Flirting With Destiny(8)

“If you would shut your mouth instead of arguing with me, stop pissing me off, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s your fault completely and don’t think this isn’t coming out of your paycheck, Lauren, because it is.” He glared at me. “Just get in the car.”

Chip stormed to the driver’s door, leaving me standing behind the car, my head swimming with disbelief. He was doing it again; making a mountain out of a molehill and taking it all out on me.

He hadn’t always been like this and I wasn’t certain if it was a reaction to something going on in his life—maybe at work—that I didn’t know about, or something else. Whatever it was, he was acting like a real jerk and it was making me doubt myself. Every time he treated me this way, my stomach would twist and I’d get a sick feeling. And each time it happened, a little more of my self-esteem would be chiseled away.

I spun and strode up to the passenger door and yanked on the handle, but nothing happened. Chip had forgotten to unlock my side and when I pulled with angry force, I jerked like some kind of crazy woman having a seizure, hurting my fingers in the process. Then he released the lock and I pulled again, nearly knocking myself over.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too stupid to function properly in public. Chastened, I plopped into the seat, fastened my seat belt and folded my arms across my chest, staring straight ahead.

As Chip backed the car out of the parking space, he squealed the tires as he took off, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. I set my jaw hard, fearful that someday, that dent would be me.





Chapter 4

Lauren



The late morning sun laid ribbons of sunshine across a large vase of cut flowers that had been delivered that morning to my work desk at the insurance company. It was a peace offering from Chip, his way of apologizing for his behavior at dinner.

I sat, chin in my hand, in front of my computer. The screen could’ve been blank for all I cared. I wasn’t looking at it, my gaze stretched out through the glass, beyond the bland metal window frame and Venetian blinds, all the way to the parked cars on the street. I was lost in thought, captured by my own anxieties. The flowers were beautiful and I appreciated the gesture. I believed he was sorry, but there was still an underlying tension this morning. Ever since the argument at dinner, I’d been walking on eggshells. The kind-of-apology sitting on my desk made me feel only a little better.

Chip walked to my desk and said, “Lauren, it’s eleven. Why don’t you take your lunch break now, a little early? You can pick up my dry cleaning and then eat. I have a meeting late this afternoon with Don and Sheila Cunningham and I’m all out of clean shirts. Didn’t you pick them up on Saturday?”

Damn, I’d screwed up again. What was wrong with me? “Oh sorry, Chip. I’ll get right on it.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and reached out a hand to trail his fingers across my chin. “Where do you go for lunch? Sometimes I wonder who you’re with when you’re not back in an hour.”

I stared at him. “Oh I, I met Jules for lunch.”

He continued stroking my chin. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t know where you are.”

“Well, I was just with Jules…”

“It’s okay. I just worry about you. Don’t eat too much. Don’t want you to lose that hot body of yours. Too many calories and you’ll have to work out twice as hard at the gym.”

“I…” I couldn’t believe he just said that. Caught off guard, I wasn’t sure how to reply. I felt a chip of my self-confidence fall away. I startled, realizing how that metaphor connected with my real life. Chip was chipping away at my confidence.

“Oh, and later, if this meeting turns into dinner, I’ll call you and you can come meet us.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” I stood up and smoothed down my skirt.

“And remember, all smiles in front of Sheila. I want her to see that we’re getting along. Don’t want her to have the last time she saw us as the picture in her head. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course.”

I opened my desk drawer and took out my purse. Even though we worked in a small company in a town where pretty much every day was casual Friday, Chip liked for me to wear skirts and high heels to work. He told me he wanted to show me off. He also instructed me to wear my hair down most days unless we were going to a high society social event. That’s when he wanted it up. He said he just liked it that way and I always tried to please him.

Chip gave me a kiss on my lips and said, “Don’t be long, beautiful.”

“I won’t.”