Page 24 of So Wrong, It's Wright
“Six weeks and four days,” I say, pressing my lips together as I play with the loose sequin on a gawdy looking 80s dress.
“Plus seven hours, forty-eight minutes, and twenty-two seconds,” Darren says with a smirk. I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.
“I'm not that bad.” I pull a red boa from the rack and wrap it around my shoulders, posing and pouting when Darren pulls out his phone and snaps a couple of pictures.
“But you've gotitbad,” he says, turning his phone around so I can see the shots before he sends them off to his Instagram story. Every moment is a snappable hustle when you're Coco Monroe.
“I do.” I sigh. “And I miss him too. We talk to each other all the time, but...”
“I'll bet it's just talking,” Darren says with a chuckle. I tap him on the arm playfully.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Coco. We do have a modicum of control. We talk just as much as we do...other things,I’ll have you know. But I just really want to see him in person. You know, reach out and touch warm skin instead of a computer screen. When he spent the entire weekend at my place after Bradley’s christening, we did a lot of talking and cuddling up on the couch and just being together. I felt so connected to him, and with him so far away.” I press my lips together and shrug. “It’s just hard.”
As much as I love every moment I get to spend with Ash online, seeing him through my phone or laptop leaves me wanting. We entered into this relationship knowing it was going to be difficult due to the distance involved, but I kind of thought we’d see each other every couple of weeks, or even once a month. But with six weeks passing and no physical contact, I’m starting to have real feelings for my full-body pillow since I’m falling asleep with that every night instead of Ash.
I know none of this is his fault, and I don’t hold any sort of grudge or disappointment toward him. I just wish things were a little easier is all. I’ve never felt so connected to another human being, and it’s just my luck that the man I fall for is a man I can barely have.
“Can’tyoujust go and seehim?” Darren asks, pulling the boa from my neck and putting it back on the rack.
“Well, he’s working all weekend, and on top of that, money is an obstacle,” I pout, following him to the register. “I’ve actually been thinking about getting a second job just for the sake of buying plane tickets, but besides journalism, I don’t have any other skills, and there are only so many hours in a day. You know, I asked Andy if his Starbucks was hiring, but they don’t have any positions right now, and if they did, he’d want me for weekends. And since that’s when I want to be seeing Ash, that just leaves me right where I am now. Broke and lonely, saving pennies in the hopes I’ll get down there soon.”
“There are more jobs that can be done after hours, you know,” Darren says, handing over the cash and thanking the cashier before we head out into the street.
“For the last time, I’m not being a stripper,” I say, shaking my head and laughing. Stripping seems to be Darren’s answer toeverything. Which is understandable since before he became a drag queen, he was an exotic dancer.
“Shame. You’d be able to hire a private plane on the kind of money a natural redhead could make giving private showings.”
“And considering I’d be making this money to go and visit myboyfriend, I can’t imagine he’d be particularly on board with that method of fundraising.”
“Possessive, huh?”
I glance at him and smile. “Mildly.”
“Hot.” Darren laughs, then slips his arm in mine, directing me to the nearest coffee shop.
“Tell you what,” he says as we get inside and join the line. “How about I give you an early birthday present? I’ll buy you a ticket to Atlanta so you can get your freak on in person with big boy Ash next weekend, and in the meantime, I’ll also put out some feelers for night shift work that doesn’t involve getting naked. I have a cousin who runs a bar in the financial district. He gets the Wall Street crowd in there buying overpriced cocktails and craft beer. So if he has any available work, I can ask him to give you a chance. The pay is shit but the tips are decent, so maybe you’ll have enough for a ticket a month on top of your normal wage.”
“Really?” I gasp, turning to him with a massive grin on my face. “You are my savior! That would be amazing, Darren. Thank you.” I move to hug him, but he holds his hand up. Not one for overly big displays of affection.
“It’s no trouble. Besides, Banks is always saying good help is hard to come by, so if I vouch for you, you’ll be helping him out. And I suppose it makes me feel better to know you’ll be working somewhere thatI knowis going to take care of you—which is another reason stripping is a great opportunity. The decent places walk you out and make sure you get into a cab safely.”
“Darren,” I say, pressing my lips together.
He holds up his bejeweled hands. “I know, I know—no stripping. But I would like it if people would see it more for the opportunity it is over putting shame on those who are bold enough to dare. Coco wouldn’t have got off the ground if it wasn't for the strip clubs funding her. They serve a purpose.”
Reaching out, I place a hand on his chest and give him an understanding smile. “I agree with you, Darren. I really do. It's just not something that I personally feel comfortable with. Not to mention I would probably murder myself walking around in those spiked heels they wear. I couldn't even wear your shoes without falling over and breaking something. So I think bar work is probably my safest bet.” I lift up on my toes and press a fast kiss on his cheek before he can deflect me. “I love that you care about me so much though.”
He purses his lips and rolls his eyes slightly. “If you tell anyone, I'll deny it all.”
I smile. “I will never tell a soul. Your soft squishy heart secret is safe with me.”
ASH
“Hey tiny,” I say, touching my fingertip to the computer screen as her smiling face appears.
“Hi big guy,” she says, the picture losing focus as she adjusts and lies on the bed, the muffled sound of sheets filling the mic before the focus is back and she’s lying on her pillow, her auburn waves draped over her shoulder. “Tell me about your day. Looks like you’re still at work.”
I look over my shoulder at the lab like it’s news to me, then offer her a half-smile. “Ever since they moved the deadline up, it seems like I live here.” We’ve been working on fine tuning the calibration technique for our prosthetic foot, and it’s meant analyzing reams of data and writing up findings. And so my lab partner can still spend time with her kid most nights, I’m putting in the extra overtime so we make the deadline. Normally, I’m happy to do it. But now that I have Tahlia, it’s really getting in the way. I just want to hold her in my arms, touch her, and taste her. By the time I see her again, it’ll be over two months since the last time, and that just feels too long. I want to see her yesterday.
