The thing with William, though, was that he could show up in a suit and tie and own the room, but he could also show up in a poor man’s suit, like now, and light a girl’s underwear on fire. The man was God-damned gorgeous and I was hard pressed to keep my jaw from dropping.
He walked toward me with a confident saunter and a smirk, his broad shoulders swaying as he closed the gap.
“Hi beautiful.” He slipped his arms around my middle.
“H—hi.” I gulped then smiled. He smelt so good.
“Cat got your tongue?” He leaned forward and connected with my lips lightly, feeling the electricity pass between us. Then he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into my opened mouth, until I was panting and clutching on to him. He backed off then, slowly, letting the kiss linger, until he separated and said, “Down girl.”
“Not fair.”
He smiled down at me. “What’s not fair?”
“I’m not sure, but it fit.”
“You two done or what?” Adam called from inside the kitchen. “That shit’s gross. Can I go?”
“Language, Adam,” I said, slipping my hand into William’s.
“I’m not apologizin’,” came the disembodied voice. “You’ve said worse.”
William chuckled. “Don’t blame you. And yes, you can go. Thanks.”
We walked out to my car—well, technically Adam’s car, but I was driving it—and I thought it would be funny to open William's door for him, being that I was taking him to dinner and all. He was fine with me shadowing his steps, until he remembered I was driving.
“Do you want me to drive?” he asked in confusion, stopping. Adam stopped on the way to his truck, wondering if there was a problem.
“Nope,” I said, waiting patiently.
William looked behind him, unclear why I was still back there, then half turned, waiting for me to figure out what I was doing. He wasn’t in the habit of letting a woman trail around behind him. Much like a prisoner in a shower, the thought made him skittish.
“I plan on opening your door for you, sir.”
William turned to look at me fully, mock anger doing a poor job of erasing the smile. Adam started laughing.
Adam said, “Thank God you got her Willie—she’d drive me to drink!”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Adam?” I yelled.
“Nope. I wanna see the end of this dog and pony show.”
“Jessica,” William said patiently, ignoring Adam, “you are taking this a bit far. You wanted to drive, which is fine. You want to take me to some backwoods BBQ joint in the middle of the ghetto, against my better judgment, I consented. But there is no way, no way at all, that I will let you open my door for me like I was a chick.”
“I’m being polite.”
“I understand that sweetie, and I appreciate the gesture, but no. Just… no.”
I pouted a little—not because I wanted to open the door that badly, but I wanted to get my way. Sue me. A girl likes to have the run of the mill sometimes.
William’s eyes caught my lips and a pained expression crossed his face, still not dislodging the smile. “Not fair, Jessica.”
He loved and hated that pout. He loved it because it was cute and I put a lot of hip and boob into it. He hated it because he could never resist when I used it, or how happy it made me when he relented.
“What’s she doin’?” Adam called over, still leaning against his truck, nowhere at all to be.
“She’s doing that pouty face.”
“The one with the heart shaped lips?”
“Yeah. She’s even batting her eyes. How the hell can I say no to that?”
“Can’t. You’re whipped. Accept it and let her open the door for you. Pansy!”
“Least he’s getting laid regularly,” I said to Adam.
“True enough,” Adam acceded, climbing into his truck. “Y’all have fun. Call if anything happens.”
In resignation and a smile, William closed the distance to his door and waited patiently for me to open it. I did so with a flourish and got a pat on the butt as he got in.
“Cad,” I said, walking away.
“What—you aren’t going to close the door for me, too?”
“I’m not your manservant. Polite only goes so far.”
Chapter Nine
The next couple weeks passed quickly. William and I were with each other every chance we got. I knew his friends must have been irritated, but they never showed it.
Adam hung out with us more often than not, and he became like a big brother to me. Fred, the Doberman, was also with us every second. His dog bed moved from house to house, and as long as it was there, Fred rested easy. It was the one time we forgot it that no one got any sleep.
William apparently hated whining. In people, in dogs, in kids, it didn’t matter. His dogs, as a result, were scolded if they whined. The night I was at William’s and forgot Fred’s bed at my house, the dog wouldn’t settle down. He didn’t know where to be. He jumped up on the bed and tried to sleep at our feet. He was a bad dog for this because he wasn’t supposed to get on the furniture—so William said. After being kicked off he went to sleep on the couch. He was a bad dog for that also—William yelled from the bed. We heard him getting down and padding back in with us. He didn’t whine, but he moaned and grunted like a banshee. It was intolerable.
Finally, I just went to get his damn bed. My interview for the new position was the next day, and I needed sleep. William wouldn’t let me go alone so we moved the whole operation to my house. The second Fred was in the door, he ran to his bed, sniffed it, turned around a couple times, and settled in. He slept like a log of the rest of the night. I never forgot that damn bed again!
Gladis was having her party in the next couple weeks and was constantly asking my opinion on things. Did we need an ice sculpture? How much food did we need? Should we have three bartenders or two? Should it be outside and inside, or just outside, or just inside? Everything was ‘we’ as if I was hosting the party as well. I gave my opinion like a rock-star, but let’s face it, I was out of my league. I could throw one helluva party, yes, but those kinds of parties didn’t have a place for an ice sculpture, unless it was in the bathtub, keeping the keg cold.
My life on paper was perfect. Awesome guy, awesome job prospects, awesome living situation—I was so far over my expectations of Texas it was unreal.
But there was one, giant, glaring problem: I didn’t have my girls.
I missed Flem’s sarcasm, Lump’s easy going attitude, Claire’s fun comments, and Jane’s sweetness. I also found myself missing Ami. I didn’t know her as well as I could, but I felt like I understood her tenfold after hanging out with people that had means.
Apparently, calling such people rich wasn’t classy. They should be described as people with ‘means’.
I’d told William, “Whatever. It means the same thing.” Ha! I was too clever by half.
He didn’t share the sentiment.
I called the girls often, and emailed more than that, but they weren’t around as much lately. I got message machine after message machine, and no calls back. It felt like they were slipping away. That the distance was starting to come between us, as if we were long-term lovers. It made me more than a little panicked.
Candace was very much in my life, and was becoming a good friend, but she didn’t have the history the others did. Also, she was too nice. She always loved my outfits, always thought I was the prettiest person in the world, and always told me how smart I was. As far as “yes men” went, she was right on. For a girlfriend, it would’ve been nice if she’d had an opinion or two.
It was Friday night. Just one Friday night among millions. Another night out with William, Candace, and all the boys. I’d become moody, I could tell I was getting listless, and, embarrassingly, I would randomly cry when I got too drunk, but I couldn’t help it. I was lost. It was like a three legged table with a broom stick stand-in as a fourth leg; not the most stable of surfaces.
We were in my bedroom getting ready, and I was in the middle of trying to get out of going. I wanted to spend the evening on the computer, working out a trip to L.A.
“William, why don’t you just take a boy’s night tonight?” I asked as I picked my thumb nail. For some reason, through all my moodiness, William never got pissed. He was constantly supportive and overwhelmingly understanding. It was weird. Good—of course it was good, but weird. I would’ve bitched slapped me by now.
“I’ve had my whole life for boys’ nights. Now I have you. I want boys’ and girls’ nights for a while. Until I get tired of you.”
It was a joke. I didn’t find it funny because I was a moody bitch.
It’s sad when you can admit it, but not find a way to change it. It was like PMS; awful and enviable but no way to steer clear.
“I know, babe, but maybe the guys are tired of me hanging around.”
“They love you, Jess. They all do. I haven’t heard a bad word.”
“William, come on, be honest with yourself. They’re not going to tell you they hate me. They’ll say they love me to your face then talk shit amongst themselves. Maybe you should go solo. I need alone time.”
“Sweetie,” William came over and sat with me on the bed, “the last thing you need is alone time. Come on. We’ll go out, have a drink or two, hang out with friends, and have a good time. You’ll have fun. Promise.”
I moaned because when he was logical, there was no point in arguing.
I did go out. I did have a decent time, but when Candace wouldn’t stop going on about how cute my boots were, I had to get out of there. She didn’t comment once on the scuff marks.
“William, I’m going to head out.” I had pushed past Ty, possibly elbowed Moose, and interrupted Adam to relay this message.
“Why so soon Jessie-girl?” Adam asked as he leaned against the bar.
“Just… I need to go. I miss Fred.”
William looked at me with understanding. “Okay, can you wait until I finish my beer?”
I almost told him he didn’t understand a damn thing. He had his friends handy all the time. He had no idea why I was acting so crazy. He should be mad, for Gods sakes! Normal people were angry at sporadic, unexplained behavior!
Instead I said, “You can stay. I’ll go on my own. It’s fine.”
William and Adam passed a knowing look. Being that men thought they were incredibly sneaky and clever, they thought that look would go unnoticed.
They were wrong.
“You guys have no idea why I am a tard, okay? I just am. And I don’t want company. I want to go home. To my dog. Well, William’s dog. On my own. No penises allowed. Okay?”
“Obviously I am going with you, Jessica. Be reasonable,” William said, taking a chug of his beer.
“You and your reasonable,” I muttered.
Then I tried to do as he said. Elbowing depression out of the way, I said, “This isn’t one of those times when I am saying I want to do one thing, but really setting a trap. I actually, seriously am totally okay with you staying and hanging out with your friends. Genuinely.”
“That was a lotta Californian.” Adam laughed, leaning harder against the bar.
He’d just kicked the broom stick. “You want to stay, William,” I said tersely, “And you should. These are your friends. Stay. Drink. Flirt. Whatever. I don’t care. I just want to go.”
“I’d like to think I’m yer friend, too, Jess,” Adam said. Now he was poking the bear. When I looked at him with crazy eyes, he smiled.
“Let’s go,” William said before I could retaliate, empty bottle on the bar. “We’ll meet up with everyone next week.”
I sighed. Loudly.
Next week at the same, or a similar, bar, with the same, or similar, people. All men and Candace. And I loved Candace. I really did. But she was all for Ty. She barely left his side all night, and when she did, it was to use the restroom. She was super great, but not enough. And I didn’t know where to find girls that could replace what I lost. If that were possible.
Next Friday rolled around. Same work week, which I liked. Same time with William, which I liked. Same prospect of happy hour with Williams friends…which I was putting off for as long as possible.
Gladis’s party was approaching rapidly. It would take place on Sunday. This Sunday! Eck! I had taken the two days following off work at William’s begging. He said he had a surprise for me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I decided, in a need for something different, to have some new threads just in case.
I was out shopping, trying to make a decision on a blue dress versus a red dress, with no one to tell me if I looked good or crappy, when I got a text from Gladis telling me to get home immediately.
She didn’t know how to text herself, but often had Lady do it to communicate quickly. Scratch that—to communicate with me quickly. She didn’t understand why I didn’t answer the phone. I tried to explain that answering the phone in public was dicey because so often it was rude, but she still didn’t get it. It was a phone. Answer it.
Her tune changed when she had Lady text and got a response within ten minutes.
I congratulated her on learning how to be young again. She threw a pillow at me.
As I walked into my cottage, I had a moment of confusion. It was sparkling. I was tidy, but this was insane. Gladis had finally stopped asking if the cleaning lady could come through and just made it happen.
I couldn’t say it wasn’t welcomed—the place looked freaking great! If I didn’t hate sweeping and moping so much, I would make more of an effort.