“I’m leaving.” I jump up and stomp to the closet, tearing off the nightgown Daddy told me to wear. He even had me send a picture to him as he boarded the plane, showing him how I looked. Well, I’m not his plaything, a doll to dress up and use while he’s bored. “Right now, Heather. I’m leaving right now,” I shout to my wide-eyed friend sitting on the bed.
I’m jerking and tugging myself into the dirty white skirt and the Daddy’s Girl T-shirt I wore yesterday. It seems so long ago I fell out of the car and started this cascade of events. So much has happened. Time truly does bend and stretch because we’ve fit so much into such a short period.
“Goddammit.” My arm gets stuck trying to shove it through the sleeve of the T-shirt, and I nearly tear the fabric forcing it to yield.
I don’t want to wear this either, but I don’t want to take anything from Rueger.
Cheating jerk.
“Lexi, wait.” She puts a hand on my arm, and I can see the concern in her eyes. But I just want to be out of here. “I mean, I get that this all looks suspicious. God, it looks damning. But you also said you Googled him. It didn’t say he was married, did it?” Heather twists her face and flops across the bed on her stomach. “Google knows that shit.”
“He told me he wasn’t married. I don’t care. Men lie about that stuff all the time.” I blink away tears, not willing to let them flow for him. “And I didn’t do some public records search on him. I just looked him up and his company. At the time, I wasn’t thinking I was anything more than a hard case to fluff his PR image. I’m an idiot for thinking I’m anything more than some kinky fantasy he can’t get his wife to fulfill. Come on, let’s go. I’m done.”
I throw the iPhone across the room and lift the strap of my messenger bag over my shoulder, centering it across my chest.
Heather huffs but gets herself up and off the bed.
“Why’d you call me all the way over here if we were just going to leave again?”
“I needed you to see. I needed someone else to witness this…mess. Just come on.” Tears sting in my eyes, but I don’t want to show her. I’m sick of being weak and vulnerable. A man like Rueger could smell that on me. I was an easy mark for his little game. “Stupid sloth Band-Aids.” I reach down and rip the plastic strip off my skinned knee, leaving it on the floor as we leave the bedroom. “Get your dumb meat out of the fridge, and let’s go.”
“Okay, okay, we’re going.” Heather stomps behind me down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I’m already out on the porch waiting when she comes back out with the white waxed-paper package under her arm.
“How am I going to go back to work?” I mutter to myself as I start up the four flights of stairs to our apartment. Heather is dealing with her bike. She told me to go on up.
Something makes me turn around as I hit the fifth step. At first, I don’t know what it is that’s got me spooked, but then I spot him, Ricky, standing just outside the door to the street, taking a picture of me.
“Stop being such a creep!” I shout. He’s always been a little stalkerish, showing up at odd times, watching me, or just sort of being more attentive than a neighbor should be. But this is the first time I’ve ever noticed him taking pictures. My anger is already boiling, and this sets it off on a new level. I force myself to walk up the rest of the steps and manage to get myself into our apartment before bursting into tears.
An hour later, I’m still sobbing when Heather holds the first spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s vegan peanut-butter-chunk ice cream to my snot-covered lips.
“Jesus. You are a mess.” She shakes her head as I reluctantly take the creamy goodness into my mouth. “I hate seeing you like this.”
A few bites later, I’m ready to form words again, even though my heart is in sharp, jagged pieces inside my chest.
“What is it with my life? Stupid Ricky taking pictures of me now? Did you know about that?” The words come out thick and slow, my tongue frozen by the ice cream.
“No. Really?” Heather looks toward the window, then down at the ice cream before taking a small scoopful for herself. Her eyebrows draw tight, and she swallows before continuing. “I just saw him across the street in the window of another apartment. He had the window open and a fucking camera with this
crazy lens on it. What the hell? I didn’t put it together, but that window looks right in here.” Her voice turns hard.
Heather bounces up off the bed and practically runs to the window.
“Little motherfucker! He’s coming in the front door now. That’s enough of this shit. Creepy, I can handle. Hell, I can even give it a little respect, but he’s crossed the line.”
A knock pounds on the door.
“No, don’t.” I’m up and behind her as she makes it to the front door of our apartment, swinging the door open, ready to go postal on Ricky. “Holy shit.”
I drop the pint of ice cream, and Heather freezes in mid-attack.
Rueger is standing there, looking perfect in a black suit. His crisp white shirt contrasts with the orange and red striped tie.
No one else could wear that tie and look so amazing.
Only my Daddy.