Page 2 of Edge of Desire

Melissa looked at me and I shrugged. I just wanted the creep out of here, so I decided to handle this. “You attacked me, you tiny piece of scum. Do you do this with every woman you date?”

“No, I swear I don’t!”

“Then why me and why did you hit me like that? I’ll tell you why. You’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a man, and I use that noun loosely. I should call the police!”

“Please don’t. I’ll lose my job if you do!”

“I don’t give a hoot about your damn job.” I thrummed my fingers against my chin as I stared him down. I should’ve punched him in the balls earlier, except I hadn’t given that a thought on account of I was too scared. “Tell you what, Mikey. Get out of here and don’t ever come back. If I ever hear that you even so much as breathed a word to anyone that you know me, these pics will be posted everywhere. And one other thing. If you ever attack another woman, I’ll twist your balls so tight, you’ll permanently be a soprano. You got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he promised.

Little Dickie scrambled out, wet britches and all, as fast as his feet could carry him. He didn’t even bother to stuff his teeny weenie in his pants, not that anyone would’ve noticed.

Melissa and I had a good laugh over it, but it freaked me out when I saw the ugly bruises he left behind. Tomorrow, they’d look horrendous. Melissa wasn’t too pleased with that, so she took it upon herself to start my sumo-wrestling training.

“Melissa, I’m leaving in three weeks. That’s not enough time.”

She elbowed me in the side and I fell to my knees.

“See, you need to get your strength up. You can’t handle any kind of normal roughness.” I didn’t know what normal roughness was. I had three brothers and they never used normal roughness on me. They spoiled me and protected me instead, so I didn’t have to use any kind of roughness at all.

“But, Melissa, I’m going to be so busy that I won’t have time for sumo-wrestling training.”

“Sure you will.”

There was no talking her out of it. That was how I found myself taking nightly trips to the gym for powerlifting sessions. She also put me on a daily consumption of large quantities of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, specifically, Chunky Monkey and Phish Food. Turned out Melissa wasn’t very impressed with my ability to pump iron. I could bench-press twenty pounds to her two hundred. I’d grit and gnash my teeth but the most I could do was thirty and maybe eke out four reps on a good day.

“We’re gonna have to get those arms in better shape. If you had a little strength in them, Little Dickie wouldn’t have stood a chance with you.”

I groaned and said, “I know. Don’t remind me. I’m trying to forget him. Everything in my life has gone to hell, Melissa.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My social life. My sex life. Heck, I don’t even know what sex is anymore. If Little Dickie hadn’t been such an asshole, who knows? Maybe I would’ve done it with him. I just couldn’t stand him though.”

Melissa grunted, murmuring something about even if I’d had sex with Mikey, I wouldn’t have noticed. She was probably right.

She patted me on the back, almost giving me a neck injury. “Listen, we’re gonna get you through this so you can get your confidence back. You just need a little weight on you. You’re nothing but a bag of bones, Ava. And maybe you should get yourself one of those vibrators. Don’t bother with the kind that need batteries. Go for the electrical ones. They pack a bigger punch.”

Good lord, that was the last thing I needed. An electric vibrator and more weight. I jiggled enough as it was. I probably was my own personal vibrator. I could barely squeeze my rear end into any of my clothes. I was busting at the seams in my big clothes and had gone out and bought new things and those were already getting tight. Sumo wrestling, though. I didn’t want to hurt Melissa’s feelings, but that was not going to solve my problems. It would only add to them. Lately, I was resembling a duck when I walked. Even my brother had mentioned something the other day and he was such a kindhearted person. He wanted to know if I was having foot issues. I wasn’t following.

“Ava, you’re walking a bit funny. I was wondering if your feet are bothering you,” he explained.

“Good heavens, Pearce. I’ve gained a ton of weight and now I waddle. That’s what’s wrong with me. My feet are fine. They’re just not used to toting around all this excess baggage.”

He had the decency to blush and apologize. He patted my hand and asked, “Is everything okay? Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

“No. I’m fine,” I said glumly. He hugged me and we parted ways. He didn’t have time for me. He was busy with his life now. His wife, Lexi, had just announced she was three months pregnant, and they were redoing their house. They wanted to transform one of the guest rooms into a nursery and they were also interviewing nannies.

I pulled myself back to the issue at hand, which was my mom. There was no getting around it. She would have to be told about my new job and the sooner the better. Maybe I could take her out to dinner and tell her in a public place where she couldn’t make a scene. Nope, that wouldn’t work. She would still make a scene. I had waited a week already. I was so screwed.

Oh, to hell with it. Biting the bullet, I grabbed my purse and headed over to my parents’. They didn’t live but a couple of blocks from me, so I walked there like I always did. When I got to the driveway, I was glad to see both of their cars at home. Might as well get it over with.

Now I’m not trying to brag or anything, but my parents lived in a grand house on The Battery in Charleston, South Carolina. I was fortunate to have been born into a family of means.

Betty, my parents’ cook, was in the kitchen when I walked in, and she immediately tried to shove food into my mouth.

“I know you love to do this, but I’m trying to shed some of this weight I’ve gained. I need to get back into my clothes,” I protested.

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