His Under Contract
As usual, my mind is on Holly when my calendar alerts me. Damn, Holly should be starting her period again any day now. I hope she won’t be in pain the way she was before. I’m also not excited about going without, I know she won’t be either. She really is hungry, greedy, and very comfortable in her sexuality. I love how she isn’t the least bit shy of asking for what she wants, when she wants it. The one that surprised me was her asking me to take her from behind, against the windows. A bit of an exhibitionist streak, I liked it.
I haven’t heard much from Amelia, we no longer have lunch dates. I’m not really bothered by it, when Amelia wants something she’ll call.
Since my alert had gone off while I was working out, I’m watchful when I go upstairs. Holly sets my plate down first, then goes back for her own. “How are you feeling? Any pain, have you started yet?”
She laughs. “Only you would know more about my period than I do. No pain, but you’re right I’m due to start within the next few days. I promise, I’ll let you know.”
“Good, none of this toughing it out bullshit.”
“I won’t, I promise.” She kisses my cheek.
Assured, I turn my attention back to breakfast.
We are interrupted by her period arriving again, and it’s as bad as it was last time, though she swears her flow is almost nonexistent. She takes more days off and we go back to cuddling again. Holding her in my arms, her warm soft body against mine fills me with a kind of peace I’ve never known. For me, cuddling used to last about two minutes, until I could get away. Now, Holly in my arms is the only way I can fall asleep, the only way I want to fall asleep.
I’m pissed the papers call her different from my usual; snarky bastards allude to her weight but stop just short of calling her fat. I don’t care what people are thinking about me. I’m concerned about Holly, worried they’ll hurt her feelings. If it does hurt, she never mentions it, only tells me that I’m going overboard, then she admits she would rather be home with just me. So, I decide to dial it back on dinners out but we keep the Sox games on our schedules.
I’m having a shit day, say fuck it, and leave work early. When I get home, I find Holly with her tablet, reading on the couch.
Her eyes light up when she sees me. “You’re home early!”
“Have you picked out a school yet?” I had meant to ask her last night, but she managed to make me forget all about it.
“I’ve got it narrowed down between two.” She huffs.
“Classes start in less than a month. You pick tonight, sweetheart, or I will.” I take off my jacket and loosen my tie as I keep walking into the bedroom. She follows me and with bright eyes, watches me undress. I shake my head. We were going to get the school thing over with before I let her make me forget again.
“You’re so damned bossy.” She pouts as she winds her arms around me. “I can decide and I will. Did your sister text you about having lunch sometime this week? She went on and on about visiting your parents, making it sound like she was getting sucked into a black hole against her will. It’s just a long weekend. What’s the big deal?” Sneaky little brat is walking me back towards the bed.
Just because we were on the bed didn’t mean we have to make love. I give in, tossing her on the bed then taking her into my arms as she grumbles, laying her head on my chest. “She sent me an email about lunch before she leaves. It’s actually something we usually do before she goes to visit them. They have a way of making her completely crazy and question her worth. Apparently, she’s never as good as I am, and not being married with children means she’ll die alone and be incomplete forever.”
“I thought my parents were bad. She’s twenty-eight years old with a law degree from Harvard. How can they make her question her worth? Do you ever visit them or talk to them?”
Her hesitancy is clear, the few times she’s asked about them before, I changed the subject. Not answering her questions had nothing to do with not wanting to talk to her about them. It had to do with not wanting to talk about them—period. Now it seems right, also because I’m aware it’s not fair to not talk about my family when I want to know about hers. I was curious about what made her the beautiful intelligent woman she is yet doubt herself far too often. “No, I haven’t spoken to them since I graduated from law school. They came to graduation even though I didn’t invite them. They made some stupid condescending remarks that showed how much they didn’t know me. I realized, after going years without them in my life, I hadn’t missed them. I knew I didn’t want them in my life ever again, they were toxic.
“My parents weren’t great at the whole parenting thing. Early memories of them included me with a nanny hovering in the background ready to whisk me away after a civilized time of them studying me. My
mother is East coast old-money who raised me the way she was raised, with nannies and no affection. When I was nine, I was sent to boarding school. For the first few years, I only visited at Christmas and over the summer. Both parents were more concerned with my father’s career. I believe he had aspirations of making colonel, but after an affair with an underage girl came to light, that was lost to him. They tried to blame it on me, but it’s bullshit. If anything, getting kicked out of military school for selling pot and all the shit that went down later gave them an excuse they never would have had before.”
Her eyes are wide as she hugs me close. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. It happened a long time ago.”
“What in the world were you doing selling drugs?”
Another shrug. “I was an entitled asshole. I had a very small allowance, compared to most of the kids at school, and resented the fuck out of my parents for it. If they weren’t going to buy me the things I wanted, or give me the money I wanted, then I’d get it myself. Hell, I didn’t even like pot. I hated the way it made me lose focus, and the way it smelled. I used it a few times but had no plans to waste money or time on it again. When the guy I bought it from called me to ask if I wanted more, I told him I didn’t. He liked that and asked me if I wanted to sell it, the school was a huge moneymaker. After I heard how much money I could make, I was in. He wanted to move up the ladder and make more money selling to other dealers. For him, it was better not having to worry I was going to smoke it all, and not pay him for it. I sold it for almost six months before an asshole ratted me out when he got caught with it. I got kicked out and sent to my parents.”
“That’s when you met Brittany.”
I’m not surprised she knows about Brittany. Amelia probably told her, as a caution to keep her away from me. “Yes, that’s when I met Brittany. It’s okay, you can ask about her.”
Her eyes go down, “Did you love her?”
“I was fifteen years old. I loved her the way I loved pizza and my leather, in the moment. I never thought of us as forever. She was pretty and she told me all the things a teenager wants to hear. I was hot, cool, and she loved me. I was aware she was trying to catch me and keep me, but because it made me feel good that she wanted me that much I didn’t care. Despite what my parents thought, I wasn’t stupid. I knew she got pregnant on purpose. It pissed me off, but it was my fault too. I never once thought of using condoms. I asked her to have an abortion. I tried to be logical about it. We were too young, this would change our lives and I wasn’t ready. She flipped out, completely lost it then threatened to kill herself, that way I wouldn’t have to worry about her or the pregnancy.
“I backed up, deciding to give us both some room. I’m not sure if she thought I was leaving her or what, but she found some of her mom’s painkillers and chased the bottle down with half a bottle of scotch. It worked. I swallowed my anger and went back to her, deciding to man-up and deal. Her parents found out when the doctors told them in the hospital and shit blew up.” I’m lost for a moment in the memories of the cold words my parents spoke to Brittany in the hospital.
“It was bad?”