out of the text and see his picture. I tap it. He’s behind Charlotte making a “hell yeah!” face. His hands are cupping her tits and she’s laughing while kissing his cheek. I toss the phone on the bed next to her. I feel like I’m going to vomit. I grab my pants and throw them on. Charlotte looks at her phone then up at me, panic on her face.

“Wait, Mitch, this isn’t—”

“How long?” I yell and pull my tank top on over my head.

“Wait, it’s not what you—”

“How long?” I ask again through clenched teeth.

“He’s been one of my best friends since we were kids!” She jumps up and races to me. “Mitch, please listen!” She palms my face. I rip her hands off and push her away.

I feel nothing but raw anger crushing my chest. My heart is aching. How could she do this to me? To us?
Us?
I’m fucking delusional! There was no “us”!

“Mitch,” she cries, “can you pass me my phone and that towel over there?” I look down at her. She’s on the floor holding her right arm up. Blood pours down it.
Shit!
I forget my anger and race the towel over to her. “Phone, please,” she says through her tears. I pick it up and hand it to her.

“You’re going to need stitches,” I say, wrapping the towel around her forearm. I reach down and pick up the frame she cut herself on when she fell. When I pushed her. I didn’t even hear her crash into this table with the framed pictures—I was so mad. I turn the frame over. It’s us.
Us.
CiCi took this picture in the backyard. I pick up the other frames. The kids, and two more of ... us.
Us.
I’m so confused.

“I want to show you something, since you won’t listen.” She holds her phone out to me. “This is Jay and his boyfriend, Victor.”

I take the phone and look at the picture of Jay kissing Victor. I swipe to view the next picture. One photo after another of a gay couple very much in love. I look up at Charlotte.

“What you read is part of an inside joke I have with Jay. He’s the one that bought me these PJs. We have this opposites game—well, that’s what we call it. I ... forget it. I just wanted you to know.” Her chin quivers. “You can go now. I’ll call CiCi to take me for stitches.”

“Baby ... I’ll take you.” I don’t even try to hide the ache in my voice.

Charlotte slowly shakes her head while looking down. When her gaze finally moves back up to me, I see tears streaming down her face. “I think you’ve done enough to me, Mitch.”

And there it is again—the crushing in my chest.
I came home to fix us, but have managed to permanently destroy us instead. “Please, baby ... I don’t want to lose you.” My voice cracks. I bring a shaky hand up to her cheek to wipe her tears away, but she jerks her head back. I’m trying everything I can to hold it together here, fighting back the stinging in my eyes of my own impending tears.

“I don’t want to lose me either, Mitch. Please go.” Her eyes plead with me.

“I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right,” I say, but she ignores me as she brings her cell to her ear.

“Ceese, I need you to drive me to the hospital. I fell and sliced my arm on the glass frame I broke.” She doesn’t even mention me—the reason she fell.

I get up, grab the rest of my things, and leave. I’m pretty sure leaving is the wrong thing for me to do. I’m also pretty sure I don’t know what the right thing is.

One hour.

I’ve been sitting in my car, staring at my white knuckles fisting the wheel.

I’m a coward.

When did I become such a fucking coward?

When I had
someone
to fight for, not
something
.

Fucking coward.

And—where the fuck is CiCi?

I wasn’t bad at this the first time around. I was actually pretty good at it. Then again, I was young and naive. I thought Kelly and I had our whole lives ahead of us. I know better now.

God, I never thought I’d feel this way again. I was so sure Kelly was it for me. Until Charlotte walked into my life, I’d never been so unsure about being so sure—again. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her. So, I handle it by pushing her away. The irony chokes me and tonight’s episode has me gasping for what feels like my final breath.

I’m a coward.

I’m scared, so I run.

She’s right.

I’m just like him.

I know what it feels like to be abandoned. Kelly abandoned me—not her intention, of course, and it certainly was not her fault. Still, I can’t help but find my grief travel down this road every so often. She left me. It’s a God-awful pain. I can’t imagine how much more intense it is for Charlotte, now that this has happened to her twice.

How could I do that to her? I just dropped her like she was nothing. It killed me to do so. I know why I did it, but ... she didn’t.