Rich Man

It would be a simple act of denial to say that I didn’t regret my little slip of “weakness” in the face of Patrice. I also think that it would be stupid to further explain how terrified I was that he was so capable of getting under my skin. There was no explanation vulgar enough in the world to describe how annoyed I was with myself, closing my door and silently sitting on the floor of my bedroom. Hands pressed hard against my face, I dragged them downward and just breathed.

Time to write.

It’s not like I intended on not getting any sleep. I mean, I guess by ditching the world of unconsciousness to do more analysis, notes and planning I wasn’t exactly planning on sleep. Any way it’s spun, I end up with less than twenty minutes of shut-eye and that was only because at one point I fell asleep while jotting some details down.

By the time the crack of dawn began showing through my closed curtains, my eyes were redder than a ripe tomato and my hair looked like a series of small tornados had passed through just to say hi. My record had been broken by an extra two pages and my wrist hurt like a bitch. A shallow pang of guilt hit me as I scribbled down another sentence, which spawned another few dozen.

I think I’m feeling guilty. Lucic seems to be the source as well as Bergeron. Natural reaction to using them, but not logically inclined. Done it before, what makes this time any different?

ML: He’s a different kind of person in that offensive shield he uses around his friends/women. He wants them to look upon him in a redeeming, equal light, not necessarily impressing. He’s a classic “mask” case. (Appears tough, actually soft.) I could feel pity on for hurting the more honest, quietness of his person.

Goal: Force him to find equilibrium within himself. If he stops the womanizing, tough-guy charade, his friends will like him more. Easy as that. He’ll be happier as well. Win-win.

PB: The ego in him is dwindling. His view of me as competition is no longer as alive and hostile as it used to be. He’s attracted to me, yes, but why I’m not sure of. It’s odd that after picking at me he would come to terms with my egotistical façade so quickly. And his connection with Milan is flocculating between the personally positive and negative so rapidly that predicting how he’ll treat his friend after last night’s run-in is implausible at best.

Goal: Find out which of the three routes he’s taking. Will he attempt to push me toward Lucic for his friend’s emotional benefit, attempt to pursue me himself, or will he test us to see how we behave in the wake of his actions last night? Granted, he either tells Lucic what’s happened or not. That’s unlikely. He didn’t say a thing about the kiss. He has no reason to start unless he has a plan of his own that coincides with one of the three possible routes of his behavior, as previously stated…

& Get more sleep.

-

Waking up in the middle of the afternoon to a sticky note on my forehead, I groaned quietly. It was nothing more than a simple notice that explained the group’s whereabouts for the day. While Lex is going out of town for a business thing, the boys are at some event thing for the team no-doubt, and Avery would maybe be around. Oh, and food was supposedly in the fridge.

This bought me some reflecting time that I hadn’t really set out for myself as of late. I just laid in bed, staring at the dull ceiling, and summarized the situation from step one until now.

So I get here. Okay, then I establish who I am and who I’m going to be. Two-point-five grand a week says I get Blake to make up his damn mind about his secret girlfriend, Tera. According to Lex, Tera’s not part of the group anymore because she got into it with someone here over… Something I don’t even know yet. So really, she’s my biggest fill-in-the-blank.

Now, I’ve got Milan on my hands… He’s your classic boy wearing a man’s mask… Fuck, he’s terrified of getting hurt and its almost unbearable for me to sit here and watch him feel excluded… Then there’s his glorious relationship with Bergeron, Mr. Ridiculous, who needs to learn not to be in the same room as me for my sake…

I need to make this group stronger. It’s just like I told Lex. I need to start from the outer layers of the group and work inward toward my main goal. Lex wants me to make Blake come clean about his weird little affair with Tera or break it off and we both know he’s not going to do that… If it does come out, according to Lex, Blake could potentially cause a break up within the group big enough to screw everybody over. Now I don’t know what Tera did to screw up that bad, but just in case Blake does something retarded and yelps his little secret, I need everybody as tight as they’re ever going to be. The closer these friends are, the better off they are for life anyway.

Wow, this sounds so cheesy.

I spent a little while longer attempting to cover all that this Tera chick could have done when a possibly correct thought dawned on me. Maybe this is another one of these guys’ weird love triangle things. They all have a knack at attracting the same sleazy girls… I wonder if Tera was another manipulative skank who pushed it farther than anyone else did… It seems like the only thing that really screws these guys over are chicks and failing at love anyway… What if she made her rounds around the locker room and none of the guys found out they all banged the same twig until it was too late? There’s a great group-hate opportunity. It just doesn’t explain how Tera and Lex are still friends… This is ridiculous. Christ.

Trust me; I would have sat there for the rest of the day and beat my brain against the desk until something smart came out, but the oncoming headache screamed cabin fever. Naturally I took it as a hint to take an aspirin, eat something and maybe explore the city for myself. You know, for the sake of fresh air and some inspiration.

It was two by the time my headache was gone, I was legitimately dressed, and I had my taxes and such squared away. Purse at hand, I locked up and slipped out of the apartment and into my car. As expected, there was minor traffic. My stomach was more impatient than I was and so I stopped at a small café for lunch and something warm to drink.

People watching had always been a hobby of mine. I enjoyed stretching my legs and studying people as they relaxed and casually melted into their true selves around others or played up a charade only obvious to myself and a select few others with a mind or the same like. I bit into my sandwich and studied the eyes of a man a few tables down from me. My eyes jumped from his to the next male’s eyes a short way down. They had both been stabbing at the same direction, predatorily eyeing a woman currently walking across the street, toward the café.

I smirked, rolling my eyes mentally.

What she lacked in height was made up for in forgiving curves and full lips. Her eyes were lined in black, lips coated in a very thin layer of clear gloss. To be honest, her beauty was something of an anomaly that could make even the most elite of models green with envy. It was no surprise that these surrounding men could do nothing more than stare dumbly as she sauntered passed. However, what they blatantly missed was the shy, uncomfortable glimmer in her large blood shot eyes.

Maybe no more than an hour ago, she had been reduced to tears. This wasn’t to say that she looked the part. Oh, no, she was very well put together and it was nearly impossible to tell, but then again… It was not difficult for me to pick apart that hollow half smile from that of a genuine one. And it is true that I did feel pity for her for a moment, but it was nothing that I could legitimately change without intruding upon her private issues. That was the last thing I needed on my mind. Especially because I knew that hurt look in her eyes as she toyed with the engagement ring on her thin finger.

And that’s when it resurfaced, freezing me solid in my thoughts.

”I-I can’t do this,” I murmured through a fleeting breath, feeling my back make contact with my bedroom door.

“And why not?” that silky smooth voice relayed back to me, a half smile playing at his full, lush lips as he began closing the space between us.

And as much as I hated it, as much as I hated myself for it, I was bound now by more than just one piece of paper and a paycheck the size of my condo. Somehow, none of that mattered anymore. I had gotten way on over my head. I forgot my personal rules. I threw away my integrity. I let my heart do the thinking for me. And because of my negligence and stupidity, I was in a world of emotional hurt no matter how I spun the situation.

Then there was her face in the back of my mind; those deep, heart-broken eyes filled to the brim and spilling over with more tears than she should ever have to let fall. And yet there I was, with the boy she had been so close with for years, in charge of making him see that they were perfect for each other…

And now I was second guessing myself, second guessing the feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I told myself that he was just a tool of my trade, second guessing myself every time he whispered my name in attempt to coax a reaction out of me, second guessing myself as his body began grinding against mine with what I wished wasn’t want… Because I wanted it too. Yet I knew that he and I were the farthest from each other. And I knew that Dana deserved him, that he deserved her, and that I was nothing more than the third party. And by doing what he wanted, what I wanted, now… I would throw away the last months of what I was working towards.

And I could feel my stomach twist and my heart break with every forthcoming breath.

“Because she loves you… And you-“

He pulled away now to stare me straight in the scared, uncharacteristically broken eyes. “What?”

“I almost can’t believe she loves you.”

I snapped out of my trance due to the ringing of my cell. “Hello?”

“Hey, where’d you go? I was going to go back to Blakey’s early and surprise you, but you’re not answering the dang door,” whined Milan. He seemed… Out of breath.

“I just got a bite to eat. I’m at Dudley’s down town. Was about to go get some shopping done, but I could use some company. Wanna meet somewhere?” The words just seemed to fall out of my mouth. I didn’t even think while I spoke. Dammit, get a hold of yourself. Just… Relax and breathe. Forget about it, okay?

There was minor hesitation due to thought on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, sure. I know you just ate, but can we meet for coffee? I could use a cup right about now.”

“Sounds good. Meet me at the Starbucks on Cambridge. I’m right around there.”

“Perfect.”

-

“Table in the back. Nice baseball cap, too. You totally don’t look like you’re trying to hide your identity or anything,” I pointd out with an expression of all seriousness.

He shot me an unappreciative glare, making sure I would sit with my back to the corner, facing the whole room, so he would be able to turn his back to it. “Please don’t make this more difficult for me,” he pleaded with an almost humorously commanding tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” I subconsciously toyed with the pendant dangling from my neck, sipping my latte. “So what makes you special enough to come home early?”

Scoffing, he replied, “I did my rounds earlier before everyone else. Hospital visit so the kids don’t care really how long you stay so long as you’re there and you’re happy. Plus I brought toys so, y’know…”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I never pit you for the sweet child-loving type.”

Chuckling, he replied, “You’re part right. I don’t like most of the little snot-nosed punks that freak out over getting my autograph, but these kids are something else. They’re bed ridden, sometimes with a terminal illness, and they’re still beaming and happy. It’s amazing, really.”

How sweet…

“What’ve you been doing all day?”

“Just… Relaxing,” I answered, breaking my eyes away from his. I was staring, after all.

His expression seemed to fall. My mind was wandering as well. We exchanged brief glances, triggering thought in the two of us. At the exact same time, we both out and said two things that just about killed either of us.

“What ever happened to Kelsey?”

“Is there something between you and Patrice?”

His eyes widened significantly and we swallowed hard in unison. Only, he seemed to have the guts to answer first. “I don’t know… Last I heard, she’s engaged to some business big shot. I don’t know anything besides that… Why?”

“Oh,” I whispered, nodding. “I was just… Well I don’t know. Just curious, I guess…” Taking a sip of my drink, I quickly pulled together an answer to his question. However, it didn’t quite suffice my craving for a decent answer. I could only stare at the table, suddenly feeling extremely guilty and put on the spot, probably like he just had, and answered, “To be honest, I don’t really know.”

“Has anything… Happened?”

That sounds like hurt to me. Does he know or does he just want a straight answer? Does he want both? What is he asking for? Pull yourself together. However, no matter how hard I tried to keep my thoughts in line, to monitor my verbal filter, my answer refused to change itself. Staring at this boy now, I was overwhelmed with an unknown guilt that I assumed coincided with my harsh memories. It just sort of… Came out.

“I think… I think maybe he’s attracted to me… Why?”

In his haste, he simply mimicked me. “Oh,” he whispered with a shallow nod. “I was just, I don’t know, curious, I guess…”