Finding North (Naïve Mistakes Series) (4 page)

I washed my face, got undressed and put on a white tee, crumpled under the bed.

My room was hot. I tossed and turned and fought my comforter, eventually kicked it off.

Why did I have to phone them right in the middle of it!?
Oh yeah, oh baby, fuck yeah, umpf, oooh. You like that?

I turned. Tossed. The image of Brad behind Kayla's little body, pulling her by the waist, thrusting into her, hitting, pelvis against butt, sweat lubricating their skin, then the groans. But now it wasn't Kayla in that car seat. It was me. And my hand was on the headrest and I'm moaning, breathing quickly,
begging
for him to get back inside me every time he moves out.

I threw the comforter off me! I felt that all too familiar ache and pressure between my legs. My head was sweating. Only one thing was gonna help me sleep tonight.

I moved my hand into place.

It didn't take me long.

-1-

I slept until eleven but forgave myself because it had been a late night, and then there'd been that whole couldn't-sleep thing. I went down the stairs and Kayla was sprawled on the couch, one arm dangling out and her mouth open, a bit of spittle falling from it. Her earphones were in her ear.

She looked so innocent.

I put on the coffee machine and brought her a cup. Her nose twitched as the brew came near and, practically with her eyes closed, she reached for it, warmed her hands and took a sip.

"Mmmmmmm, better than sex," she said.

After my thoughts of Brad last night, I doubted it.

I felt a little like I was cheating on my best friend. I had to get this thing off my chest. I mean, it was masturbation. How bad could it be? That's why god invented the thing, wasn't it? So we can cheat in our minds but in the actual act? At least that's my theory.

I decided to change the subject (even though the subject was in my own mind!)

"Did you know anyone at the party yesterday?"

Kayla shook her head. "No, should I have?" I looked away. "What?"

"No, it's just that... I met this guy at the club and, well, one of the people he was with was at that party."

"So? Half of fuckin Wall Street was there. Heck, I even think they flew over some producers from L.A. to join the orgy. That...
thing
of person that tried to get it on with me is the head of a bank. Or so he said."

"I see."

"Hey, wait a minute. There's more to this, isn't there?" Kayla had on this "I know something" look. She smirked. "Did you like this guy? The one you think you saw at the party?"

I think I blushed. "Maybe."

"Was he hot?"

"Very! Although I don't know what he looks like under a shirt. And he looked kinda old for me as well."

"Honey, those are the best. They're experienced. And they have money. (Although Brad didn't seem to be the loaded type.)"

I fidgeted. "You had a good time with him? I mean, with Brad?"

"I fucked him. Or should I say, he fucked me. It was good."

"Yeah, but, I mean, do you
like
him?"

She gave me a suspicious look. Then revelation covered her face. "You doused the digits over him, didn't you?" She was smiling, nodding approvingly. Heck, it looked like
I
was the one who just got laid!

"Did not!" I threw a pillow at her. "And what a disgusting way you put it!"

"You did! I can see it! You're all red!" She was laughing now.
Damn it
.

"He was nice, wasn't he?" she said.

Fuck it, I was starting to get warm again...

"I got his number for you."

She stopped, an iota of seriousness going over her face. Or was it? "Huh?"

"I said I got his number for you."

She smiled again, but I could see now that it was forced. That she was trying to hide what she was really thinking which was:
Damn, sister. You gonna screw my guys just like that last bitch?

"Kayla,
he
picked you up from that hotel. I went looking for you and found him and then..."

"Oh my God." She ran her fingers through her hair. "That is so embarrassing."

"So, anyway, he seems like a nice guy. I mean, a nice guy for
you
."

She was all serious now, coffee back on the coffee table. She sat back, brought her knee to her chest and looked out into the hall. (She also had on yellow socks.
My
yellow socks!)

"Yeah, well, thanks, but I'm good," she said.

I stared at her.

"What, you want me to call him and say, 'Uh, high, guy that I screwed, thank you for saving me from being raped by that bald fat dude who smelled like he'd been on the treadmill for an hour.'"

"That's exactly what I'd like you to tell him."

"You know I'm no good with relationships, don't you?"

"This isn't a relationship, Kay. It's politeness."

It's good that she didn't have any coffee in her mouth, because she would've spat it out. "Politeness?" She made air quotes. "Well, Headmistress Tabathy
—"

"Oh, shut up!"

She laughed at me—
again
!

"Just as an FYI," she said, "I have no problem with you and him, you know, doing..." She stuck a finger through a loop of her hands and moved it back and forth.

"You are
so
gross."

"That's why you love me." And now her grin was delightfully Mary Poppinnesque. All she needed was the umbrella.

"I do love you, Kay. I love you more than anyone."

"Oh, don't get all first-world fucking sympathetic with me, girl."

I shrugged, feeling insanely emotional for some inane and incomprehensible reason. Kayla came over and hugged me. "I love you too. You
and
your dumbass comments."

-2-

We were interrupted by a liveried Maria walking in. "Oh, hello, Ms Kayla. Did you have a good night?" she said.

Maria is practically my mom. I mean, the
real
mom. You know, the one who provides the emotional support when I need it (not to mention some bad-ass Mexican food whenever I'm in the mood for a binge.)

And she doesn't judge Kayla. In fact, I think she quite likes her. Kayla's not a stuck-up snob as is so common in this party of town. And, even though her mom makes plenty of dough, Kayla's upbringing in Brooklyn (more recently, Park Slope) has kept her untarnished with respect to "the high life."

"Um, Maria, we had...not the greatest night," Kayla confessed.

Concern washed over Maria's face. "Oh, dear, everything OK?"

"Yeah, yeah." Kayla patted me on the leg. "I have a good friend.
Two
good friends it seems." She winked at me. (So, she admitted that Brad was part of the solution last night, eh?)

"That is what life is about, no?"

"So they say. Now I'm going for a shower." Kayla got up and headed for the main bathroom.

Maria got on with her work and I went to my room for my own shower. It was Saturday, and I didn't need to work out today.

I had another look at Conall Williams's card. Why had he given it to me? And who was that guy at Raphael's place that looked like him? And how frickin old was he anyway? Was I wanting to call him because he was gorgeous, or because I somehow wanted to ram my fists into someone's face for what (almost) happened to Kayla at that drunken revelry?

Yeah, it was that last reason....

One thing was for sure, thinking of Mr. British Blue Eyes brought
zero
reaction down in the Southern Department. Nothing, Nada. Zilch. I was about as turned on by him as I normally was by a wet noodle.

And, yet, he did have those adorable eyes.

"Ah, fuck it." I flung the damn card on my nightstand and jumped in the shower.   

-3-

I couldn't help thinking of Brad again. Images of him came to me like a freight train and crashed into my mind...

But I knew where I stood on this one. There was no questioning it and I wasn't suffering a "moral dilemma" about it all. Mr. Scorpion Tattoo was hot. And he'd screwed my friend. And that was that.

Only problem is, I wasn't sure if that friend was going to try and hook us up herself now that she knew I'd...how had she put it?...
doused
the digits. (Where does she come up with these things...?)

I turned the water down to cold and froze my frickin ass off. But it did the trick. I dried myself down and headed back to Conall Williams's card.

Financial Software Consultant
.

I made my decision.

I called him.

-4-

"Conall."

"Er, hi, um...."
Damn it! Now I'm gonna sound desperate. It's hardly been twelve hours since I met the guy and I'm calling him? But, no, this is for my friend. So what the fuck am I so nervous for?

Car horns honked behind him.

"Hello?" he repeated.

"Um, hi, um, yes, C
—C—Conall?"

"Yes, who's this?" Why did he have to have a goddamn accent? That was not playing fair...

"Um, this is Leor—"

"Leora..." By the way he'd said it, it sounded like his eyes had just gone wide and he'd gotten a grin on his face...

"I'm so glad you called," he continued. "Look, I truly do apologize for my behavior last night. I was at that stupid club on business and I couldn't wait to get out of there and have a shower. Would you like to get some coffee?"

I gulped. Coffee?

"Um, yeah, sure..." I noticed I was talking quietly.

"What's your schedule like now?"

Schedule? You gotta be kidding. "Um, it's free— Oh, no, wait—" I thought of Kayla. I had to be with her today. "Um, actually, today is not good, or... Can I call you back?"
Doh!

"Why, yes, of course. I have a number of meetings today as well
—internal stuff because bankers don't work on a Saturday." He gave a chuckle. "Um, but I have your number now. Would it be alright if I called you tomorrow? Maybe we could grab a coffee then?"

My throat got thick. I squeezed my legs, crossed them. Why did this guy have this effect on me. Heck, why did
all
these guys seem to be having this effect on me lately? I decided it was because my period had just ended and I was like a dog on heat. Yeah, that was it. And yeah, I had just compared myself to a mutt.

"Leora?"

"Uh, yeah, hi!"

Right then, Kayla walked into my room, wrapped in a towel. No doubt to rummage through my clothes.

"Is tomorrow OK? I'll call you."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Bye!" I hung up.
Great, Leora. Smooth. Very smooth.

"Was that Brad?" asked Kayla from within my walk-in.

"No!" I threw the phone down.

"The other guy?"

"How do you know it was a guy?"

"Because you're red as a girl on
—"

"Stop! My God, do you
really
go to a school with the word 'Convent' in the name?"

"Hey, it's not my fault my mom wants to atone for her sins by sending me to a catholic school. What's your excuse?"

I said nothing, played idly with my sheets.

"Leora?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Look, are you gonna call Brad or not?"

"God, can a woman get dressed first? And why are you so hot for me to call him. I told you, if you like him, go for him. I'm cool with it. He's not my boyfriend or anything."

Yeah, but he should be
.

"I'm not interested in him," I lied. But, technically, it was the truth. Because I'd never do anything with him. Now if Kayla could just stop reminding me about it then I might actually stick to my promise.

I watched her as she strolled up and down my closet, pulling out dresses and putting them in front of her. Not a care in the world. I saw small bruises on her waist. Fingertips. So he
had
grabbed her there. (Kayla had one of those skin types that bruise with the slightest of touches.)

"You checking out my junk?" she asked, turning to face me full frontal.

"You're so crass."

She pulled out an open sleeve shirtdress and put it on. Then grabbed some ragged tights. The shoes, however, were her own. She always kept a few pairs at my place. "There, all done. You been standing watching me all the time?"

"Yeah, I guess I have... Sorry."

"Shit, girl. Here. Put something on!" I unwrapped myself from the towel. "Damn! You're looking
buff
, Leora!"

"Huh?" I looked at my ass in the mirror. "No, I'm not!"

"Yes you are! Soon you're gonna grow a beard and start talking with a gruff voice!"

She was exaggerating of course. I was short and stocky. Better than short and pudgy, that's for sure. Some of us just have to work harder to keep our shape. And I hadn't found Mr. Right yet... It was a subject I didn't want to discuss.

I put on some denims and a tank top, covered it all with a simple sweater. "Perfect. Starbucks?"

"No way. There's this new place called
Café Mocca
down on 3rd. I wanted to check out."

"Let's do it."

-5-

Café Mocca
was cool. It was in a small hidden corner and didn't fit a lot of people. You could actually hear yourself talk! They had couches and one-seaters and ambient music. Artsy paintings filled the wall. One of a cow. One of what looked like a breast...or a cab? I couldn't really tell. And another of, well, a bunch of green stuff. That one was going for over four thousand dollars!!