be sidetracked by waiting for attention I don’t need from a man I’ll never have and a life that’ll never be mine.
I’m a whore, and to pretend anything different is absurd.
Dog is on my heels as I head back to the bedroom to find the phone plugged into the charger beside my bed. My stomach plummets to my feet when I see there’s a missed call and text from Talent, and I hesitate before pulling the phone free from the cord. Without checking the message, I delete the text thread and his contact information. My plan is to snap the phone in two when there’s a knock on my door.
By the way dread stops me in my tracks and fills me up like an over poured glass, I know it’s Inez. No doubt she’s heard about what happened at the art gallery and is here for my head. She’s in charge of a lot of girls, but she doesn’t bear embarrassment without consequence and I can’t think of a time when one of her charges puked on a client. I’m surprised it’s taken her this long to arrive.
“You look like shit,” she says as soon as I open the door.
Taking a step back, I motion for her to come inside. I’d rather my neighbors not witness the berating I’m certain to face from a hot-tempered Italian. She may be small, but her anger is mighty. And loud.
“Are you sick?” Inez asks as she passes. To my surprise, there’s room for understanding in her tone. “I’ll admit, I’m not happy Gary Brooker called me before you did. I don’t like to be caught off guard. These things are easier to handle when I know what to expect.”
I kick the door closed with my foot before making myself comfortable on the hardest couch ever made. The worst of this hangover is behind me, but the emptiness in my stomach is unnerving and fatigue has yet to settle. Falling back to sleep would be a breeze if Inez weren’t in my living room, yet again, ready to pounce.
“Lucky for us, I’m a good actress and Gary doesn’t know that my favorite girl didn’t confide in me first.” Inez places the palm of her hand against my forehead and then my cheek affectionately, motherly. “You’re not warm. Is it a stomach bug? Should I phone a doctor?”
Her cool hand soothes my tepid skin, and I press into it for a moment longer before saying, “I went out last night and had too much to drink.”
She snatches her hand back and crosses her arms over her chest like a disappointed parent. “For fuck’s sake, Lydia. That’s not like you.”
I close my eyes and rub the throbbing at my temples and say. “Trust me, I know. It won’t happen again. I’ll call Gary in the morning and do what I can to right this wrong. If he doesn’t want to see me again, you can refer him to someone else.”
Inez takes a seat beside me and pats my thigh. She chuckles. “He made it clear he’s considering moving to a whole new building. That man is dramatic.”
“You’re not upset?” I ask. Sympathy isn’t something I seek out, but Inez is the only person in my life able to give it to me. After the emotional hurricane I’ve experienced today, there’s not much more I want than for her to tell me it’s going to be okay.
Except for Talent to tell me it’s going to be okay himself.
But that’s out of the question.
“You’re so perfect, I often forget you’re human.” Inez softens at my side and sighs, dropping her shoulders like she’s unloading the weight of the world. “The other girls are needy and problematic. I oftentimes feel more like a babysitter than a boss. I’m not mad at you, but I find it necessary to say that communication is important.”
“I understand,” I say.
Dog leaps onto the couch at my other side. Our time together has been short, but he’s learning that he’s better tolerated from a distance and I need space if this arrangement is going to work out. If only Inez and Talent would catch on as quickly as Dog has, I may not be drowning in suppressed drama.
“Are you aware there’s an animal in your apartment?” Inez asks. She curls her lip and scrunches her nose, leaning away like she might die if Dog comes any closer. “Get rid of it.”
“I tried,” I answer honestly, side-eyeing the dog. Not since the afternoon Dog Mom