Living Lies (17 page)

Melanie nodded. “It’s a big place.”

“I work there and I live over there.” He shifted his index finger toward a complex of beige apartment buildings skirting the edge of the asphalt parking lot of his store.

“Convenient.”

“My drinking problem got worse after the divorce and my license was suspended, oh, what, seven months ago. Let’s go inside.”

He held open the tinted glass door as she processed her first impression of Phil. He looked normal, a typical man in his mid-forties with an extra 20 pounds around his waist, and receding dark hair that barely shaded his scalp. An enormous key ring jingled from a belt loop of his black Dockers and his black leather Rockports were scuffed.

The bright yellow booths of the food court were hard plastic and didn’t give when she sat with her six-inch submarine sandwich, chips and a drink.

“I’m trying to lose some weight,” Phil said, patting his stomach. “I saw that commercial about the guy who lost, like, 200 pounds eating this stuff.”

Melanie wiped the glob of mayo from the corner of her mouth.

“So, how do you know Jenny?”

“The ex-wife and I used to socialize with Jenny and Ryan. She’s a nice girl.” Phil shifted his weight and sat up straight. “Jenny tells me that you’re from D.C.”

“Well, I’m from San Diego but I’ve lived in D.C. for 10 years.”

Phil pinched down the end of his bread so his stuffed turkey sandwich would fit into the oval opening of his mouth. Melanie made a mental note.
Eating is not an attractive activity.

“What are you doing on a blind date? You obviously have no problem getting your own dates, and I’m certain that I’m not what you’re looking for, so why all this?” he asked, opening his arms in a wide gesture.

“Honestly,” she looked him straight in the eye, “I don’t date. I work a lot and there’s no time for…” she mimicked his “all this” motion.

“Okay, okay,” he repeated softly as she tried to explain.

“So, I thought it was time to give it a go, get back into the game.”

“Okay, I can relate to that. It’s been 18 months since my divorce and this is the first date I’ve been on. But if I’d have known what you looked like I’d have said no when Jen asked me to go out with you.”

Melanie felt her eye muscle twitch.

“What I mean to say is that I wanted to ease into dating with someone more on my level,” Melanie winced, as he continued, “you know, someone who’s not so attractive and has let herself go a bit, someone who might think I’m a catch. My shrink says that I have a self-esteem problem.” He licked his thumb and pressed it onto the potato chip crumbs.

Melanie wondered how much his therapist charged for that piece of information. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find what you’re looking for.”

“Well, I had thought that we could maybe, would you, I mean only if you want, but I thought we could see a movie? The one with Bruce Willis opened on Friday.”

The movie theater was located within the mall, and therefore within walking distance of Phil’s life.

“Yeah, I haven’t been to a movie in a long time.” She could already taste the hot buttered popcorn.

“How was your date with Phil?” Rita asked.

“All right,” Melanie said with a shrug.

She was a little more than satisfied knowing the dates were bombing through no fault of hers.

“Will you be seeing him again?”

Her mother’s sticky-sweet voice tried to sound casual, but Melanie knew that Rita was dying to know about Phil Malone. Melanie eased gently into an explanation of why things didn’t work out with the grocery store manager. Her mother’s eyes narrowed with each sentence until the beam from her eyes burned into Melanie’s throat.

“What?” Melanie asked incredulously.

“You’re doing this to spite me.”

Melanie gave a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, Mom, that’s what I’m doing.”

“You are doing this on purpose.” Her mom stomped into the kitchen.

Melanie followed.

“Don’t get mad at me, this isn’t my fault.” She tried not to get angry. “You think I like being rejected by men I didn’t even want to meet?”

“There!” Rita pointed her perfectly manicured index finger in Melanie’s face. “See, you’re giving off bad vibes to these men and they can feel it.” She turned and left the kitchen.

She’s crazy
, Melanie thought and reluctantly prepared for her evening date.

Third on the list was Lee Monte, a mechanic, a son of dad’s friend.

Wearing her black dress again, Melanie sat on the white upholstery of Lee’s souped up ’66 Mustang. He’d restored her bumper to bumper, painted her a bright red and named her Rose, after his mother. Rose, the car, was pristine. She was all he talked about on the way to the pizza parlor, where he ordered an extra-large meat lover’s pie. Melanie would have understood if Lee was a big guy, but he wasn’t. At 5’5” he couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds. But after Melanie ate two slices and the crust off a third, Lee polished off the rest.

“Do you work out?” Melanie sipped her soda as she watched Lee finish the slice without the crust.

He looked her with a gleam in his eyes. “I do. Would you like to see how?”

Melanie was taken aback for an instant, disturbed but curious. She agreed.

Lee drove rapidly across town to a two-story building. Colored lights lined the building and she could hear the music coming from inside.

“You dance,” she said, trying to picture Lee breaking loose on the dance floor.

“I
salsa!”
he said excitedly. “I was turned on to it about eight months ago and I can’t seem to get enough.” He had parked the car and was running to Melanie’s side to open her door. A mock gentleman, she knew his motivation was to protect Rose’s door from being slammed.

Inside the club, the cigar smoke was potent and the waves of laughter only caused the band to raise its volume in a competition of sorts, music verses conversation. Neither won.

The women wore colorful dresses that hugged tight from shoulders to thigh, where the fabric flared out dramatically. Melanie’s conventional black dress was out of place. Passing by tables she could detect a variety of Spanish dialects.

Lee stopped at an already-crowded table and squeezed in an extra chair. The group adjusted and by the end two women were sitting on one man’s lap. It was very cozy.

“Would you like to try to dance?” Lee asked her over the music.

Melanie nodded. Although her dress was the wrong color it had the makings of a fabulous salsa dress, a low neckline and the skirt that fluttered when she spun. They had stepped off to the side to practice a bit, Lee showing her the steps and counting, letting her get the feel of the rhythm.

“Pretty good, pretty good,” he assured her. “Now, see that woman in yellow?” he asked, glancing towards the dance floor.

“Yes.”

The woman wore a thick layer of makeup and her blood-red lips matched her talon-like nails. In her long, wavy brown hair, sprayed stiff, was a yellow flower.

“See her attitude?”

Bitch,
Melanie thought. “Yes.”

“You do that while we dance, OK?”

Melanie smiled. She could do that.

The band was starting a new set as she and Lee made their way to the dance floor. In her heels she towered over Lee but he didn’t seem to notice. Starting off slow so that Melanie could gain her confidence and absorb the beat of the music, Melanie kept her poise as they danced. Even when she flubbed it she kept on with the attitude. They danced until closing.

“I haven’t had so much fun in years,” Melanie said, rolling down Rose’s window to enjoy the cool breeze.

Coughing from the smoke in the dance hall, she refilled her lungs with fresh air.

“You know, if we practice every day I think we could be ready for the tournament in two weeks.”

Melanie tosseled her hair out the window, trying to rid herself of the odor that had soaked into her pores. Lee, hyped up on caffeine, talked nonstop. He’d worked out a plan – they’d meet every afternoon at a dance studio where Marcus would train them.

“Look, Lee, I did have a wonderful time dancing, but training for a competition is not how I want to spend the rest of my vacation,” Melanie told him when they parked in front of her house.

He tried feverishly to change her mind.

“We could win. I believe we have a shot.” He seemed astounded that she would pass up an opportunity like this. “Winning a tournament is an honor.”

“I’m sure it is, but I’m just not interested right now. Thank you very much. I had a great time.” Leaving the car door open, she jogged hastily into the house.

It was past 2 a.m., and her throat and eyes burned from the dense cigar smoke of the dance hall. She showered and went to bed.

Another one down
.

CHAPTER 10

The next morning marked the return of her daily jogs and her date with Bruce’s friend, Ty, a musician. He played lead guitar in a local band. Melanie called for reinforcements – she needed new clothes and Carla was the expert.

Through the years she had kept contact with Carla, even though her prim and proper ways had exaggerated themselves when Ted was elected to Congress. Now, Carla didn’t utter a word unless it was politically correct and well thought out.

“I’m really glad you called. I haven’t seen you much since you’ve been back,” Carla said as she drove to her favorite boutique.

“I’ve been on my blind date marathon. Tonight I’m meeting a musician at the club where he plays and I don’t have any idea what to wear.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to enlighten me on that one. I thought you’d never wear out those old jeans,” Carla said, linking onto Melanie’s arm and sounding too much like Rita. “Well, you’re in good hands now.”

A lunch and 42 shops later Melanie, had doubled her wardrobe and had been re-educated on the U.S. electoral process. Carla spoke of nothing but Ted’s upcoming run for a second term. His years in office had taken its toll on Carla’s personality.

Later that evening, after dinner at a 24-hour drive-through Mexican restaurant, Melanie met Ty at a bar near the naval base, wearing her new tight dark blue jeans, spiked heels and a sleeveless white cotton tank top. She circled the full parking lot twice before finding a spot between a big-ass truck and a hotrod. The club was filled with off duty military men in their twenties, all of whom seemed to be sporting crew cuts and holding a drink and a cigarette in one hand. Their muscular arms, covered with tattoos, wrapped possessively around the waist of their woman.

“Are you Melanie Ward?” shouted the woman from behind the bar.

Melanie stepped closer, nodding.

“Ty’s waiting at that table for you.” She pointed to a table up front by the stage. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A beer.”

The cold bottle was still wet from the ice as she went to meet Ty. He was the brother of a friend of Bruce. That could mean anything.

“Hi, Melanie, I’m Ty.”

He was very young with curly brown hair that reached his shoulders, full lips and a cleft chin. His loose satin shirt was unbuttoned, exposing a rock-solid set of abs above the belted jeans that sat low on his waist. A thorny tattoo armband wrapped around a well-developed bicep and Melanie sensed she was being undressed with his sexy, dark brown eyes.

They sat at a small table next to the stage before his set. He dragged a chair up too close to her and made himself comfortable.

“Busy place,” Melanie said to the over-confident youth.

A boisterous group gathered, pulling tables and chairs together and ordering pitchers of beer.

“My band is pretty well known.”

“So, Ty, are you even old enough to be in a bar?” Melanie asked, her eyes starting to burn from the smoke.

“I’m almost 24,” his pearly whites glistened and his eyes danced down her blouse.

Melanie laughed uncomfortably. Ty was more than handsome and he knew it, he worked it. Sitting close so their legs pressed up against each other, he draped his arm around the back of her chair and leaned in to her ear to speak. The scent of his musk mixed with a hint of pot was, surprisingly, not completely unpleasant.

Melanie was enjoying the attention. She played along, flattered by the advances of the sexually driven Adonis.

During his sets Ty kept eye contact with Melanie. It wasn’t sweet, it was erotic, and by midnight Melanie was, humorously, considering her options.

He joined her after his set and his sweaty closeness had lost its appeal. No longer was he musky, he just stunk. Melanie decided to make her break.

“You have a great band,” Melanie said, ready to leave. “I had fun.”

“But I thought we’d hook up after this gig, you know, go back to my place. Tumble around the sheets.”

Melanie smiled. “Sounds romantic, but you need a shower and I’m old enough to be your, well your big sister.” She stood and he blocked her path. “Ty,” she said, her eyebrows raised. She could feel his horny determination.

He flashed a smile before he put his lips on hers, pulling her up against his hot, wet, bare chest. She pushed his chest without much force causing him to dig his fingers into her back. His lips were powerful, confident and they maneuvered the strength right out of her bones.

The crowd enjoyed the show as they hooted and clapped.

Wow, nice kiss
, Melanie shivered, inhaling, stepping away.

“Sure you won’t stay?” Ty asked, in a full pout with a damn arrogant look of satisfaction stretched across his smooth face.

“Sorry, kid.”

Melanie felt flushed walking to the parking lot. Her body was on fire – lit up from Ty’s lust, youth, zeal, and from his kiss. Her body stirred. A man’s arms had embraced her hard and hungry, and she could still feel his lips and tongue.

It was a tough night. Restlessly, she tried to force her desires back where they belonged, locked away and forgotten. But Ty’s passion lingered through the next day when she was finally able to spend some time with her friends.

Excitedly she dressed in one of her new outfits, a sheer light-blue blouse, skirt, a pair of fine Italian shoes and her favorite item – a camel-colored fitted leather jacket. She was thrilled to feel like a college student getting ready for a night out with the girls.

Jenny and Carla were both married but in totally different situations. Jenny was a stay-at-home mom with three kids while Carla and Ted –
now Congressman Bradley
– had more of a business relationship than a marriage. Trish had not married and was always saying how lucky she was to be free. Still as outspoken as ever. Melanie’s relationship with her friends had fragmented through the years, each owning their part but Melanie taking most of the brunt.

“What a relief to be going out with you guys again, I’ve missed you.” Melanie hopped into the front passenger seat of Carla’s large SUV.

Settling into the soft leather seat, Melanie let out a huge sigh.

“How’ve the dates been going?”

Melanie rolled her eyes. “About as well as could be expected. Oh, and by the way, thanks, Jen, for setting me up with Phil.”

“You didn’t like him?” Jen grinned.

“Well, within the first two minutes he tells me his license has been suspended and he’s divorced. But, gee he sounded like a winner.”

“Yeah, he’s gotten a little chatty since he started therapy.”

“Let me just say that you will
not
have that problem with Jason,” Trish said, leaning forward from the back seat.

“I did good, too,” Carla added at the stoplight. “Nick’s a pilot, although I think he’s been divorced once or twice.”

Melanie closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest, instantly tired of this conversation.

Carla’s tone was defensive. “You aren’t going to find a man your age who hasn’t been married.”

“Hey, she’s not old,” Trish countered. “Besides, why does he have to be her age? Look at her, she’s hot. Mel, you could definitely catch a younger man. It’s the
in
thing, anyway.”

Melanie smiled, thinking about Ty.

“Speaking of young,” Melanie started her tale ending with the kiss.

“Oh, my God, you should have slept with him,” Trish laughed.

“No, you did the right thing.”

“Jesus, Car, you’re with us, not those judgmental prudes you have to schmooze for Ted’s campaign,” Trish said, giving Melanie a look of frustration.

“So, you think Melanie should just jump into bed with anyone?”

“I think you all need to lighten up and get laid. When was the last time you had sex? Mel? Car? Jen?”

The car dropped into a dead silence.

“I rest my case.”

Sitting at a corner table of a Mexican restaurant that had just opened, the girls ordered a pitcher of Margaritas.

Carla lifted her glass of ginger ale, “I will try to be less puritanical.”

“I will try to have more sex.” Melanie raised her glass.

Trish lifted hers. “I will try to keep my mouth shut.”

“And I will try and put up with the rest of you,” Jenny said, clinking her glass to the other three.

“To friends.” They all drank.

“I can’t believe your mom tricked us all into this whole mega-blind-dating spree. She actually had me believing you were a lesbian,” Jenny said. “She’s good.”

“I have to confess that I think it was a good idea and way past due,” Trish added. “You needed to get off that old, ugly plaid couch.”

Jenny laughed as she dipped a chip into the green salsa.

“Okay, I’ll agree that I needed a kick in the butt. But what you don’t understand is that I am happy with the way things are right now. Besides, don’t you think an intervention was a tad melodramatic?”

Taking a sip from her drink Melanie licked the clumpy rock salt from her lips. She could hear Jenny talking but it was the man standing with the hostess who captured her attention. He was tall with dark, wavy hair and a strong jaw line, wearing black trousers and a white dress shirt with the first two buttons open.

She stared, taking in his every detail: the square shoulders, the full lips that stretched perfectly across his face into a broad smile. She imagined his kiss and didn’t doubt that it could exceed expectations. Carried away in her daydream she looked up to his eyes – which were looking directly at her.

She sucked in an embarrassing gasp – he’d caught her openly gawking. Her heart skipped and she could feel the warmth of his smile from 10 feet away. She nodded sheepishly at him, ashamed, before turning her attention back to her table, trying to act undisturbed by his presence.

Torturing Melanie further, the hostess seated him facing her at a nearby table.

Just a quick glance
, she looked up cautiously, and again he was looking right at her. His mysterious eyes caused goose bumps to rise on her flesh.

Damn it, this is Ty’s fault!
Melanie scolded silently.
Mel get a grip, have you never seen a handsome man before?

Ty’s lips touching hers had begun a chain reaction beneath her skin and now she was foolishly being carried away by the marvelously green eyes of a stranger.

Angry at her own weakness, Melanie reengaged in the debate ensuing around her.

“Mel, do you think you’ll see any of these guys again or not?” Jenny asked for a second time. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Melanie answered quickly, “These dates are purely to satisfy my mom, not me.”

“I told you,” Trish exclaimed.

“But,” Melanie hesitated. “Maybe…” she hemmed.

“Really?” They said in unison, surprised.

“Wow, your mom’s trick worked.”

“Some of the dates have been kind of fun.”

Melanie’s eyes shot to the man sitting only feet away. Again he caught her glance,
damn!
He smiled and she tightened her mouth in a scowl, wishing he’d stop looking at her. Her desire was granted when the hostess escorted a modelesque woman with flowing blonde hair to the table where he was seated. He stood as she approached and Melanie, stealthily, kept track of the manner between the two. The woman on closer inspection was as beautiful as her first im-pression although her dress, a light-blue satin gown, seemed too fancy for the casual atmosphere – it was hardly a flaw.

The girls, excluding Carla, indulged in a second pitcher of strawberry margaritas.

The arrival of the woman acted as a repellent. Melanie was mostly able to keep her eyes and her mind at her own table. The alcohol had loosened the atmosphere and she enjoyed her friends while savoring her cheese enchiladas with a side of rice and beans topped with a layer of sliced lettuce and goat cheese. But even as she ignored the couple she was also painfully conscious of her every move.

When the bill was paid there was nothing left for her to do, she looked directly at him and memorized his face.