Chasing Vivi(28)

     



 

"Thanks. Good night, Vivi."

My exterior cracked and I allowed her to see much more than I ever  intended. This causes a huge problem, because now I appear weak and  defenseless to her. It's the exact thing that occurred with my dad. The  singular time I opened up, took a chance, and laid everything on the  table with him, it backfired-and our relationship never was the same. It  deteriorated bit by bit, until I don't even have any type of connection  with him anymore. Now what the hell do I do?

There's one person who can calm me down.

The phone rings twice before he answers, "Prescott. What's going on?"

"Weston, I need to talk. And I may need for you to put Special on if she's there."

"What's going on?"

"Woman problems."

"You?" And then the fucker starts laughing.

"This isn't funny. Not in the least."

"Calm down and tell me what's happened."

"Before I do, get Special on. She won't give me shit like you do."

"You sure about that?"

The way he says it makes me speculate, but I need another woman's  opinion. My gut tightens, but damn, I know their history and it's not  that different from mine.

"No, but do it."

I hear him yell, "Spike, come here for a sec. Prescott's on the phone  and needs our advice." That crazy ass nickname of his brings a brief  smile to my face.

When all three of us are on the phone, I tell my Vivi story, the  condensed version, leaving out as much Prescott-assholery as possible.  There are parts where it's impossible not to. Besides, Special knows me.  She's heard all the stories from her husband and me.

"First off, I can't believe you did some of that shit to her," Special says.

"You don't have to go there. I already know how bad that is. What I need to know is  … " What exactly do I need?

"Yes?" They're waiting.

"Right. So my relationship with my dad sucks. It's the worst. The last  time I opened up to anyone, other than Westie or Harry, it was with him  and backfired so bad that-"

"Stop. You can't compare everyone to your dad. He's a jerk," Weston says.

"Not only that, if you go around acting like a d-bag, she's going to put  up her walls and refuse to ever have anything to do with you," Special  says. "What exactly do you want with her? Just another notch in your  belt?"

"What?"

Weston cracks up. "Yeah, she used that term with me, too. It's from Mimi. Her grandmother."

"Yeah, sorry. I'm old-fashioned. What can I say? So, back to the point, do you just want to fuck her?" Special asks.

"Is that important?" I ask.

"Yes, you idiot. If you only want that, why does any of it matter? Do  what you have to do to accomplish your goal, fuck her, then move on.  But-and this is a gigantic but-if you want more, doing it that way could  destroy a potential relationship. See, to me, it sounds like Vivi wants  to see more of what's inside of Prescott. And maybe by opening up to  her you really haven't fucked up. It could be the best thing you've ever  done. Stop worrying about it and move forward. She seems really cool."

It all sounds so goddamn easy, but  …  "Yes, but now I'm weak."

"Weak? How are you weak?" Special asks.

"Because she could use what I told her against me. When someone knows  these kinds of things, it's easy for them to destroy you with that  knowledge. That's what happened to me with my dad. And being vulnerable  isn't something I'm comfortable with."

"Are you deaf? Jesus, you can't compare her to your father," Weston  says. "Your father is a narcissist. He's never had your best interests  at heart. When did he ever give a shit about you? Don't you remember how  we compared notes at Crestview? Our dads sucked. Vivi doesn't sound  like the type that would do anything remotely similar to what your dad  did. Think about the things she's already done. Her behavior is miles  away from his."

"I suppose."

"Relax and put yourself in her shoes. What would Vivi do? Ask yourself those questions," Special says.

"You're right. I knew I needed a woman's perspective. Thank you, Special."

"Just don't fuck her over or I'll come up there and kick your ass for being such a dick."

"Got it, Spike," I say.

After the call, the looming question hanging over me is what exactly do I  want with Vivi? The day I saw her in the coffee shop, my first reaction  was to fuck her. Then in the next few episodes after that, I was  convinced I'd do it. Now, I'm not so sure.         

     



 

She didn't go for that plan, didn't fall straight into my arms like all  the other women I know. Vivi has turned out to be different in every  possible way. And it looks like I'm changing a bit myself. No, make that  a lot. The old Prescott would've walked away without a second glance.  Though, I'm not a hundred percent sure if I like the new one yet.

The fact that I've engaged the help of Eric makes everything even worse.  He's the one who told me she was working at The Meeting Place, and when  they'd be running that Sunday. I probably should've kept him out of it,  but my devious mind wouldn't leave it alone. The amount of guilt I feel  over it stuns me. It's a goddamn noose around my neck. I'll make it up  to Eric and hold up my end of the bargain. If he's a good interior  designer, he'll end up making money and a name for himself because of  it. But if Vivi ever finds out he helped me, we're both fucked.





Chapter 17





Vivi





It came out of nowhere when Prescott opened up to me. I wasn't expecting  him to share such an intimate detail about his life, but it makes him  much more  …  human. The cold exterior he displays is replaced by  something less inhibited. He reminded me of the carefree Prescott from  Crestview, even though he never shared anything from his personal life  back then. The Prescott of today is locked as tight as a vault and  withdrawn, but he's also cocky, arrogant, and confrontational. Now I can  see why. Or at least I'm beginning to get a little insight into it. If  this is one situation with his father, I can only imagine what it  must've been like growing up with him.

An image of my dad cutting the turkey at Thanksgiving one year pops into  my head. He was the worst turkey slicer ever. Mom used to call him the  annihilator. He'd run around the dining room table making what he  thought were gobbler noises. I'm not sure if they were, but he'd chase  me and I'd threaten not to eat a bite of the bird. When he was finished  mutilating Mom's masterpiece, she would sigh, and then we'd all crack up  before eating. We never did know if he did it on purpose or really  couldn't figure out how to cut one properly. He died before telling us. I  never appreciated those times  …  not until after he was gone.  Thanksgivings were pretty lonely after that. We tried to make up for it,  but eventually gave up and went out to eat. Dad was simply  irreplaceable.

"How was dinner?" Eric asks, shattering my reminiscing.

"Oh, it was sort of brief. Prescott got sick and we had to leave. That reminds me." I grab the meal I never ate and plate it up.

"Hmm. Smells awesome."

"Mmm. It is."

"I hope he's not getting that stomach bug."

After swallowing my bite, I say, "Me too. That means I may get it. Ugh."

Then Eric sees Ms. Wolf. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, that was waiting for me in the car when he picked me up." I explain the meaning behind it.

"He doesn't bother with a small intimate gift, does he?"

"Oh, I don't know. The chocolate wasn't extravagant."

"No, I guess not. Hey, I wanted to ask you. What are you doing for Thanksgiving? It's Thursday, you know."

"Yeah." I've been trying not to remind myself, but that memory I just had brought it back full force.

"So?"

"Oh, gee, Eric. I have so many plans." I do an exaggerated sigh.

"Come home with me to my parents'."

"No way."

Eric is very kind and caring and the fact that he asked me is super  sweet. However, I don't think I could emotionally handle being thrust  into a happy family situation right now. His posture sags and so does  his expression right along with it. "Why not?" he asks. "You'd love my  family. They're the best. You'd have so much fun."

I jump in saying, "It's not that at all. And I'm sorry you took it that  way. Thanksgiving is just a hard time for me." That wasn't the best  thing for me to say. So I soften it with, "Besides, I have to work on  Wednesday night."

He instantly perks up. "All the more reason for you to come then. Work  won't be a problem. I can leave early Thursday morning instead. My  sister and brother will be there, and so will my grandparents. You'll  fit right in, Viv. In fact, you'll probably think your last name is  Thompson and not Renard."

I set my fork down and walk over to him, where I give him the biggest  hug I can muster up. "You are the best roommate in the whole wide world  and I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't met you. Seriously."