Double Dare(87)

And Marie lost her battle then, bursting out into full-fledged laughter, gale force gasps that made the few customers in the store turn to stare our way. I was so mad and humiliated at once that I glared at her, my eyes volcanic.

“I’m glad you still have a sense of humor,” I said frigidly, “when my life has been ruined.”

And the blonde heaved and gasped, trying to sit up straight on her small stool but failing, bent double from deep belly laughs.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, I know you’re in pain,” she apologized through wheezing chuckles, “It’s just … you’re a really funny girl, you know that?”

I wouldn’t even grace that with a reply, instead shooting her another frigid glare. How could she think this was funny? Hello, I was suffering in the ninth circle of Hell.

“Okay, okay,” replied my friend, holding her hand up in an appeasing gesture, schooling her expression into a reasonable semblance of seriousness. “I got it now, I’m under control,” she said, just a quirk of her mouth giving her away. “So you found the panties and what did Nick say then?”

And I wailed again.

“He didn’t say anything! He just stood there and took it!”

But Marie leaned back and shook her head.

“Not one thing? He didn’t say one thing to defend himself?” she asked, eyebrow raised somewhat skeptically.

“No, nothing at all!” I wailed. “Nothing at alllllll!” my voice rose about an octave higher, causing customers to look over at us again. Shit, I was going to get Marie fired if we kept carrying on this way.

But the blonde was unperturbed and took another sip of tea.

“Something’s off here,” she said musingly, her eyes contemplative as she looked off into the distance. “Something tells me that the situation’s seriously off. Guys who see multiple women usually have excuses, they try to justify it somehow. ‘Humans aren’t meant to be monogamous,’ ‘Neanderthals had multiple partners,’ heck, even ‘Mohammed had four wives’ and shit like that. Mr. Martin didn’t say anything of the kind?” she asked, eyebrow arched.

I shook my head miserably.

“Nope, nothing,” I replied in a small voice.

Marie was silent again.

“Hold on, let’s back up for a sec and tell me again exactly what happened when you confronted him,” she encouraged.

I took a deep breath, the events so painful, the wound throbbing excruciatingly.

“I was in Nick’s office but he wasn’t there yet,” I recounted, frozen. “I wandered around and saw that his jacket pocket was bulging a little and reached in. Voila! Out tumbled the panties,” I shuddered again at the memory. “Nick came back and I launched myself at him, screaming epithets, I was furious.” God, the memory made me want to bury myself alive, it was literally the lowest point in my life.

“And then what happened?” my friend asked, her eyes encouraging.

“And then nothing!” I finished emphatically. “Mr. Martin said nothing and I ran out of there.”

Silence from my friend again as she looked into her teacup.

“Well,” she mused. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but …”

“But what?” I pressed, my voice sharp. “What?” Anything would help, I was dying for scraps.

“Well,” she began slowly, “Do you think it’s possible that …? Don’t take this the wrong way, Tammy, but do you think it’s possible that you didn’t give him time to answer? That you were like a rocket exploding in a small space, all fire and fury and vengeance, and then just took off before he could get a word in?”

“No,” I shook my head vehemently. “He had a chance, he could have spoken if he wanted to.”

But Marie shook her head.

“I’m not so sure honey,” she said gently. “Just step back for a moment and think,” she added soothingly. “Today, you rushed out of the office, you rushed up to the Bronx, manhandled your way into your old apartment, and then rushed back down here and burst into the Pink Cherry. Maybe all the rushing around was … ah, a little rushed, and left no time for explanations?” she suggested.

I stopped to contemplate for a moment.

“It’s true, I’ve gotten around a lot today,” I admitted. “Covered a lot of mileage. But that doesn’t mean I cut Nick off in any way or interrupted him.”

“No Tammy,” interjected Marie gently. “What I mean is that you never gave the man a chance to explain. You never gave him a chance to put out his side of the story, relay his point of view. It’s not even a question of interrupting, it’s that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise to begin with.”