Page 10 of Beautiful Disaster

Hardin

There had been no calls or texts from Desiree in days. Even at work, she raced out of the studio after her show and ran past me like I was invisible. I, for the life of me, can’t think what I have done wrong. This fake relationship was turning into a non-existent relationship period.

I stood by Millie’s desk, who had no idea I was even there as her music was so loud I could hear blasting White Stripes through her cheap earbuds. Her head was bobbing, her keyboard was being used as a drum set as she banged them with pens. If this girl were my secretary, I would have had her fired a long time ago. “Hey, Millie!” I called to no avail and tried again. I walked around the cubicle and ripped the earbud from her ear.

“Don’t ever sneak up on a girl like that!” She cried, appearing annoyed that I interrupted her jam session.

“You know you’re getting paid to do work for Desiree, not to play around.” I shook my head at the open bags of junk food on her desk and empty cans of energy drink in her wastebasket. No wonder she was so freaking hyper, energy drinks were like speed to this worthless secretary. Don’t get me wrong, Millie was a sweetheart and made me laugh, but I wasn’t in a joking mood. I glanced at her monitor. “YouTube must keep you really busy, ay?”

“I guess it’s a good thing you're not my boss,” she smirked at me.

“I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t THE boss, or you’d be stepping into his office. Where’s Desiree? I think she’s blowing me off,” I asked, looking into Desiree’s office to see the door shut and the lights off.

“She took the rest of the day off after her show. She needed sabbatical time off. That’s what she told me,” Millie told me and followed with a noncommittal shrug, with that same immature smirk as she was keeping something from me.

“Is it because of me?”

“I’m sure it is. Although, she doesn’t tell me much. What did you do to her?” Why was it always the man that is at fault for whatever happens in any relationship, fake or not?

“I didn’t do anything to her. But of course, anyone who belongs in the She-Woman-Man-Haters-Club is going to see it altogether differently, aren’t they?” I stormed toward the elevators until Millie called my name.

“Hardin, come here. I have one question to ask you,” she asked, as I circled slowly and approached her desk. “How do you really feel about her? Or is this a game to you?”

“That was two questions, and I am not at liberty to answer either of those. I’d rather speak to Desiree and give her the answers to your invasive questions.”

Fourteen

Desiree

That evening

I raced to the door, expecting the incessant pounding was my Door Dash person delivering my Thai food. However, much to my chagrin, it was Hardin wearing some beat-up T-shirt I found exhilaratingly hot even with his nerdy, crooked smile. He was sweaty from what he called a grueling workout. I couldn’t help myself and scanned his body.

“Hello Desi, you look hot tonight.” I was wearing an old faded INXS T-shirt and yoga pants, so I begged to differ. I didn’t speak a word to him and opened the door all the way, inviting him in without saying anything. “What’s with the cold shoulder routine?” Before he could close the door, it was stopped by Door Dash, “Did you order food?” Hardin asked.

“Yes and yes. There is enough if you want to dine with me. Hopefully, you like Thai food. I was craving it.” I walked around Hardin and took my delivery, thanking the young man. “Want a beer?” I yelled out, heading to the refrigerator. It was my way of trying not to look in his direction as my heart was telling me to tear his clothes off, yet my mind was telling me, no —don’t even think about it.

“Before we eat, do you mind if I take a shower?” he asked and the bottles of beer thatnearly slipped out of my hands were placed on the counter to avoid making a holy hell of a mess all over the kitchen floor. I couldn’t fathom the smell of beer lingering for days. It would be nauseating.

“Yeah, I do mind. You have your own apartment that you can shower in,” Flustered, I leaned on the counter, with one hand resting on my hip and yelled, “what in the hell do you want, Hardin?”

He leaned over the counter and took a bottle of beer before he made himself comfortable on my couch. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I came over here with concern.”

“With concern for what? Your ratings are through the roof, and you’ve beaten me this month. Our fake ass relationship worked to your benefit, and you should be proud,” I told him with no emotion in my voice, holding back what I truly wanted to say. “After you finish your beer, you need to leave,” I mumbled, fighting to hold back the waterworks that were about ready to burst. I half expected him to stand up in a huff and storm out; it was typical of any man I broke up with.

But Hardin cautiously walked behind the counter and embraced me. Of course, I reciprocated, although taken aback at first.

“I appreciate the boost in ratings, but I thought there were some sparks between us that went beyond just being co-workers,” he pulled back from the embrace and wiped my tears away with the backs of his thumbs. With a smile and arched brow, he asked, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

I shook my head at his question.

“You really don’t want me to leave, do you?”

I shook my head again and laughed through the tears. What I wanted was to make love to him, but there was no way I was even going to be brazen enough to mention that to him. “There is a lot of food I can’t eat by myself,” I continued laughing, “and regarding that shower?”

“Yeah?” he cupped my cheeks despite that they were drenched with my tears.

“You can use my shower, you’re a bit ripe.” We both laughed and he kissed my forehead before he rushed out the door to get his bag out of his car. “Desiree, you need to tell him how you feel. What have you got to lose? If he doesn’t feel the same, you can break off the arrangement and move on with your life.”

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