Then a tremor ran through me as I remembered what I was saying to Eric in the sho
wer. Good grief. That was so hot. The feeling of those words leaving my mouth, knowing how much he craved them… I shuddered from head to toe just thinking about it.
Nana said that a lady doesn’t curse. Even if you’re poor as dirt, up to your elbows in wash water, a woman should still behave like a lady. My Mom once said that Nana wouldn’t say ‘crap’ if her mouth were full of it.
Trying to put Nana’s warning out of my mind, I thought maybe I should take just a moment to be logical. If I didn't have a grandmother who randomly said semi prophetic things, would I go out with this guy again?
Absolutely. No question.
I opened my laptop and searched for Erlik Stone. There weren’t any. I searched for Eric Stone. There were dozens until I added the word “construction”. Then there was only one in Toronto.
"Sweet fancy dancers,” I muttered.
It turns out that my accidental pick up wasn't just some guy.
Eric had said that he and his sister ran Two Stones – a corporation that oversaw building projects. More specifically, they made incredible office towers all across North America. He really was the head of the company. I didn't think he was lying, but people often exaggerate. If anything, he seriously downplayed his position.
I could tell by his condo and that building that he was obviously wealthy, but this was a bit much to take in. My brain just couldn't absorb it.
I'd never cared much about money, as long as I had enough to take care of myself. It was the power that came with extreme wealth that was a bit strange for me to consider. I searched again until I found a photo attached to the name and title. Yes, that was definitely him.
Slumping onto my bed, I tried not to cry. Staring out the window, it only took about twenty seconds for me to fail spectacularly. Fat tears dripped down my face as I thought about all of the lies and manipulation from my ex, Andy.
In the beginning, I was a bit surprised that he seemed so eager to date me. A month later, I had thought that we really clicked. He was my first real boyfriend in every possible way.
Sure, I didn't like the way he talked down to me, or the way I seemed to be number seven or eight on his list of priority people. But he was usually there for important things.
Then when my Mom was in the hospital, and I needed him most, I found out the truth. He had been dating me because he was trying to get promoted at work. He thought that since the company was so vocal about their family values that he should have a steady girlfriend to show how wholesome he was.
Using someone to further their career was something that happened in cheesy soap operas. But I overheard him talking to his friend about it.
Andy had gone to get us some coffee while we were in the waiting room of the hospital after my Mom’s hip replacement surgery. After a while, I came to look for him, and overheard him on the phone with his dudebro, Chad.
He was going on about how he found a much hotter girl who would be a better fake girlfriend, and then fiancé. He went on to describe their existing sugar baby arrangement that would suit him much better, rather than having to deal with my apparent neediness. But he would wait a day or two to break up with me, since I seemed so worried about my Mom.
The way he had described me made me feel more pathetic, lost, and alone than I ever had in my life. Not exactly what I needed when my Mom was being wheeled into recovery.
I never understood the concept of a broken heart before that day. I thought it was a poetic turn of phrase. Something abstract.
When I discovered the man I thought I'd loved had been using me, and was about to throw me away like trash, my heart didn't break, exactly. It vaporized. It was replaced with a dark, heavy cloud that sat in my chest, poisoning my blood with every breath.
It took six months to be able to look at myself in the mirror without wanting to punch it. It took journaling, kickboxing classes, and endless wine-soaked tear-stained nights with my girlfriends to finally consider putting myself out there again someday.
When I went out dancing with Kelly, I’d finally forced myself to look at men again. I had no way to know that I’d literally stumble into a man who would have been absolutely perfect for me if not for his name.
The universe has a sick, twisted sense of humor about some things.
Now all I could do is avoid Eric, and know that someday, there was hope that my heart might heal enough to let someone in for more than one wild night and morning.
At least there was hope. That was always important.
~ Chapter 8 ~ Eric ~
* Desperation *
After sending Eden several texts and not hearing back, I sent her just one a day. Something chatty and light. I didn’t want to sound desperate, even though I obviously was.
By Wednesday night I was losing my mind. I didn’t want to obsess over her, but I couldn’t help it. There was no way I could go back to my regular life. I needed Eden.