Page 25 of Unmasking Love
“¡Hola Carlos!” Harper sings out. “Muchas margaritas por favor.”
“¡Si, si, señora!” Carlos replies and he goes to busy himself with her order.
“How did you find this place?” I ask, trying to hide my judgment but not really succeeding.
“I used to live right across the street.” I look out of the dirty window at an equally decrepit looking building. It is a far cry from where I’d expect the polished woman across from me to live. “Back before I found this job. I worked at a country club. Most of my money came from tips and so on particularly good days I’d take a break from the shift meal or ramen at home and treat myself to a plate of chicken fajitas. I didn’t have the margaritas until I was fired from that job and I came in here crying. Carlos felt bad for me.”
She shrugs but I wait for the answer to the many unanswered questions. I want to know why she was fired. I want to know why she was working at a country club. I want to know which country club so I can make sure I never join it.
Not that I’m the type.
Carlos arrives with a pitcher and two glasses. I shake my head but he sets it down in front of me anyways. Harper starts to pour for herself when the door swings open and the late afternoon sunshine floods the room.
“Never fear, Wes is here!” Her friend calls as he crosses to our table. “Hi Aiden, good to see you again.” He turns to Harper. “So wait, you caught Crispin getting head from his secretary?”
“Personal assistant.” Harper corrects with a finger wag.
“I’ll say,” Wes concedes as he pulls up a chair to our tiny, and sticky, table. “Where were you when you caught him?” Wes turns to me. “Did you see everything?”
I nod.
He leans in closer, “everything?”
I nod again.
“Was he impressive?”
I shake my head. That lanky fucker was average at best. The type of average I’m sure he felt was exceptional. I honestly take more than a little joy in knowing how completely un-impressive douche-bag Crispin’s junk is.
Wes turns to Harper. “You never confirmed he had a pencil dick but I just got it from Aiden. And considering he has the privilege of working in a professional locker room with what I can only imagine is a collection ofveryimpressive specimens, I will trust his judgment completely. And I’m mad at you for holding out on me.”
“Hey! I’m the victim here.” Harper cries.
“Are you though? You pawned off skinny peen Crispin on his secretary. This is perfect for you.”
“I’m failing to see how getting cheated on is perfect for me.” Harper says and I watch the two of them exchange these rapid eye flicks and nods.
Harper finally breaks eye contact first and chugs her margarita. When it’s empty, I follow her tongue as she licks the salt off the rim of her glass. Wes takes a sip and glares at her. I’m in awe of the conversation they’ve been able to have without exchanging words. I’ve never been that close to someone. The best I can do is get to know the way my defensemen skate so I can track the puck more efficiently.
“You know what makes me the most mad about this?” Harper says. Okay, here comes the emotional breakdown I’ve been expecting. She’s just a little delayed. That’s fine, it can take time for people to process traumatic events. “That house was freaking perfect for you!” She exclaims and throws both arms in my direction.
“Me?” I ask to clarify because, how is she thinking about me, right now?
“Yes! It had everything. The eco optimized appliances. The solar panels. It even had a tankless water heater for each bathroom so if it isn’t used everyday then you don’t have to run it. I spent hours reading up on this and it’s fascinating.”
“You spent hours researching tankless water heaters?” Wes asks.
“Yep, once I saw the property had seven water heaters I was confused and looked into it. They installed them at key points, laundry, kitchen, and each full bathroom. It must have been a huge investment at the time but they’re only 5 years old so there is still plenty of life left in them.”
“There were four full bathrooms in the house?” I ask.
“Yes, the primary and then the remaining six bedrooms all shared one jack-and-jill style.”
“That was a seven bedroom home?” I ask, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.
“I know it was too big but I figured the eco-friendly features would overshadow that.”
“I’d like to go back to something you said,” Wes says as he fills up her glass again. “You said, and I’m paraphrasing here, you’re most upset because Aiden would have bought that house?”
