A life more complete, p.4
A Life More Complete, page 4
“What? That’s hilarious! Did you say anything?”
“No. I just closed the door. It sort of became the norm. I learned a ton from my parents that I’m pretty sure they didn’t intend. I used to tell my high school girlfriend to wear shorts with no underwear, because we could do it without ever taking off our clothes. She never found that very entertaining. She was a prude.”
“Next time I’ll wear no underwear,” I say as seductively as I can manage without sounding too slutty.
“Why bother? You end up totally naked in my bed anyway.”
He rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow. His hand glides absentmindedly between my breasts and onto my stomach, stopping his hand to cover my belly button. He leans over and kisses me slowly letting his lips linger on mine. Desire begins to loom over me like a dark cloud. How does he manage to create that feeling with the most indiscriminate touch? Rolling onto my side, I slide my body closer to him. He slips his arm under my head, cradling me against him and pressing his lips to my forehead. I sigh deeply. I finally feel myself relax, as I grow used to being this close to someone. I giggle as I recall my first meeting with Ben.
“What?” he asks, pulling back and glancing down at me.
“I was just thinking about when I first met you on the beach. Remember? Roxy followed me.” Hearing her name causes Roxy to feel like it’s an invitation to join us on the bed. She spins at the foot of the bed and lies down quietly.
“Of course I remember.” He pauses and kisses my head again. “I have to admit something to you.” I giggle because I can only imagine what he has to say. “When you dissed me that day, it only made me want you more, sort of that wanting what you can’t have mentality.”
“Thanks for not stalking me and just so you know, I kind of wanted you too. You were all wet and shirtless and looking like you do. I thought about you a lot after that.”
“See and I thought you were a good girl. But I did stalk you. I just did it in secret. Did you really think it was a coincidence that I met up with you every morning at the beach?”
“I am a good girl, obviously, I had no idea you were stalking me. I’m glad you did, I wouldn’t have pursued you.”
“There’s something about you that I can’t ignore,” he says and his voice turns to a whisper. “I’m drawn to you.”
I close my eyes and a shudder runs over my body. I knew this day would come, but I’m still not prepared for it. His words terrify me, but I don’t say anything.
---Chapter 5---
Rolling over, I cover my face with my arms as a waffle print of sunshine glows on the wall across from Ben’s bed. His arm is thrown over my stomach and his leg is intertwined with mine. Sunshine? Holy shit! Without even giving it a second thought, I fling Ben’s wayward body parts off of mine and jet out of bed. I grab the alarm clock off the nightstand and launch it back onto its home with a crash. 7:55?
“Ben!” I yell startling him even more as he emerges from sleep. His eyes heavy and his hair all mussed as if someone just woke him casually. He stretches and every muscle in his body flexes and tenses. Through a yawn, he finally speaks, “Just call in sick. We can lay here all day.” His smile, lazy and full of sensual promise that I can’t even begin to think about or it will be my undoing.
“Why didn’t you set an alarm? Now I’m late for work and I have no clean clothes, not to mention underwear.”
“Seriously, call in sick. No point in going in now. Too late already.” He closes his eyes and rolls over pulling the sheets up to his neck.
“Not everyone is the boss. I have a boss and she is gonna be pissed.” I scramble to find my clothes that managed to get strewn around the room in at least eight different locations. I pull on the same seersucker suit I wore yesterday and cross my fingers that no one notices. I was only in the office for an hour yesterday. Who am I kidding? That will be the first thing Melinda and Bob notice. I can’t get it together fast enough. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and brush my teeth with Ben’s toothbrush. Stumbling through the room I lean down and kiss Ben good-bye. He mumbles incoherently as I fly out the bedroom door.
I rifle through my gym bag as I pull into the parking garage. I find nothing but shorts, a stick of deodorant, a yoga tank, socks and a pair of running shoes. It’s useless, looks like I’m doing the walk of shame into my office.
I try to move as quickly as possible, but Maggie eyes me suspiciously from behind the reception desk. Not sure if this is because I’m late or if it’s because I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I try not to dwell on it.
“Morning, Maggie,” I say as breeze by.
“Good Morning, Kristin. Trini called about an hour ago, asked me to page you. She said she was sure you were here, but she couldn’t reach you on your cell or at your desk.” Her voice begins to grow quiet since I don’t stop to listen.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I make it to my desk virtually unscathed. I start up my laptop and login to my email. I scroll through emails and answer some absentmindedly as Bob strolls into my office.
“I come baring gifts. Someone put it on my desk. I think they’re trying to kill me,” he says holding out a blueberry muffin. Bob is what he likes to refer to as a “glutard”. He has Celiac disease, so in his honor I have learned to bake just about any dessert that is gluten free. I also don’t mind taking one for the team and eating any baked good that might jeopardize his health.
When I stand and walk toward him he nearly stumbles backward. “Did you seriously do the walk of shame at work? Have you no thought to leave clothes in your car? You’ve been friends with Melinda for how long now and you forgot the one piece of advice she hands out willingly?” He tsks and shakes his head at me.
I shrug my shoulders while picking at the top of the muffin, popping a few small bites into my mouth in an attempt to avoid conversation. “Do I look shamed?” I ask.
“No. You look...” he pauses for a second, “wrinkled.” He leans down and tries to smooth the lapel of my jacket. “Lose the jacket. Far too wrinkled to be acceptable.”
“Thanks. Will do,” I say slipping it off and stuffing it into my laptop bag. Ellie glances into my office for the second time in thirty seconds. I give Bob a wide-eyed look that says get out without actually saying it.
“Gotta run. Enjoy your muffin, my little love muffin,” Bob quips as he heads out the door.
I turn my attention back to the reason I’m here. My morning goes along quietly. I begin to secure dates for book signings for one of my newer clients and by the time I’m done it’s lunchtime. Since I didn’t get my run in this morning I head to my car to grab my gym bag. I stop off at the deli around the corner from my office and grab a turkey sandwich. I’ll eat while I change my clothes.
One of the many things I love about working in the city is the fact that there’s a gym in my office building. I climb onto the treadmill and glare at the laminated paper taped to the front stating that I have a 30-minute time limit. Screw that. I need at least an hour, more would be wonderful, but I need to get back to my desk.
In an hour I make it just over six miles. I shower and put my day old clothes back on. I look better, still wrinkled, now without makeup and wet hair. My cell phone rings just as I’m walking out the door.
“Kristin Mullins,” I answer politely.
“Krissy!” Trini’s voice is shrill. She’s my only client that calls me Krissy. “I have been trying to call you all morning. Didn’t Maggie tell you? Oh my God, why didn’t you call me back?” She’s dramatic as always.
“What’s up?”
“Oh my God, Krissy! The paparazzi took a picture of me getting out of my car and now my crotch is all over the tabloids again,” she sighs and whines all at the same time.
“What do you want me to do? I told you last time this happened to wear underwear every day and try climbing out of cars more lady-like. I’ll contact the tabloids with a cease and desist letter, but that’s about all I can do.”
“Okay, but I...uh I don’t know. Why does this keep happening to me?” She’s whining again.
“Um, because you keep going out in public without underwear.” I would never speak to my other clients the way I speak to Trini. Even this is subdued when it comes to Trini. She does stupid things and then regrets them later. Someone like me is always there to pick up the pieces.
“I know. Sorry. Love you, Krissy.” She makes a kissing noise into the phone and I roll my eyes. I love her, but sometimes she is exasperating.
It’s after five by the time I finish up dealing with Trini’s latest mishap. The tabloids agreed to remove the pictures from their websites, but the magazines went to print already. I call her with the news as I shut down my computer. She’s not as whiny and I know when I hear her voice she’s been drinking.
“You at dinner?” I ask.
“Yes, just ordered. Nearly finished a bottle of wine,” she laughs. We both know full well she’s not old enough to drink and if the restaurant has any idea who she is they know, too. “I’m here with Luke and when we’re done, we’re going out clubbing.” Luke is Trini’s actor boyfriend. He’s a prick and the worst kind, a young, rich, actor prick.
“Be careful. I don’t want to deal with any more crap tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. Bye, Krissy.”
My phone dings with a text and it’s from Ben. I smile and open it.
Ben: Coming over. Be there in an hour. Me and my bed missed you today.
I quickly text him back.
Me: Good. I’ll get dinner. Just leaving now...seriously.
I add in that last part because I know he thinks I’m full of shit. More times than I can count I have uttered that phrase and stayed at the office for several more hours. Today was a good day. I don’t know when I started to hate my job. I thought it would be one of those things that built over time, but it snuck up on me. Suddenly it was there and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I thought maybe I’d just lost focus and eventually it would return, but each day I set about the same path with the same fake smile and the same worn out drive that lingered no matter what. I used to love my job and all the excitement and travel that came with it. I would send my best friend Gia pictures of me standing in front of landmarks in New York City, on a yacht or in a seaplane headed to some obscure island.
I try to pinpoint exactly when it became a chore, a task, something I despised, yet I can’t put my finger on it. I know it was a few years after I started. Somewhere between Trini’s meltdown in ‘03 and getting bitch slapped by a former client in ‘04. I just know this is not where I pictured myself when I double majored in journalism and public relations. I didn’t intend to stay on with Ellie for more than a few years, but I got sucked in. I needed a job and she offered me one. Being on my own didn’t help and when the money began to roll in I knew I couldn’t leave.
I pick up Chinese food on the way home and Ben and I eat on my balcony. We finish eating and settle on the couch. I curl up against Ben as he slouches down and flips through the channels. Roxy hops next to me and spins in a circle before coming to rest against my legs.
“Did you work today?” I ask.
“Yeah. I did. I’m a sucker. What can I say?” He yawns and pulls me closer to his body. “How was your day?”
“Fine. The usual crap. Answered emails, too many phone calls, Trini did something stupid.”
“No shit? What’d she do now?”
“Didn’t wear underwear and the paparazzi caught it on camera. I’m sure your ex from high school is judging her right now.” He laughs and I feel his chest rise and fall against my head.
“She never learns, does she? But if she did I guess your job would be pretty dull.”
“Right now I’d give anything to be cleaning pools instead of this shit.”
“I know where you can get a job, but just know the grass isn’t always greener,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders.
“I just might take you up on that offer. But right now I have a better offer.” I stand up and reach for his hand tugging him toward the bedroom. His eyes widen and he comes willingly.
We lay together my body curled around his. “Are you staying tonight?” I want his answer to be yes more than anything.
“Of course. You might pull the rug out from underneath me at anytime, so I’m sticking to you like glue.” He reaches over and gently brushes a loose strand of hair out of my eyes. His hand lingers as his fingertips trail along my cheek, then trace my lips. I sigh at his touch, longing to be closer to him, to feel him against my bare skin. He relaxes me in a way no one ever has.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ben. I can’t resist you.”
“You did for so long. I don’t know what changed your mind, but I’m glad it did.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I’m going to get a glass of water. You want anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m gonna take a shower.”
I emerge from the shower only to see my BlackBerry blowing up on the nightstand. Four phone calls, two voicemails and a text, all from Trini. I ignore them. I don’t even bother to read the text or listen to the voicemails. I flip it over face down and turn the ringer off. I throw on some clothes and head off to find Ben. He isn’t in bed, so I skip toward the kitchen to see what’s keeping him. A smile still plastered across my face. I find him in my extra bedroom. Coming up behind him, I place my hands at his shoulder blades and trail a line of soft kisses across the muscles in his back.
“What are these?” he asks pointing to the wall covered with framed maps I’d torn out of an atlas. The United States, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and California, all framed individually and clustered on one wall.
I smile. “Those are the maps my stepdad, Tom, used to draw my route from Naperville to Long Beach when I left. That was before GPS and cell phones. I still can’t believe I made it here. I was clueless.”
“I like his notes,” Ben says pointing to the one labeled, “Rule # 1.” He reads it and laughs. “‘If it sounds hokey it is hokey.’ So true. Your stepdad is a wise man.”
“Ex-stepdad. I’m pretty sure these maps were the demise of his marriage to my mom. She was completely against me coming out here, so him helping me was the most absolute showing of betrayal. My favorite is the one written on Nevada that says, ‘Always get your own drink at a party.’ He was paranoid I was going to get roofied. He was a Chicago city cop, then the chief of police in Naperville, so I can’t blame him, he’s seen a lot.”
“Oh my God, does that actually say, ‘Don’t let anyone search your car. Tell them to get a warrant.’? This coming from a cop, interesting.”
“That’s what it says. Like I said, he’s seen a lot.”
Ben inches closer and scans the maps. He laughs and points to a few more notes. “This is really great,” he says as he indicates toward the maps. “Slightly paranoid, but in a good way.”
“I know, but looking back, I’m glad. I really had no idea what I was doing or where I was going.”
Ben reads a few more of Tom’s comments out loud and by the time he’s done we’re laughing so hard that tears fall from our eyes.
Later on while we are lying in my bed Ben says, “I think I’d like your stepdad,”
“You would. He’s awesome. Tom is a brilliant, genius of a man. Diplomatic and unwaveringly cool. He really did an amazing job parenting three girls that didn’t belong to him. My mother, being the shitty parent that she was had Tom talk to us about sex. It is by far the best memory I have of him.”
Thinking about Tom makes me giggle and so I decide to tell him the story that Rachel, Maizey and I still laugh about.
“So, my mother enlisted him to discuss the evils of alcohol and drugs with my sisters and me, which I found strangely fascinating since she firmly believed he should have no part in the rearing of her children. He was an expert on the perils of drug abuse, my mom said, since he was a cop and all. If she wanted an expert opinion she should have gone to my father.” Ben listens closely and I can see his need to understand me growing with every word I share. “How he got conned into the sex talk, I still don’t know, but he did. He sat the three of us down to give us “the talk”. The funny thing was that I had lost my virginity just two weeks before that. My sisters and I developed early. I felt for Tom. He had to deal with the fact that we looked far older than we were and his police-induced paranoia caused him to lecture us daily. Rachel looked twenty-five at fourteen and was a dead ringer for Jenna Jameson.” I pause a minute and Ben says nothing, but his smile causes me to continue. “It’s hard to fight off the boys when you look like that,” I joke. “I knew the minimum there was to know about the actual act of sex. I knew at the time you put A into B and if you weren’t careful you would end up with product C. Product C was three kids in three years and that was enough birth control for me. I also had this firm belief that my parents only had sex three times during their marriage each time resulting in the conception of a child.”
Ben laughs out loud and tells me he thinks that’s the viewpoint of all teenagers. I laugh with him and continue my story. “My views were minimal and obviously outlandish. Yet I still chose to have sex. Tom was completely open in his discussion. He told us, ‘Use a condom because STDs are gross and a pregnant belly looks awful in a string bikini.’ A wealth of knowledge.” I leave out the one part that stuck with me all these years. Tom left the conversation with, ‘Remember don’t confuse sex for love. They are two entirely different things that are easily confused.’ It’s those words that haunt me to this day. I press in closer to Ben and feel the warmth from his body ease my anxiety.
