Delivering the Virgin(22)

And I laughed.

"Tan, I know, I know," I said ruefully. "I keep meaning to but things keep coming up."

"But what?" asked my co-worker, rolling her eyes. "Come on, you can come  to my place afterwards for some wine and dinner. What could be better  than red, red wine?"

I just laughed because how to explain? I had different priorities now  and that included getting home and eating dinner with my man. Tucker and  I usually ordered delicious take-out before retiring upstairs with a  bottle of wine, lounging in the big bed. And of course, if Tucker and I  are around each other for even an hour, it means there's gonna be sexy  times, some dick in cunt or dick in ass, or both.

But I could hardly scandalize my co-worker, so I just hedged.

"It's my divorce," I lied, biting my lip before looking straight her in  the eye. I hated lying and was bad at it, but it was just easier this  way. "You know, papers and stuff."

Tanya exhaled loudly, blowing her frizzy bangs off her forehead, her hair like a poodle's crown.

"Paperwork, schmakerwork," she said with a wry smile. "Seriously girl,  I've been divorced twice and yours is taking longer than both of mine  put together."

I colored then.

"Um, I dunno," I said lamely. "I'll have to ask my lawyer what's going  on. Besides, shouldn't we get back?" I asked, glancing at my watch  quickly, trying to change the subject. "Oh shit, it's almost one thirty,  we better jet."

And with that, we reached for our credit cards to split the bill.  Without thinking my fingers slipped to my wallet where all my cards  were, my driver's license, health insurance, gym membership jumbled  together and unthinkingly I pulled out Tucker's card and dropped it on  the table.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, the metal caught the afternoon light, glinting in our  eyes, and immediately Tanya was on it, snatching the rectangle and  looking at it closely.

"What is this?" she asked curiously, "this isn't yours, is it? I see it belongs to a ‘Tucker McGrath.'"

"Oh yeah," I stammered. "Oh sorry, wrong card, here, here's mine," I  said, burrowing in my purse and coming up with my humble AmEx. "Here,  take this," I said, offering it, waving it under her nose.

But my co-worker couldn't be deterred. She peered at Tucker's name even  more closely, squinting her eyes over her reading glasses.

"Laurie, why do you have this?" she asked. "You know, merchants are  supposed to confiscate stolen credit cards," she said slowly.

"It's not stolen!" I gasped, color rising to my cheeks. "I have that legitimately."

"Oh yeah?" asked Tanya skeptically, leaning back in her chair and  crossing her arms over her chest, the card still firmly in her grasp.  "Honey, they don't pay us much at HRA but there's no need to steal," she  said seriously. "I know this divorce has wiped you out but if you need  money, I can make you a personal loan."

I gasped again. How could my friend think I was so down and out, so poor  that I'd taken to swiping other people's stuff? But Tanya just shook  her head.

"Honey, like I said, I've been divorced twice, been through the wringer  twice and it wiped me out both times," she said with wryly. "Why do you  think I was biking to work for a while? Because my last ex took my car  and I had no money for a subway ticket. That's right, not even five  dollars a day for transportation, I had to fucking bike to work last  winter, through snow and sleet, I practically got pneumonia."

Holy cow, I sat back at the table, astounded. Tanya had been so down and  out? I hadn't realized, she'd said she wanted to get in shape and was  biking to improve her fitness, I'd never suspected.

"Fuck that," the blonde said bitterly. "WTF, who wants to bike through  snow? I had no money, that was the real reason, ‘my health' be damned.  So tell me why you have this," she said sternly, shaking the card again.  "Seriously girl, if you're hard-up, I can help, I've been saving like  mad the last two years."         

     



 

I sighed.

"Tan, I would never do that to you, neither of us make much working for  the city," I said wryly. "You need every cent you earn. We both do," I  said. "But seriously, the card is legit. It's owner  …  is letting me  borrow it," I stumbled, a blush rising to my cheeks.

"Borrow it?" asked Tanya, again staring at me over her glasses. They  were funky green today, studded with rhinestones on the sides. "What  does ‘borrow' mean?"

"Well, he, I mean Tucker, is letting me access his credit for the time  being," I said lamely. "You know, I'll pay him back and stuff."

But Tanya just shook her head, not believing my lame explanation for an instant.

"Out with it," she said, her bony fingers clutched around the card. "I'm  looking for an excuse not to go back to work and this is it. So out  with it, the whole story," she commanded.

And I shook my head, helpless. I knew my friend. She has a good heart  but was like a bloodhound sometimes. Once she had her nose to a scent,  she didn't let go, following a trail relentlessly. So I gave in and told  Tanya everything, of how Tucker was my delivery man, how I'd ordered  shampoo my first night and slept with him that same night.

"Holy shit," said Tanya, wrinkling her brow. "You fucked your delivery  man without knowing his name?" she said in a semi-loud voice.

"Shh!" I hushed her, looking around, embarrassed. Fortunately, NYC is a  loud place and no one could hear over the cars rushing past, the din of  other diners' conversation. "Sort of, well yes, I did," I admitted.

There was silence for a moment before Tanya whooped.

"You go girl!" she shrieked, reaching out for a high five. I clapped her  palm, unsure exactly what she was referring to. But my coworker was  only too happy to elucidate.

"Honey, you're young, you're pretty, you should have as much hot sex as  you can," she advised, nodding her head approvingly. "Take it from me,  I'm fifty-five now and no guy wants me," she said. "I'm all skin and  bones, dry and aged, only a blind guy would be interested."

I protested, still looking around, hoping no one could hear us.  Fortunately, everyone else seemed too into their own conversations to  care.

"Tanya, of course men are still interested in you, you're an attractive  woman," I protested. "But seriously, can we talk about this later? Not  now," I said in a hushed voice, still looking around furtively.

But unfortunately, my co-worker has never been known for her discretion. Instead, she carried on in a loud voice.

"And rich too, this ‘Tucker McGrath' is a rich man," she said out loud,  looking at the Visa admiringly again, watching as the sunlight glinted  off the metal surface. "Man, you got yourself a good one, only  millionaires carry this baby."

I sat stock still for a moment, unsure of what I'd heard.

"Excuse me?" I asked slowly. "What do you mean, ‘millionaires'?"

And Tanya looked up at me.

"Oh Laurie, you're so naïve," she cackled. "Seriously, you've never seen  this card before? Well, I guess not, there aren't too many people in  city government who'd qualify for this gem. This is a J.P. Morgan  Palladium card, honey, the real deal. You can only get this if you have  ten million under management with the bank."

I was completely still, completely silent, my heart beating hard.

"Ten million?" I repeated, my mouth dry.

"Ten million," confirmed Tanya. "And the average cardholder has a net  worth of something like a hundred million. Trust me, I'd know," she said  ruefully. "My first ex had one, and I used to get to use it."

My mouth dropped open now, looking like a dead fish, lips blubbery and  wide. Slowly, I took the card from Tanya's hands, my fingers sliding  over the cool metal, the deep grey burnished with a rose hue.

"It must be called the Palladium because it's plated with palladium  metal, isn't it?" I asked, more to myself than anyone else. "That's what  gives it this pink color."         

     



 

And Tanya nodded sagely.

"Yep, you don't know much about money but at least you know your  periodic table," she smirked. "Look it up on Wiki, you'll see. But  honey, I thought you said you were dating your delivery man. How in the  world did a delivery guy get a card like this? It's his name on it,  right?"

And I shook my head, my brain going at a hundred miles an hour, the  world dropping out from under my feet. Because how did Tucker have this  card? How in the world could a humble delivery man be a millionaire, if  not a billionaire?

"Let's go," I said tightly, getting up from the table, not answering her question.

And we walked back to work, my head down, striding as fast as I could  with Tanya trailing me, peppering me with questions that I couldn't  answer, didn't want to hear.