“I like your hair,” I say.
She’s had it cut. Cammy is from Guyana and her typically long black hair is usually tied in a ponytail. It’s now shoulder length with all sorts of flippy layers.
“I like it a lot,” I add.
“Thanks,” she says flipping it dramatically. “I do, too. It cost me a fortune and I might’ve given myself a disease with the product they used, but it feels great. Anyway, it’s been too long since I’ve heard laughter or seen smiles from you.” She points at me.
I shrug. “Yeah. Life’s like that sometimes.”
“Debs texted me. Says you showed up with a hottie she knows. A rich, powerful, dangerous hottie. You gonna spill some beans?”
That didn’t take long.
It took less than five minutes, in fact.
“Nope,” I say with confidence I haven’t felt in a long time. “Not yet.”
Her eyes go round.
“He just gave me a ride,” I add, feeling some of the wind come out of my sails because what am I doing, acting like there might be something? There’s not.
“He did, did he?” She wiggles her eyebrows dramatically.
I shake my head. “Potty brain.”
“Is it gonna be something spill-worthy?”
I shrug. “Not likely.”
“Okay, okay. I’m watching, though. I wanna see more of these smiles on your face, lady. Hear more laughing. I really do.”
Me, too.
“Been worried about you,” she says with a straight, serious face.
I do my best to not show any expression but inside I feel like I’m about to cry.
I would call us coworkers rather than friends, but we’ve worked side-by-side for four years. She knew me before Ray. Since that’s the case, she obviously knows how I used to be.
I can barely recall how I used to be.
If she’s paid attention, and it seems like she has, she’s watched me wither like a dying flower.
“You wanna come to lunch with me ‘n Debs today?” Cammy asks.
I ponder it a minute.
She looks hopeful.
“Actually, sure.”
I know they want the dirt on Killian, but I don’t have to give it to them. Not that I have any dirt…not really. Going out for lunch with coworkers is something I haven’t done in a long time. Not only because I never wanted to (or couldn’t) spend any money, also because I was just in that… funk. Wanting to just coast under the radar with everyone.
Debbie isn’t a coworker, but she’s in the building and part of a larger clutch of girls that go out together often. She and Cammy do lunch daily and a bunch of them tend to go out on payday week Fridays together after work. Maybe part of getting myself back will be making some friends again.
Though, really, having Susanna in my life again – that’s more than enough after such a long time of having nobody.
I’m feeling light on my feet suddenly. I dig into my day feeling confident that for two weeks, Ray won’t bother me. It’ll be like a Ray detox. And I already feel like I thrived after just one week without him while he was in Atlantic City.
Another two weeks? Bliss. Who knows what’ll happen after that, though?
But, maybe, with the detox, whatever happens, I’ll be more readily able to get through it.
For now, I feel like living. I feel like not only do I want it, but I also need it. Living just a little.
***
Lunch with Cammy and Debbie starts off fun. They call one another Cams and Debs and they have me laughing as we walk across the street to a food court in the bottom of an office building together. They’ve claimed me, one on either side of me, linking arms with me. Immediately after we sit down with our food trays, they launch into efforts to pick my brain.
“Soooo, spill. How do you know Killian?” Cammy asks.
Debbie’s eyes are on me as she pulls the clear plastic sleeve off her black plastic fork.
“He’s friends with Ray. He gave me a ride.” I shrug and take a bite of my salad.
“He’s rich,” Debbie says and then she leans forward, her long, sleek raven ponytail over one shoulder and nearly landing in her salad dressing. She flicks it back. “And dangerous. He’s connected. Like my ex was.”
“The ex,” Cammy says like I should know who this person is.
My eyes bounce between them.
Debbie shrugs. “My fuckup. I had all those oats to sow and gave up the catch of the century.” She drops her fork with disgust written all over her face. “Wish I’d met him a couple years ago instead of when I was a teenager. I wouldn’t have fucked that up.”
Cammy shakes her head with sadness. “You live and learn, Debs. We all do.”
Debbie stares off into space. “He was gorgeous. Great in bed. Rich. And a fixer. Any bullshit that came my way, he’d erase it for me.”
“What happened?” I ask softly.