My tone got even harsher. “How do you live? Off a pile of your daddy’s money? I mean really, who gallivants around all day, drinking overpriced coffees and having champagne in the park?”
Before I could react, he stood and walked out the door. I sat, frozen in place. The hottest man who'd ever shown any interest in me was sitting in my condo, only moments away from ravishing me on my bed, and I drove him out. Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut?
I finished the rest of the bottle of red. I went to the fridge, pulled the spoon out of the neck of the champagne bottle, and finished it. The whole time I was trying to keep my mind from whirring. I am so stupid. Repeat.
Over and over, I’d pick up my phone and set my phone back down. Jay hadn’t texted. The drunker I got, the more antsy I became. The antsier I became, the more I had to hike my dress back up. I’d been trying not to throw anything, but I broke down, lifted a scatter cushion high over my head and chucked it across the room. It didn’t make me feel any better.
The action had caused my tit to pop out of my dress and my bra. For the zillionth time that evening, I started to hitch my dress back up. In my drunken anguish I looked down at my sad, lonely boob. A tit that mere hours ago was being kissed and sucked by Jay. Gorgeous, fun, sexy Jay. My womb contracted at the thought of my loss. How could I undo this entire evening? Take it right back to the sofa?
Without further thought, I pushed my dress and bra down around my waist and took a selfie. I cropped my head out and left a slight bit of my pink dress so there could be no doubt of whose tits they were. I texted it to Jay, with no words. Heh, my first foray into sexting. I toasted myself with my empty glass.
My phone rang the following morning. My heart leapt, but it was Jenny. I couldn’t face talking to her and hit reject.
I’d barely slept all night, I was too busy checking my phone for any response from Jay, but it had been radio silence. Countless times, I’d type out a big long apology - for both my behavior at dinner and the sexting, and countless times I’d deleted what I’d typed. I should phone him, talk to him and apologize like a normal person but I didn't have the courage.
Nor could I face telling Jenny what had happened.
I dragged myself out of bed and rummaged through my bathroom drawer for painkillers. My head throbbed, I was paying the price for drowning my sorrows but I deserved all the emotional and physical pain I was suffering for the way I’d treated Jay.
By noon I still hadn’t heard anything from him though Jenny had texted a wink. I guess she figured he’d stayed the night. And that I was wrapped in his arms right now, having morning sex. Which I should have been. Could have been. If only I’d kept my big mouth shut.
By early evening I still hadn’t eaten and put another piece of lasagna on a plate. I sat in the same seat I’d been sitting on last night when I’d decided to verbally rip apart my houseguest. Rude! I had been plain rude and my poor, dearly departed mother would be ashamed I’d treated anyone that way, whether they’d deserved it or not. Regardless of whether I’d been trying to get naked with them or not.
I picked up my phone.
Sorry. My behavior was inexcusable.
A few deeps breaths later I managed to push send. It was too difficult to sit in the same place, looking across at the empty seat across from me. I picked up my plate and moved to the sofa.
After every bite of food, I’d pick up my phone and check for a reply. There was no need to do this, I had the volume set to maximum, and the vibration turned on. Still, I couldn’t help myself. Hope is a difficult thing to quash.
15
Bleary eyed, I tossed my bag on my seat, slipped off my sneakers and put on my heels. I’d dragged myself to work early, so I’d get there before Sam. I figured if she’d been there to watch me walk in I wouldn’t be able to make it to my desk.
I never did phone Jenny back, but I’d sent both her and Sam texts saying things didn’t go well and that I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. I hoped Sam would respect my wishes.
Fortunately she didn’t make one reference to it, and we got on with our work. Yet another stupid waste of time new report Calvin had come up with. At least this one was only going to be monthly.
I dug around in my bottom drawer for some papers and came across the stack of emails that had started the whole thing with Jay. I took the folder out of the drawer and set it on the desk. It wouldn’t hurt to leaf through them, to confirm my belief that they proved Calvin was incompetent.
The file was still sitting there early afternoon, and I scanned through the emails. There’s no room for doubt, they show Calvin as a hideous man. Not only do they prove he doesn’t know what he’s doing, they show how rude he is to me even when I’m helping him. I kicked myself for helping him at all. Why did I help him? Ugh, I was so mad at myself for it, but still I put the folder back in my drawer.