“Really, Cassie. I don’t see what the problem is.” Blair takes a giant swig of chardonnay before continuing her plea. “Can’t you simply drop off my husband’s tux on your way home? He’s leaving straight for the gala from his office.”
No, Blair. Nothing is simple when it comes to your husband, Creepy McCreeperson. But of course, I don’t say that.
I’m the only one left who can pay Mom’s bills. My sister Aria got laid off, Carmen’s husband got injured at work, and Ceci is hiking through Budapest trying to find herself. I’m not even going to mention my brother’s whereabouts. Like father, like son.
“Yes, of course, Blair. It’s no problem at all.”
“Fantastic. By the way, I’m so glad you came around and decided to sign the contract with us.”
“Me too.” Like I had a choice. I plaster on a fake-ass smile and hand her the new pair of Manolo Blahnik I ordered, being careful not to drool all over them.
Blair catches my lingering gaze and gives me a smirk. “You best get going now, don’t want you to get stuck in traffic. The gala will start soon and Woodrow can’t be late.”
Oh, yes. Because Turtle Creek is known for its bumper to bumper traffic of Bentleys, Rolls Royce, and G-Wagons. I internally roll my eyes.
“Of course, just text me if you think of anything else you might need.” Giving Blair a tight smile, I pick up my purse and shuffle to my impending doom.
“Cassie! So good to see you again, and so soon. What a treat!” Barbie’s extremely cheerful demeanor is going to send me into a diabetic coma if she doesn’t tone it down a notch.
“Hi, Barbie.” I offer her a warm smile, it isn’t her fault she’s all rainbows and sunshine. “I’ve brought Dr. Wilson his tux for the gala tonight.”
“Wonderful! I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.” Her high ponytail bobs repeatedly with her nods as she dials McCreeperson’s extension. “Yes, I have Ms. Martinez here to see you… uh, okay.” She looks up from her desk, blinding me with another megawatt smile. “He asked that you please head straight to his office. No need to knock.”
“Okay then.” I nod once as I pass her, trying not to show my growing sense of alarm. I’m not exactly thrilled to be in close quarters with the good doctor. Our last encounter left much to be desired.
Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, I push open the door and step into Creeperson’s office.
Aaaaaand, I’m immediately blinded by what stands before me. McCreeperson in nothing but his boxers. His very tented boxers.
“I’m so sorry. Barbie told me to head straight in without knocking.” I spit out my words a mile a minute as I whirl around to face the wall. I don’t need to stare at the man’s junk any longer than necessary.
I hear shuffling before I feel his presence behind me. “No need to apologize. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of boxers in your line of work.”
I shoot out my hand, loosely gripping the hanger containing his tux with my fingers, waving it around like a madwoman. “Here is your tux for the evening, Dr. Wilson. Please let me know once you’ve dressed.”
After a couple of beats of silence, I begin to hear the rustling of fabric, and finally, a zipper being opened then closed. “All done, Ms. Martinez. You may turn around now.”
I whirl with the fury of an F5 tornado and begin to lay into McCreeperson. “I’m not sure what kind of personal stylists you’ve worked with before, but let me assure you that I have never—not once—in my entire career as a personal shopper seen a man in his boxers. Let alone, one who seems to be visibly aroused. If you would like for me to continue to work with your family, let this be the last time you make an insinuation of that nature again.”
“It wasn’t my intention to upset you, Cassie. I thought surely you’ve assisted a man with measurements before and therefore seen him in his skivvies. And as far as being aroused, that’s just my normal state. I’m a shower, not a grower.” The man has the balls to punctuate that with a wink.
I shudder in disgust while reminding myself of Mom and the money she so desperately needs. “If that’ll be all, I have to get going.”
I’m about to place my hand on the doorknob when McCreeperson speaks up. “Actually, could you assist me with this bow tie? I’ve never been good at getting these things on.”
“Of course, not a problem.” I begrudgingly set down my bag and stand on tiptoe to help the man with his tie. At five-two I won’t be walking the runway anytime soon.
“You know, Blair and I have an agreement.”
Lord, please don’t let this be going where I think it is…
“Our marriage is one of sheer convenience, you know.” His eyes narrow as he pierces me with his sleazy stare.
I’m about to shoot off another snarky remark when the door swings open. Thank god for Barbie. “Dr. Wilson, your car service is here.”
I mouth a silent thank you to Barbie, unsure if she knew what she walked into, but wanting to cover my bases just in case.
“Wonderful. Thank you, Barbie.” McCreeperson places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it before quickly releasing it. “Goodnight Ms. Martinez. It was lovely seeing you again.”
I turn away, unable to look the man in the eye and simply nod. That’s when I notice Barbie scurrying off as if she were on fire. God, I hope she doesn’t think I was getting all cozy with the McCreepster. I make a mental note to clear the air with her at some point. But for now, all I want to do is go home, bust out the vodka and watch re-runs of Desperate Housewives—my guilty pleasure.
Home. Sweet. Home.
I’m about to kick my feet up on my couch when there’s a knock at the door. That’s odd, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I quickly grab my trusty tube of pepper spray and it instantly reminds me of Ren.
Fucking Ren.
Since I live in an older warehouse conversion, our doors don’t come equipped with a peephole, making the first step in my security system a good ol’ fashioned holler.
Bellowing into the door, I ask, “Who is it?”
“Me, now open the door. I come bearing gifts!” Bella’s welcomed voice seeps through the cracks of the old metal door.
Quickly opening it, I find my best friend does indeed bring gifts. Bella holds up a large takeout bag from Renzetti’s, our favorite Italian joint.
Renzetti’s. Ugh. That also reminds me of Ren and how he wanted to take me there on the first night we met.
“What’s that face for? Not in the mood for Italian?” Bella’s brows drop in confusion as she makes her way toward my kitchen.
“No, that sounds perfect actually. If you hadn’t brought food, my dinner would have consisted of olives and vodka.”
Bruce lets out a snort of disapproval as he plops down on his doggy bed. I angle my head toward him and cock a brow, “Don’t you judge me, Bruce. At least I’m not the one eating straight out of a garbage can.”
Bella lets out a laugh. “Oh, man. He’s still doing that?”
“Yes, it’s his favorite pastime right along with butt-sniffing.” I pull the utensils out of the drawer before taking a couple of cartons to the coffee table where we end up eating most of our meals. “So, what brings you to my hood? Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not complaining and you’re always welcome. I’m just curious.”
After a beat of silence, I finally look up from the takeout box I’ve pried open and see Bella looking down at her lap, refusing to look me in the eye. “Uh oh. Spill the beans.”
“I don’t think I want to go to college in the fall.”
“Oh, god. Is that it? I thought you were going to tell me you got a VD from Mr. Wonderful!” I’m laughing so hard I have to put the container down for fear of spilling the pasta all over the floor. “Girl, that is not a big deal. I started working at Louvier’s when I was sixteen as an inventory clerk and eventually worked my way up to what I am today—a glamourous personal stylist with a six-figure salary to boot.” I roll my eyes, clearly indicating my sarcasm because this current gig is anything but glamorous. “No, but in all honesty. Do what you love and the rest will follow. If I’ve learned anything in my short life, it’s that life isn’t always guaranteed and that you need to make the most of it while you can.”
“You’re right, I know. But it’s still terrifying. I had my entire life mapped out and to think that it could all turn out so different… Anyway, I just needed some time with my bestie. Take my mind off of college, William, and his psycho ex. Tell me more about this oh so glamorous job of yours. Is McCreepster still giving you problems?”
“Yes! You will not believe what he did today.” I tell Bella about the latest shenanigans Dr. Wilson pulled, and it’s enough to make her whiskey shoot out of her nose.
“Oh, that burns! That burns!” Bella shrieks.
I quickly hand her a stack of napkins with one hand while wiping away a tear of laughter with the other. “I’m sorry. I should have issued a warning with that story.”
“You owe me for that.” Bella shoots me a playful glare. “I honestly can’t believe the man had the balls to do that to you! Has he no decorum?”
“None. The man doesn’t even care that, to him, I have a boyfriend named Bruce.”
Bella snorts, bringing one hand to her belly and the other up, making the universal sign to stop. “Nooo, you told him Bruce was your boyfriend?”
“Yup. And that still wasn’t enough to stop his advances. If only I had a real boyfriend, then maybe what’s-his-face would actually back the fuck off.”
Bella chokes on her eggplant parm as my words sink in. “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? Did Cassandra Marie Martinez, the eternal bachelorette who’s patented the ban on love just say she wanted a boyfriend?”
“Yes, Bella. You can lower your brows now.” I roll my eyes as I shake my head. “They’re going to permanently affix themselves to your hairline if you don’t drop that look of surprise.”
Bella snickers. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease, it’s just I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth… It’s the dawn of a new era, I guess.”
A new era indeed.
