Page 44 of Falling in Between
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Elijah James Banks. I type his name into trusty old Google, rolling my eyes because even his name is sexy. It’s bullshit if you askme.
Now, the question becomes whether or not to hitenter.
With the aid of the internet, everyone has the potential to be a stalker. But, trying to figure out what this man does for a living does not a stalkermake.
Itdoesn’t.
If I searched the phrase “Elijah Banks’ ex-lovers”, that would be over the line. But just trying to find his profession is totally acceptable. I hit the return key and the screen populates several articles.E.J. Banks secures New York building worth 10 million. Banks Properties buys three of New York’s most desired office location. Banks Properties worth an estimated 7 billiondollars.
I gasp—I audiblygasp.
What.
The.
Fuck!
Sevenbilliondollars. I never imagined that waspossible.
I Google the net worth of Elijah’s company. Wikipedia confirms the insane amount of money. I can’t even fathom a bank account with that many zeros. I skim several write-ups about his investment endeavors, but I’m unable to focus on anything except that the guy I watched beat off on a balcony is a multi-billionaire.
He doesn’t actthatdisgustingly rich—except for the having a chauffeur thing. I’d expect a man of his wealth to chain smoke Cuban cigars and have a hoity-toity laugh, not be carbon copies of statues in the Louvre. Wealthy men like that date Victoria’s Secret models. And with that thought, morbid curiosity gets the better of me. I go to Facebook and search—because trolling social media to see what his ex-girlfriends may look like is not as stalkerish as using Google to find pictures…But he doesn’t have a profile. Of course hewouldn’t.
I push away from the computer wondering what I’m doing.I have no business looking him up much less caring about what the women he dates look like.Oh my God—I cover my mouth with my hand, slowly shaking my head—I’m introuble.
That’s it. I can’t see himagain.
I pace my living room, dragging my hands through my hair over and over because I want to see him again. This isbad.
Ding-dong.
I jump at the unexpected chime of the doorbell. No one except Steph randomly shows up, so I’m fairly certain that must be her dropping in on her way back from hot yoga, but when I open the door, instead of a sweat-soaked Steph keeling over in my doorway, there’s a gangly teen with a backward baseball cap and a large bouquet of orange tiger lilies. “Are you MissWilliams?”
“Yes.”
He shoves the vase into my hands, then turns and heads down the hall without aword.
The exotic, spotted petals resemble satin. When I go to rub them between my fingers, I spy a small, white card lying hidden amongst the blossoms. I pluck it out and turn itover.
If a star fell every time you crossed my mind, I’m certain the night sky would beempty.
A warmth spreads through my chest and I smile. For the first time in twenty-five years I grin while thinking of the stars, and maybe that’s why my vision is blurring behind tears right now. Yeah, I’m inserioustrouble.
Simple actions and sweet words are the arrows Cupid uses to pierce a heart. And mine just gotharpooned.
_____
“Locked Out of Heaven”pumps through the speakers while Dani and I browse the clearance rack at Macy’s. Swearing, she yanks at the tangled hangers until she frees a cardinal-red, suit jacket and holds it against her. “What do you think? Tooloud?”
“I like it. It says confident, independentwoman.”
She turns toward one of the mirrored columns and deadpans at her reflection. “Your Honor.” Her voice drops an octave. “If you’ll turn your attention toward Exhibit A, you’ll see that Mr. Hood’s penis indeed measures a full eight inches, not seven as the defendant has so brazenly branded across their line of suction cup dildos.” She huffs, and I fight a laugh. “How did I get to this point in mylife?”
“You’re defending porn stars; I’m trying to convince my clients I can save their marriage even though I couldn’t save my own.” I shove a few dresses to the side of the rack. “Not that I wantedto.”
Dani snorts, tucking the jacket under her arm while she grabs the matching skirt. “Being an adult isoverrated.”
