I stare after him. What’s with him today?
“It’s just you and me, kid.” I scratch Beans’ belly as he stretches out in my lap. He’s still a puppy at 5 month’s old. His mouth is curved into an elated smile. The glass door to our modest office, established in the center of a rundown shopping plaza closes, and I watch as Eddie and Darin hop in my brother’s rusting tin can of a truck.
We could afford a better neighborhood but Eddie says the rent here is too cheap to move.
Once I’m sure the dickweed duo has gone for good, I load Beans into his carrier and strap him in the backseat of my Chevy Malibu.
If I’m stuck staying at Darin’s all week I am taking advantage and ditching the office early. I’ll have all calls forwarded to my cell phone. Eddie and Darin won’t know whether I am indeed at my desk or not, seeing how they will be in Seattle for the week, a perfect three thousand miles from Lebanon.
I drop by my house, well my childhood home. It belongs to Eddie and me, but I live here alone. Eddie prefers to reside with Claire. I prefer that he does too. It only took one night of hearing them fuck like rabbits for me to put my foot down.
I prefer the quiet of the country. Deep down I think my brother does too, but Claire loves her fancy smancy apartment in downtown Nashville. Beans is pawing around in the kitchen while I pack a bag. There’s no way I’m traveling back and forth all week, carting a pup around. Beans has serious separation anxiety issues and I’m looking forward to a quiet week without the stress work can bring. If it weren’t for me staying on top of the zoning requirements and permits for every project, DreamSky would never get any builds done. Besides there is a fabulous pool for me to lay out at Darin’s place.
The commute from Lebanon to Hermitage takes me around thirty-five minutes. Most of the traffic is driving away from the airport not towards it, thankfully. I should be getting ready to hit the gym with Darin but he’s away, so tonight will be a cheat night. I have been dying for a steak and cheese sub from Sal’s.
I arrange my order online from my cell phone after parking in Darin’s garage and letting Beans out to do his business. I end up ordering an anti-pasta salad and fries too. Whatever I don’t eat tonight can be lunch tomorrow.
Inside, I start making myself at home. Beans is refusing to go back in his carrier, he wants held. Little punk. I eventually get him engaged with one of his toys and toss it down the narrow hallway for him to fetch.
Darin has a single apartment. It’s tiny but nice. He has top of the line appliances and all hardwood flooring. The décor is basic and manly. A single piece of driftwood and a black and white print of him and Beans sits on the fireplace mantle.
I toss my bag onto the armchair by his closet and wonder if his sheets are clean. Darin is a bit of a manwhore. I should have brought
my own bedding or just kept Beans at my place, but I am looking forward to working from the poolside and working on my tan. Stripping the sheets off I thrust them in the washer. The laundry is in the bathroom and I keep knocking my backside against the wall. This place is just too cramped for a girl my size. By the time I get the bedding going I have just enough time to change into my vegging out clothes before my meal is delivered.
Fifteen minutes later there’s a powerful knock at the door. Yes! My food is here.
As soon as I open the door for the guy Beans darts out into the hall.
“Beans!” I cry as he makes his way three doors down and scratches. I seize my food, slinging it on the kitchen counter. I already paid when I ordered. The pimple faced delivery boy laughs at me as I run down the hall. I could swear I overhear him making a crack about an earthquake.
Ignoring his cackles, I squat down to pluck up Beans and pray my yoga pants don’t split up the crack of my ass. Just as I’m scooping Beans into my arms the door to 7C opens. “Who the hell are you?” Some leggy brunette screeches, gawking at me. She moves to grab Beans from me and gives me an evil look like I am trying to steal him or something.
“Sorry, Beans didn’t mean to bother you. Did ya, boy?” I pet the back of his neck and he grins knowing he has been naughty.
“Don’t tell me Darin is fucking a fat ass like you now.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and laughs.
There are a lot of comebacks I could throw at her but all I want to do is cry. I know I’m not Darin’s type. Clearly this twat has been in his bed. I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight. It shouldn’t bother me that he slept with her. Darin has slept with plenty of women. The man is far from mine. He is my boss and my friend. I’ll never be the object of his affection. Not sexually anyway.
I square my shoulders and smile. “Funny, I was just about to say that I am shocked that Darin would lay with a skinny bitch like you. I bet if you turn sideways you disappear.” I know stooping to her level is beneath me. It’s more about the fact I’m jealous she has been with D. “By the way, I’m Eddie’s sister, you know, Darin’s best friend.”
The whore from 7C grimaces and slams the door. The delivery boy is still watching the show. He is looking at me expectantly. He’s wanting his tip. “Oh, my bad, you must want your tip. Well here’s one for ya. Be careful of earthquakes. You never know when one will strike!” I slam the door in his face and tell Beans how naughty he has been.
“Traitor,” I mumble as I give him one of my fries.
My sulking and overeating is interrupted with a new text from Pineappleman. He’s this guy I’ve been talking with. I met him on one of those crappy online dating services. My Christmas present from my Aunt Irene, my mother’s sister. She is dead set on finding me a husband. She’s old fashioned in some ways. Says it isn’t proper for me to be living in a big house on my own with no man to look after me. She considers me an old maid at twenty-five. Eddie and I rarely hear from her, she travels a lot.
I grin.
Pineappleman: I’ve missed your sense of humor today.
Curves: I see how it is…you only like me for my wit.
Pineappleman: I could appreciate the rest of you, but you don’t want to meet.
Ugh there it is…my fear creeping up on me. Pineappleman is different. He likes the real me, not the sister or the funny fat friend. We’ve exchanged a few pictures, none that really show the full body shot. He wouldn’t recognize me if he passed me on the street, but what would he really think of me in person? I’m good at taking photos that don’t show my true size.
I look to Beans like he can advise me. He’s in his doggy bed snoring.