“Bored with you already, is he? That must be a new record, even for him.” I whirl around to see Marjorie with a cigarette dangling from her crimson lips.
“Fuck off you cow.” I turn back on my heel and climb into the waiting car. No sooner than the door shuts, the tears start flowing, thank god for tinted windows. As the car pulls out I feel a mixed bag of emotions, shame, anger, disgust and the most upsetting of all, yearning. I hate myself for wanting him almost as much as I hate myself for walking away. Now I have a two-hour drive back to the city to think about it.
Chapter 4: The Apology
Just get through this shift. It’s not like you knew the guy, and it’s not like he matters. Move on. I walk into the diner with my head down. After my late night and enough tears to fill a bathtub, I know my eyes are puffy. You never should’ve gotten swept up, this is real life, not some fairy tale. I wrap my uniform’s apron around me like a hug, comforted by its familiarity. I’m not going to say that this is where I belong, I haven’t been busting my ass for the last six years to say that. However, last night was an eye-opener. If that’s how the other half lives, and acts, then I’m happy I’ll never be in their inner circle.
I grab my time card, and Brianna pops up beside me, phone in hand. “Oh my god, you made the news Kendra! Can you believe it? Tell me everything. You got to ride in a helicopter, are you kidding me? Why didn’t you call me? Did you stay the night? Tell me, tell me!” She’s so giddy I want to smack her.
I glance at the news article she has open on her phone. Sure enough, there’s a picture of me walking arm-in-arm with prince charming himself, the helicopter sitting in the background like a movie prop. More like I was the prop. I grab her phone and skim the article, apparently the charity event was for the Heart and Stroke Foundation. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Ever since mama died from her heart attack, that foundation has been important to me. I make a donation every year, despite the fact that I’m scraping by. I remember all the peacocking and self-congratulatory speeches from the night before. After hours of sitting there, I still hadn’t heard a single word about what charity the fundraiser was for. My mood flashes back to darkness. Leave it to a bunch of rich people to turn a charity event that should mean something into an infomercial about themselves.
“Well? Are you gonna leave me hanging here?” Brianna interrupts my thoughts. “I want details. Don’t leave anything out. Were there any celebrities?”
“No, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” Matthew’s mocking smile flashes in my mind, and my eyes brim back up with tears.
“Hey, what happened?” She touches my arm. “Are you ok?”
I nod and head out to the dining area. We grab some rags and spray bottles and head out to the booths to wipe down all the tables before the dinner rush comes in. It also gives us a chance to talk without the curious ears of prep cooks listening in.
“Spill it.”
“It just wasn’t fun. It started out ok, but then we ran into his ex, and she’s straight up bat-shit.”
“Really? Did she talk to you?”
“Yeah, she kinda threatened me actually. Like I said, she’s off her meds or something. And the speeches these people sit through, oh my god, I thought I was an expert in sitting through boring lectures after so much college, but this was ridiculous. They just talk, so people will look at them, but they don’t say anything.”
“Ok, that sucks, but what happened with you and Matthew? Stop holding back.”
“At first, he was so great. He looked like a movie star, and he handled his ex pretty good. Then we started making out.”
“Now we’re talking!” Brianna stops pretending to work and focuses on me.
“I just didn’t want to keep going. I know I don’t mean anything to him, and that’s not how I want my first time going down. Anyway, he’s just like the rest of those rich assholes. He thought he was entitled to everything, just because he has money and then he pretty much laughed in my face when I told him I’m a virgin.”
“Ugh, what a dick. I’m sorry it ended like that, hon.”
“Sounds like he needs some sense slapped into him,” a baritone voice rumbles behind us.
We both jump around at the unexpected intrusion on our conversation. It’s him! Matthew is holding a bouquet of white lilies looking sheepish. I don’t move, his eyes have me locked in place, plus I don’t trust my knees right now. Damn, I hate that he has this effect on me.