“The movie star?” She wrings her apron in her hands, looking nervous. She takes a step back as I approach her. “I mean, Senor, I’ve seen a few of his movies, so I suppose I know who he is.”
“That wasn’t my question. I asked whether you like him. Hell, better yet, do you think he’s attractive?”
“Well, I suppose he’s rather good looking,” she answers in a timid voice. The middle-aged woman is starting to look really scared now, and I force myself to straighten once more.
“No, it’s fine but I just want to make things clear,” I laugh. “With all his good looks, that guy is nothing more than dog shit. Just clearing the air, and speaking truth,” I say airily before leaving the kitchen and stumbling into my bedroom.
Man, I must be so drunk but jealousy has its hold on me. My eyes are probably green, and turning into hardened jade by the moment. I don’t bother to check because I’m pissed. This guy has no right to Katie. Maybe I don’t either, but I’m not going to stand around and let him get all touchy-feely with her on live television. It makes me want to vomit. And don’t even get me started on that smirk. I’ll be sure to wipe it off of his goddamn face when I see him.
The alcohol hits me. I feel unsteady on my feet, which causes me to stumble onto my bed. I fall onto my back like a sack of potatoes and stare at the ceiling blankly.
“God, I miss you, Katie,” I say. “Do you miss me?” I pray that she’ll answer me. I pray that she’ll materialize in my room and this nightmare will be done and over with, but of course, I’m only answered by oppressive silence.
“Don’t you get it?” I continue talking to myself. “I love you. I’m in love you. Not the fake movie stuff. The real deal.” I can’t hide my feelings any longer. This jealousy has made it goddamn obvious that I care about that girl. And yet is it fair that my feelings only came to light after all this happened? I guess you never know what you have until it’s gone. The irony makes me nauseous, even as I continue to stare at the ceiling.
Plus, I’m not sure I should really go through with this plan. It’s sneaky and underhanded because Katie’s been adamant about protecting her anonymity. She doesn’t want to be known as the girl who sells her panties online. Who would want that? She’d have every creep in the city knocking on her front door, not to mention the papers blasting her name from the headlines.
For a moment, I reconsider my actions. Maybe I’m taking this too far. After all, Katie has the right to be with whomever she wants to be with, and I messed things up. Maybe I deserve this.
No. Fuck that.
The ball’s already rolling, and I can’t stop it now. My brain is a confused mess, and one way or another, I’ll get her back. Even if it means pissing her off first.
After all, I’m just doing what needs to be done to get her back, right? And isn’t all fair in love and war, even if it hurts? My mind spins with the clichés, but somehow, I know that what’s lurking in the future is going to blow up like a nuclear bomb.
17
Katie
Never in a million years did I think this would happen. I scurry around my bedroom, trying to find a pair of earrings that will match the dress I’m wearing. Passing the mirror, I catch a glimpse of my reflection, which makes me pause dead in my tracks.
Is this dress good enough? I mean, I’m going out on a date with Tom Benning – the Tom Benning – Hollywood superstar and man about town. I have to make a good impression, to put it lightly. Otherwise, I’ll just be humiliated for the rest of my life.
Okay, breathe, Katie, it’ll be fine, I try to tell myself as I smooth the wrinkles from my dress. After all, you already blurted you loved him during your first meeting! What could be worse than that?
That’s true. We’re starting from an extremely low point, so I guess there isn’t anywhere to but up. Suddenly, the grandfather clock in the living room chimes and I jolt back into motion.
Crap!
He’s going to be here any minute now!
I rush for my jewelry box, sorting through the mess and praying for a miracle. Where are my opal earrings?
As I fumble through my chains and bracelets, I recall our very auspicious second encounter. It went so much better than the first that my breath was taken away.
It is just a normal day. Well, when I say normal, I mean the normal that applies now that I live in Los Angeles and make six figures a year. I’m a zombie and still reeling from my shock of the break-up, but a girl still has to pay her bills.
