Page 38 of Truth
My whole body is revved up, and I need to expend this energy. My eyes drift over to my laptop, and I squeeze them shut. No way in hell. I’m breaking this little habit of mine. Instead, I throw on my workout clothes and some sneakers and head out to a late-night gym to run off my sexual frustration.
When I get back home, it’s a little past ten and I’m spent. I don’t even bother to shower. Instead, I crawl into my bed after toeing off my shoes and let myself drift to sleep.
My alarm jolts me awake, and I shoot out of bed, remembering I need to shower from my sweaty mess last night. I run the water and check my early-morning messages, sending back a few texts before I jump in. The water feels like silk, and I let it wash over my face like a baptism. This is a baptism; I’m renewed in my belief. The belief that I will not think about Dominic King, today or ever again. Today, I’m really letting him go.
I wash, rinse, and dry off. Wrapping a towel around my head, I get to the business of my makeup because today I am going to look good. I’m a brand-new me, and I am going to be open to everything the universe brings my way. Shaking my hair loose, I blow-dry, allowing my natural waves to set and cascade down my back. I highlight my eyes with a black mascara and apply a gorgeous perfect red stain to my lips. I feel like a glamorous French actress with doe eyes and just enough pout to be adorable and sexy.
Looking at my phone, I only have twenty minutes to put some clothes on and hightail it out of my place, so I hustle into my closet to grab my favorite all-white shirt dress. It’s silk and clings to my body in the most perfect way, accentuating my curves. I wrap a long, printed scarf around my waist as a belt, then throw on my strappy Louboutins and head for my door, phone in hand, stopping only to grab my clutch and keys.
Thank god for my sunnies because the daylight is jarring as I exit my building to hail a cab. No need to take my car today since Gretchen is picking me up. Jumping in, I give him the building address, and we head downtown and make small talk. At least we try because I’m taken away from conversation with emails I need to return. Even though my office is close by, I give the cabbie a twenty, no change needed, and make my way up.
Every time I walk into this building, I fall in love more with its sleek glass walls and iron beaming that accentuate the curves of the architecture like some kind of iron maiden. She’s a beautiful place to be every day. I work on the top floor; our space is shared only with a law firm on the opposite side. I take the elevators up to the fortieth floor and nod to the front desk girl as I make my way through the cubicles.
Rounding a corner, I see Boyd already sitting at the desk that precedes my office. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ms. Matthews. Your coffee is on your desk, and I’m sorry, but Ms. Andrews was here earlier…she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
My face scrunches in confusion as I walk past him and open my door.
Cats.
That’s all I see on my desk. Fucking bobblehead cats. At least twenty are scattered along my desk, all set out and looking at me with their big eyes and black frames, the kind reserved for Chinese restaurants and gift stores.
Fucking Gretchen! I drop my head down and laugh. I’m officially a cat lady.
Walking back out to Boyd’s desk, I raise an eyebrow for explanation.
“She said you were really into cats and she was trying to surprise you with the figurines. I’ve learned that Ms. Andrews always has a plan and I am not, repeat not, allowed to derail that plan.”
I try not to laugh because her antics are insane. I feel bad for Boyd but worse for me because I’m stuck with her. “Ah, I see…and she came by earlier to set this up?”
“Yes.” His face is worried.
“Great. Do me a favor: call around and regift these pussies?”
“Will do, Ms. Matthews.” He only gives a hint of a smirk, but that’s a lot for Boyd.
I walk back into my office and work vigorously to finish my morning tasks so that I can meet Gretchen and have my lion’s share of mimosas. All on her. My phone dings, calling my attention to the screen.
Gretchen: You ready yet? Helllooo? Cat got your tongue?
I pocket a cat, walk out of my office, and give a nod to Boyd. “Hey, have fun tonight with your parents. Congrats to your father’s retirement. Order a bottle of champagne on me tonight.”
“Wow, thank you, Ms. Matthews.”
Smiling, I leave as he walks by me to rid my office of Gretchen’s joke.
Taking the elevators down, I have the cat in hand as I walk toward the town car Gretchen has waiting out front.
“Really? You are such a B!” Her laugh is maniacal as I toss the kitty at her.
“You love me.” Catching it, she blows kisses at me and sinks into the back of the town car.
“Message received and unappreciated by the way. I’m not going to become some crazy cat lady just because I’m passing on King,” I argue, following her into the car.
“Loosen up, cat lady. I’m not the one down on love.” She puts the cat back in my lap.
“I’m not down, just realistic. It’s been too long. I don’t know how…I just need to move on, G.” My fingers fumble with the little bobblehead to distract me from my regret.
