Page 16 of Dirty Little Secret, Baby
Alex walks back toward the counter. My heart is racing. I avoid his gaze, open the cash register, and put the hundred-dollar bill inside.
"Here’s your change," I say, handing him several bills with trembling hands.
"But I said..."
"I don't want anything from you. Nothing at all," I snap, and only as the words leave my mouth do I feel the white-hot anger completely flood over me. I clench my free hand into a fist, and my face is probably tomato-red.
Does he think a tip makes up for how he treated me? Is he just going to pretend nothing happened? He hasn't even apologized since he got here, instead just striding through the world as self-assured as ever, as if he owns it and...
...damn it, why does he have to be so handsome?
And why am I thinking that right now? Haven't I suffered enough? I try to imagine him screwing his assistant as thanks right after I left, that busty monster he surely only hired for that reason. I bet the two of them had a good laugh about me.
"Beth, about that night," he begins and pauses. Is he pretending this is hard for him? Is anything about him not an act? "I'm really sorry, I..."
I look up. Is he actually going to apologize now? But why? And how did he find me after all this time? What brings him here anyway?
"I don't think I want to talk to you," I interrupt, but my voice sounds softer, and I feel my knees shaking.
"I can understand that, it must have seemed like..."
"Beth, you have to come. It's..." Veronica rushes down the stairs that lead directly from the apartment to my shop and freezes when she spots Alex.I gesture wildly, making a slicing motion at my neck, hoping she understands not to say anything about Ben. Not in front of him. We have an agreement in general that she should come up with an excuse to relieve me, so it doesn't seemto customers like I don't have my life, and by extension my shop, under control.
"...I dropped something," she finishes, then looks from me to Alex and back again. I almost have to grin because she's just such a terrible liar.
"I'm coming," I say, hearing Ben start to fuss upstairs. "Will you stay here for a bit?"
"I will," Veronica says. "Is he getting anything?" she asks, gesturing to Alex in front of the counter.
"He was just leaving. And he's never coming back. Right, Alex?" I ask, turning and rushing up the stairs to my child—to our child—who needs me, trying to suppress the tears and the anger.
"Alex?" Veronica asks behind me, but I don't turn around. The name means something to her; I've said it often enough, and she's surely seen his eyes and the resemblance to Ben.
"That's right, that's my name," I hear Alex's voice say. "I'll just come back another time, maybe we could have dinner then..." I hear him say.
"No, not ever," I shout down, slamming the door upstairs behind me. I go to Ben, take him in my arms, and let the tears flow freely. "Shhh, it's okay, my love. Mommy's here."
Chapter 6
Alex
That didn’t go the way I expected.
And even less did I expect to run into HER in that shop. What are the odds.
And yet: she’s so beautiful! Even more beautiful than I remembered. And that fire in her eyes. You’d think she was about to go for my throat. I like women with fire in their gaze, and the fire in Beth’s eyes seems to burn especially bright.
Honk honk hoooonk
"Hey, man, the light’s been green forever, you rich bastard in your Bentley," yells a New York cabbie behind me, sticking his arm out the window and gesturing wildly.
I shake my head, look at the light, and drive off. That unexpected reunion with Beth has me drifting into a daydream right in the middle of city traffic.
Okay, maybe I should face the truth: she hates me. And I can’t blame her, because a year ago it must have looked to her like I coldly dumped her. Jealous Dilara probably wasn’t especially kind to her when she escorted Beth out of the house. I only know her version, which said Beth stormed out. But I can’t and won’t ask Dilara anymore. It was way too long ago anyway; she probably remembers even fewer details than I do.
But why is the beautiful Beth—whose breasts looked even fuller—making such a fuss? Sure, I hurt her, but why turn down the dinner invitation? If that isn’t internationally recognized as an apologetic gesture, I don’t know what is.
Oh, those breasts...
