Girl Crush(51)

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. But it doesn’t appear there’s much to figure out. He’s straight, I’m a woman, even if he thinks I’m a coochie cuddler, and he didn’t engage when I kissed him. Aren’t lesbians fantasies for all men? I managed to fuck up a wet dream.” Nothing was going to be resolved sitting on my couch with Ronnie, so I opted for the next best thing—girl time.

Ronnie stayed with me the rest of the day. We binged on ice cream and Chinese food later that night and watched romantic comedies. I didn’t know how she had gotten free from Trish, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had my best friend for a day, and somehow, that made all of this more bearable—even if I wasn’t any closer to a solution.





11





When I didn’t hear from Collier the following day, I assumed I’d completely screwed everything up. My inability to keep my hands to myself and my lips away from his had cost me more than I wanted to consider. Over the last few months, West had become my friend. We talked about anything and everything because everything was safe when there was no possibility for anything that wasn’t platonic. Now, because of a lapse in judgment on a dance floor with too much alcohol in my blood stream, I may have lost that. But my embarrassment was so great that I hadn’t had the courage to reach out to him Saturday and used Ronnie being here as my excuse not to.

The longer I went without talking to him or texting him, the greater my anxiety became. I needed to be the one to reach out, apologize. But I hadn’t had the courage to do it because I was humiliated. And when he contacted me on Sunday, I was frozen with fear and unable to respond.

Collier: You ever going to talk to me again? What happened Friday? I’m lost.

I tapped my nails on the screen, trying to formulate a quick and witty response, but nothing came to mind. And then the longer it sat there unanswered, the more clever my response needed to be. I didn’t want to lose him altogether and knew if I didn’t tread lightly, I risked that.

Me: Of course, silly. Too much alcohol. Sorry.

It wasn’t cute or even honest, but I just wanted to forget it in hopes of salvaging something between us.

Collier: So that’s how you’re going to play this?

Me: I don’t know what you mean?

Collier: You just want to pretend like nothing happened?

Me: It wasn’t a big deal. Momentary lapse of judgment.

Collier: Fine. Then come over this afternoon and hang out by the pool. The guys are coming, and I’ll even let you kick me in the face while we play volleyball.

My nose continued to grow with each text I sent.

Me: Can’t today. I’ve got plans.

Lie. I didn’t have a damn thing to do other than paint my nails and watch them dry.

Collier: Okay. We’ll get together this week then.

Me: Sure thing.

Sure thing. Who the hell says “sure thing”? I tossed my phone onto the couch beside me and reached for my latest nail color. “Got Myself into a Jam-balaya” seemed appropriate to start the week.

Monday, while watching dust gather in the law offices of Stearns and Wilkes, I decided I needed a pick-me-up. Fresh nail polish hadn’t done the trick yesterday, but maybe a new purse would today. The thought of shopping after work gave me something to look forward to, and I started my quest online to pass the time between clients coming in. At four o’clock, I found the perfect Coach bag and called Macy’s to see if they had it in stock. I bounced in my seat in animation when the clerk on the other end of the phone assured me they did and set one aside for me to pick up in an hour. Retail therapy would do me good.

I saved shopping for the really bad times in my life. I lived comfortably, but I couldn’t afford to spend hundreds of dollars regularly on just anything that piqued my interest. So I reserved these trips for the truly necessary times when the only other thing that would do would be seeing a shrink—not going to happen. Plus, this left me with something to show for my hard-earned money…well, maybe not hard-earned, but I’d endured some pretty boring days to get a paycheck.

At five o’clock on the dot, I called over my shoulder to let my boss know I was leaving. It was a rare day that he had actually been in the office, and lucky me, he’d be here all week except Friday. I didn’t usually like it when he was there, but it was nice not to feel so alone today. I’d brushed Ronnie off when she sent me a text to check on me, and I was afraid to reach out to Beck. I needed my friends, but I wasn’t interested in their opinions about West—so shopping it was.

When I arrived in the accessories department, it hadn’t taken me long to find a clerk. The store was practically deserted. She ran off to the back to get one that hadn’t been groped by greasy-handed window shoppers. The girl returned quickly and rang up the purchase. After I had paid her, I continued around the store admiring the jewelry and cute clothes. I wasn’t going to purchase anything else, but sometimes just the feel of the pretty fabrics and the smell of the shoe department comforted me. I didn’t need to buy anything else for my trip to be cathartic. I had time to kill, and there was no better way to do it than perusing the racks.

Just outside the makeup counter, a perfume girl stopped me to try her latest fragrance. I had nothing better to do, so I indulged her, and somehow, struck up a conversation about the astronomical cost of fragrance, and regardless of how pretty the Viktor&Rolf Flowerbomb bottle was, fifty-five dollars seemed excessive just to smell good.