Annihilate Me (Vol. 1) (The Annihilate Me Series) (21 page)

“Thank
you, Stephen.”

“Don’t
thank me,” he said with a grin.
 
“You’re the one who’s going to gain ten pounds this month.
 
Better join a gym.”

“Can
I put that on my card?”

“We’ll
see how you look in a few weeks.”

When
the night came, Lisa and I were beyond excited.
 
In our apartment, which now had one
mother of an air conditioner in the living room window thanks to an online
shopping trip on Amazon, we raced about in the cool air in an effort to get ready.

“When
was the last time you and I went anywhere?” she asked.

I
was in the bathroom putting on makeup.
 
“You mean beyond the laundromat?”

“Right!
 
I mean a real girls’ night out.”

“Oh,
that was about four months ago.
 
I
remember it well.
 
Burger King.
 
Just before we entered into Manhattan.
 
We’d driven all night from Maine.
 
We pulled over because we needed to use
the restroom and because we were starving, and we each scarfed down a Whopper
and fries at a particularly sticky table.
 
Not that we really cared.”

“I
think we even splurged on something that appeared to be frozen.”

“I
believe we did.
 
I also believe that
tonight will be better.”

“No
frozen fish sticks for us.”

“What
are you wearing?”

“Something
hot.
 
You?”

“Something
hotter.”

“Oh,
please.
 
I’m wearing zombie chic.”

“Well,
then.”

“By
the way, I finished the third draft of the book today—it should be ready
for you to read in a couple of weeks.
 
I need to let it sit for a bit, then do the final edits, then it’s
yours.”

“We
are so celebrating tonight.
 
Congratulations.
 
I can’t
wait to read it.”

“Thanks!
 
This book practically killed me, so
naturally I bought myself a killer new dress to celebrate.
 
I’m sure my zombie peeps love fish and
want me to look good eating it.
 
Or
anything undercooked.
 
Look at
me.
 
Behold my beauty.
 
Stand down and drink it in.”

She
stepped into the bathroom’s doorway.
 
She was wearing the perfect little black dress that only she could wear
because she was so tiny.
 
Her blonde
hair was pulled away from her face and hung straight down her back.
 
“You look beautiful.”

“What
about hot?”

“You
look hot.”

“Right?
 
I mean, this kind of hotness doesn’t
come around just every day.”

“Truth.”

“Are
you almost finished?”

“I
just need to blow out my hair and change.
 
Fifteen minutes.”

In
the kitchen, my cell rang.

“Don’t
answer it,” I said.
 
I turned on the
hairdryer and started to dry my hair.
 
What I wouldn’t tell Lisa was that a part of me wanted to answer it.
 
I was starting to second-guess leaving
Alex that night.
 
The further I
removed myself from what happened, the more I wondered if I’d overreacted.
 
There was no question that he went too
far, but did his actions warrant shutting him out of my life and not
communicating with him?
 
I was conflicted
about that, specifically because he had hurt me—physically and
emotionally.
 
I wondered what he had
to say, but I still deleted every voicemail.
 
That was reactionary on my part.
 
That night, he had reminded me of my
father and his treatment of me.
 
But
still I thought of Alex.
 
Still, I
fantasized about him.
 
I’d been
attracted to a couple of guys in college, but I never did anything about it for
too many reasons I’d yet to fully face.
 
But Alex?
 
Alex’s looks cut
me to the core.
 
So did his initial
kindness when he ran out onto the street and helped me to retrieve my
resumes.
 
That was impulsive on his
part.
 
He’d been a gentleman.
 
Was that the real him?
 
I wasn’t sure.
 
I might have made a mistake with him,
but so be it.
 
For whatever reason,
he became an ass that night.
 
That I
couldn’t ignore.

I
finished in the bathroom and changed into a short red dress for the
evening.
 
It wasn’t new.
 
It was something I’d had for a few years
and it hadn’t been expensive, but I still loved it.
 
When I showed Lisa what I was wearing,
she gleamed at me.

“I’ve
always loved that dress.”

“It’s
so old,” I said.

“Really?
 
Because when it comes to Blue, they’ve
never seen it.
 
To everyone there,
it’s new.”

“I
love you, Lisa.”

“I
love you more.
 
Now let’s go eat and
drink.
 
We deserve a martini with
proper vodka.
 
I might need three.”

“I
guess we can do whatever we want.
 
That’s expected of me.
 
I
just need to be sober enough to give them a full report tomorrow.”

“I’ll
help you in the morning,” she said.
 
“I’m a starving artist.
 
If
this is a weekly thing, I am so helping you out.”

I
grasped her hand as we left.
 
“Thank
you,” I said.

“For
what?”

“You
know what.
 
Don’t pretend that you
don’t.
 
I think the world of you and
I’m grateful for you.”

“Girlfriends,”
she said as we left the apartment.
 
“There’s nothing like them.”

CHAPTER TWE
NTY-FIVE

It
was at the close of my eleventh day on the job that I left the restaurant to
find a gleaming stretch limousine just outside.
 
I didn’t think much about it because db
Bistro attracted that kind of clientele, and also because two hotels were on
either side of me.
 
But when I went
to the curb to hail a cab and the limo nudged toward me, I knew what was up
even before the rear window receded and I saw his face.
 

Alex.
 

He
stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, and I was damned if my heart
didn’t race.
 
He wore faded jeans
that left little to the imagination and a white shirt that fit loosely against
his muscular chest.
 
Not that that
mattered.
 
I still could see his
body, regardless of how loose his shirt was.
 
Nothing could hide how muscular he
was.
 
On his feet were sandals.

I’d
never seen him look so casual.
 
I
loved how he looked in a suit, but this was different.
 
He looked beyond sexy and, even now, it
was impossible for me not to respond physically to him.
 
He was the manifestation of everything I
found attractive in a man.
 

Lisa
promised this was coming at some point, and here it was.

He
walked toward me.
 
“Jennifer,” he
said.

I
was grateful that I was able to wear what I wanted at work so long as it was on
trend and professional.
 
Tonight, my
hair was down, I wore a pair of off-white Dior pants I had scored for a bargain
at Century 21, my blouse was red Givenchy, and my shoes were matching red Prada
slingback pumps, also purchased at Century 21.
 
Physically, I felt that I looked better
than the last time he saw me, which was something of a feat given all Blackwell
and Bernie had done for me, but it nevertheless was true.
 
I had a good job and I was happy, which
gave me the confidence I’d been lacking since I had arrived in Manhattan.
 
When I nodded at him, I knew that
confidence was reflected in my eyes.

“Alex.”

“It’s
good to see you.”

“How
did you know to find me here?”

“I
had you followed the other night.”

“So,
now you’re stalking me?”

“I’ve
called you dozens of times, Jennifer.
 
I’ve left you at least the same amount of messages.
 
Because you won’t respond to them, I
took the next step.
 
I wanted to see
you in person.”

“I
should leave.”

“Will
you give me a moment?”

“What’s
the point?”

“Why
haven’t you responded to my messages?”

“Because
I don’t listen to your messages.
 
I
delete them.”

He
looked at me in surprise, and I could sense his disappointment.

For
a moment, we just stood there on the sidewalk.
 
People walked through the silence that
stretched between us as if there wasn’t a concrete wall there, but there was
because I had built it.
 

“I
really should be going,” I said.
 
“I’ve had a long day.”

“Why
won’t you listen to me?
 
Or talk to
me?”

I
pointed my finger at him.
 
“When
someone treats me the way you treated me, they don’t deserve me or my time.
 
Leave me alone.
 
Stop calling.
 
I’m in a great spot right now, and I’m
not interested in you.
 
I’ve moved
on.”

He
stepped closer to me.
 
“I don’t
believe that.”

I
stood my ground and didn’t move.
 
“You should.”

“I
can’t get you out of my head.”

“There
are pills for that.”

“Please
don’t be like that.
 
Don’t be
glib.
 
I didn’t come here
lightly.
 
I only came because it was
clear you weren’t going to return my calls.
 
When my wife died four years ago, I
never thought I’d find anyone who could stand in her shoes.
 
But then I met you.”

I
blinked at him.
 
He had a wife?
 
She died?
 
I felt horrible.

“I’m
sorry,” I said.
 
“I had no idea.”

“You’re
two completely different women, but even after all these years, I can feel
her.
 
This will make no sense to
you, but I think she’s the one pressing me to follow through with this.”

“How
did she die?”

“Car
accident.
 
She was on her cell
talking to me; she crossed the center line.
 
I heard everything as it happened.
 
It’s taken me years to get back on
track.
 
I know she’d want me to be
happy.
 
You make me happy.
 
I’m sorry I behaved the way I did.
 
It was inexcusable.”

“We
were having a good time.
 
What got
into you?”

“I
was jealous.
 
I thought you were
interested in Cyrus.
 
Then the two
drinks came from strangers who were checking you out.
 
All of it set me off.
 
Then, I wasn’t sure why.
 
But it didn’t take me long to figure it
out.
  
You’re beyond
impressive, Jennifer.
 
I’ve never
seen anyone so quick and so bright as you were when you convinced Cyrus to take
the deal to his father.
 
Watching
you in action was a turn on.
 
And
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.
 
I think you’re beautiful.”

I
overlooked the statement.
 
“Did you
make the deal?”

“I
did.
 
But only because of the way
you designed it for me.
 
Of course,
Cyrus had to bring something substantial to his father, who was thrilled that
his son finally showed a trace of interest in the company.
 
You nailed it.
 
I had no idea you had that in you.
 
I saw your resume, but you’re years
beyond it.
 
I apologize for
everything.
 
I want to see you
again.”