Not So Model Home - By David James Page 0,60
for Ian. Darryn’s good qualities can get crushed by someone like Ian. After all, you don’t throw a lamb into a cage with a lion.”
“So what do you put in there instead?”
“A hyena,” she replied, finally letting go of my hand.
“Oh, so it’s back to David, Drake, and maybe Marcus, then?”
CHAPTER 25
Live Fast, Die Young, and Leave A Fashionably Dressed Corpse
I went out on the town that night. Again. After all, it was a Wednesday night . . . practically the weekend. I hit the usual places, all dressed up: Gucci two-pocket knit jacket, metallic tissue T-shirt, white linen stovepipe riding pants, and gold platform high-heel sandals. People didn’t normally dress like this in Palm Springs since we were officially a resort and dress here was pretty casual. But I didn’t want to blend in. I wanted people to see me. Notice me. And that wasn’t going to happen with me wearing a T-shirt saying, PALM SPRINGS, I LOVE YOU; Levi’s; and some flip-flops. Plus, the way I was dressed, when people asked me what I did for a living, I could honestly say I was on television and look the part.
At Aqua, I was having a conversation with three men whom I had passionately kissed in front of the other two, and still, they were vying for my affections. I was in the middle of telling a story about my television show when the worst person in the entire world walked into the bar: Jerry Hallander, the Palm Springs Police Detective of Homicide. The man was dangerous for me. I had the hots for him and he had them for me—an incendiary combination. I started wishing I had worn an old sweatshirt, striped jogging pants, and a dirty baseball cap with any shoes from Payless.
“Hi, Jerry!” I tried to exclaim, thinking that my excitement would cover up for my discomfort that of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the deserts, he walks into mine. I wanted him but was wracked with guilt about my feelings for Ken—even though we were only dating . . . a line I was getting tired of using to justify my dalliances. My three admirers gave up and drifted away, figuring that I had thrown them over.
“Amanda, what a surprise to see you here!”
And that’s how it started, with two people acting like there was no attraction between them. We chatted for a while, had a drink or two, tried not to acknowledge the growing heat that was making the cool evening seem stifling.
“So . . . ?” Jerry said in that way that only made things more uncomfortable.
“Yes . . . well . . .” I replied.
Jerry took a deep breath, then spit it all out. “Amanda, you’re an unbelievably attractive woman. Sexy, smart, Jesus!” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes, Jerry, I feel the same way,” I said, knowing that it would only be a matter of an hour and I would be in bed with this very attractive, sexy man.
“You’re attracted to me, I’m attracted to you. . . .”
“Yes, Jerry. Go on. . . .”
“I think we should . . .”
“Yes?”
He shook his head again vigorously, then was quiet for a minute. “Amanda, I can’t do this. Ken is a good friend, a colleague. And you’re dating him. If he ever found out that things got this far—even though we didn’t do anything—it would destroy my friendship with him. And I don’t think you want to betray him either. But you and I getting involved will not solve anything. In fact, it will only cloud the issue. I think the thing to do is for both of us to think again about what we’re after, and to consider those around us who might be affected by actions we choose. I have to go now.”
He took hold of my hand ever so gently and planted the tenderest kiss on my cheek, then walked out of the bar.
I wanted to cry. Was it because I was rejected? No, because I was acting like an asshole and it finally dawned on me as I saw my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. What had I become? I looked like a bimbo. A well-dressed one, but a horny woman craving attention from any male on two legs. Just then, my cell phone rang and I looked down at the caller’s name: Ken Becker. I wanted to answer, but I was too ashamed of myself, so I pocketed my phone, paid