My Ex's Dad

I have to make a promise to myself.

That was the first and only time I’ll do anything with Lorena, in my imagination or anywhere else.

Chapter Five

Lorena

I sit behind the counter in the laundromat, a textbook open on the counter in front of me.

It’s been a few days since the meeting with Lukas. He was true to his word about helping me find work. I started at the laundromat last night, and it went very well. It’s an easy job since the place basically runs itself. I’m only here just in case there’s an issue with change or one of the machines.

“Most laundromats don’t even have staff members these days, dad says,” Jamie told me last night, after giving me a ride to work in the car the insurance company has given him until his is fixed… if that hunk of junk can ever be fixed. “But he likes to help people. He knows there are lots of people out there who want to work, but there are certain things they can’t do. Maybe stress. Maybe they just aren’t suited for it. But this sort of work…”

“Anybody can do it,” I said, grinning. “It’s okay. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

“Yes, but not everyone is going to do the great job you are.”

He smiled in that typically Jamie way, half ironic and half sincere, as though the whole world was a joke. The laundromat is in a poorer area of the city, but it’s not a dangerous neighborhood, and people around here are friendly… at least if last night was any indication.

Now, there are two people in here, one elderly woman and a young man who could be a student.

I study the man. He’s tall, with an athletic build, the sort of man I can imagine other women being attracted to.

But when I look at him, all I can do is list the reasons why I’d rather be with Lukas.

It’s a dangerous game, one I’ve been playing far too often since the scene in my living room. I can’t let myself care about him, not Jamie’s dad. Not when Jamie was my only friend in high school.

But my old crush is back with a vengeance… not that it ever went away. When I was in college, though, it was easier to pretend I didn’t have this desire inside of me, this frantic need to run my fingernails down Lukas’s chest, to feel the power of his body as he thrust inside of me.

My attention wavers when the bell above the door rings.

Two men enter.

One of them is wearing a baggy hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to show his tribal tattoos. He looks around thirty, but it’s hard to tell with his thick beard. The other is shorter and has a tattoo under his eye, a small knife it looks like.

My first instinct is to assume they’re criminals, but I push away the judgment. It’s not fair.

But when they stride straight for the counter, instead of heading to one of the machines, it’s difficult not to feel a prickle of anxiety shoot up my spine.

“Hey, hot stuff,” the man in the hoody says, grinning so widely his beard shifts.

The other man snorts at hot stuff. My hands bunch into fists under the counter, but I have to remember that dealing with the public is part of the job.

“Hello, sir,” I say, keeping it professional.

Maybe he’ll take it as a hint.

He leans across the desk, causing me to move back slightly. He’s not doing anything outright hostile, but there’s a general presence in the air, as though he’s ramping up to something. I could be imagining it. I hope I am.

“What’s that?” He nods at the book.

“It’s about literary terms. I’m trying to learn them for a test.”

“Hmm. A test.” He runs his finger over the edge of the book. “Guess it makes you feel pretty special, right, reading these clever books as these sad saps wash their cheap clothes?”

There’s an edge to his voice… and an odor in the air. It was faint at first, but once I notice it, I can point it out for what it is. Alcohol. They reek of it. There are a few dive bars around the corner. Maybe they’ve just left one of those.

“No, I don’t feel that way at all,” I say, trying to keep my voice level.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, but I’m finding it hard to believe you. You see, that’s the whole reason we came in here.”

The other man laughs in a cruel way again. It’s like they’re a couple of bored kids looking for something to occupy their time… except I’m the one they’ve chosen to occupy their time with.

I try to keep my professional expression, the one I used to wear every day working as a waitress. No matter what the customers say or do, my old boss used to tell me, just smile.