Page 2 of Holiday Hater

Bourbon City at night isn’t quite as loud as it is during the day, but it’s not silent. You can hear the steady hum and heartbeat of the city when you stop and listen. However, despite that, it’s still relaxing listening to it blend to the sound of the water in the pool splashing as I use the net to sift out stray bugs. The job won’t take me but an hour tonight; however, tomorrow I’ll have to drain it and clean it and leave it to refill for the morning.

“I’m fine. You’re worrying about nothing… I swear… Whatever…”

The voice makes me jump as the owner steps out a set of French doors, her laptop under her arm, pen behind her ear, and phone clutched between her ear and shoulder. I glance at my watch. I guess I’m not the only one burning the midnight oil.

“I think I can tolerate that.” She laughs and I’m instantly reminded of the Tinkerbell cartoon my friends’ kids watch because it reminds me of the sound of a jingling bell. However, it’s not annoying, it’s pretty. Delicate. “Bye.” She discards the phone on the table outside her door, not hesitating to set up and sit at her laptop. Is she working? Who would be so eager to work at this time of the night? Maybe she’s going to do something naughty? As if I’d be that lucky. Even in the dim light I can her stunningly petite facial features. She’s beautiful.

I continue sifting out the water, unaware of whether or not I’m successfully picking out the bits that shouldn’t be in there. What do I do if I suddenly hear porn? Besides get deliriously excited. You’re not going to be that lucky. Surely if she was going to do something like that, it would be inside her apartment, unless she has a man inside?

I wait for the boyfriend or husband to step out from inside as well, but it stays silent other than the sound of my net and the click of her nails on the keyboard of her laptop. I’m not a stranger to hard work but after starting work at six o’clock this morning, I’m feeling the tiredness setting in around my eyes as a persistent weight that wants my eyes to shut. She, however, seems to only become more energized as she takes sips from a bottle of beer.

I can’t help but take more interest than I should. She wouldn’t want to take a second look at me if she saw me in the street. She’s a little bit older and either living off inheritance or someone who works extremely hard. Sadly, it can be hard to tell which one is the truth nowadays. Especially when they live in places like this. She looks too young to be self-made. Surely a rich sugar daddy is involved. The way she looks at the laptop with such concentration makes me more hopeful for the less than likely. Women who live off inheritance or daddy’s money and expect to freeload their entire life aren’t women I want to be around. I can’t stand those type of mentalities, where hard work is seen as too much trouble.

Realizing I’m staring, it’s surprising that she hasn’t said anything or given me the look that is the physical equivalent of ‘fuck off.’ The earbuds now in her ears make me wonder if she realizes I’m here.

She starts to dance in her seat in excitement to music I can’t hear. I’m a prisoner. I can’t look away as she rolls her hips in her seat and moves her arms in a way that makes it impossible not to notice her body. Curvy doesn’t do her justice; she’s all boobs and booty. Her simple white vest does little to contain them as they fight against the containment of her bra as she dances.

“Tell me why you wanna be bad, babe. Sweating, while you callin' me daddy.” Her face is euphoric as she sings along to Jacquees’ “Feel It.” I can’t blame her; that song is a classic. “Back that ass upon me like I'm Juvie,'Bout nothing but action in this movie.” Her hands wind into her hair as she starts grinding in her chair. Holy shit. I should not be watching her like this.

I’m not aware I’m still sifting at the water until I lose my balance. The water fights against the resistance of the net, throwing me off-balance. I put my foot out to catch myself, only to find nothing there. My brain doesn’t have time to process falling as her singing is muted by the loud gush of water filling my ears. The water is warm, but it doesn’t take away from the shock as I break the surface. I grab hold of the side of the pool, coughing up the pool water I inhaled in surprise.

My eyes find her as my head clears the side of the pool while I lift myself out. My sodden clothes make my body heavier than normal. “You’ve got to be fucking with me.” She must be. There’s no way she didn’t notice me fall in. She’s acting. She continues to stare at her laptop, having gone back to typing, seemingly oblivious to me falling into the pool.

I watch her, my legs still dangling over the edge of the pool, expecting her to look at me, but when she stubbornly continues to use her laptop, I lose my patience. Soaking wet clothes is a whole new level of uncomfortable.

Maybe her ignoring me is a blessing. Do I really want to own up to her making me fall in the pool? I don’t exactly have a bad excuse considering she was basically dry humping her chair.

I look at the puddle of water from the spray of my misstep into the water. Fantastic. I’m going to need to mop that up.

I reach behind my head, pulling on the neck of my t-shirt. I can’t exactly clean the water up while still dripping it everywhere. I drop the shirt on the floor with a wet splat. I look up to find her staring back at me, gaping with what looks like genuine surprise. Before I can open my mouth to say something, she’s picks up her laptop one-handed and scrambles inside her door, adjusting the shades shut.

Chapter Three - Silvia?

My heart feels as though it’s going to beat out of my chest as I think about last night. I don’t even know what happened. I didn’t even realize he was there until I looked up to see him stripping off his shirt. I’m far from being a horn dog but the sight of him peeling off his soaking wet shirt to reveal cheese grater abs, I think creamed on the spot. He looked like a real-life book boyfriend.

“Silvi!” Deja waves at me, glancing from me to Blair who’s sitting at the counter with her laptop and coffee.

If she’s trying to make me jump, she fails. She only succeeds in ruining my perfect concentration on trying to remember last night’s every detail. I’m quite confident that he’s the new pool cleaner. I don’t think someone who isn’t there to work is going to get the mop and bucket out to clean up the water that was obviously all over the floor from him falling in. The question I’m not sure I want the answer to is, was he watching me dance? I shouldn’t have been behaving like that outside my apartment for anyone to see. Although I didn’t realize he would be there. Normally it’s empty when I sit down there at night.

“What?” I reach for a glass and take a can of pop out of the fridge, taking my time to pour it into the glass.

“What’s got you so preoccupied?”

“Something bad happened last night.” I don’t even know where to begin explaining it to them. Will they even see it as bad?

“What?” Blair’s concern is instant, her shoulders squaring, ready to take on whatever it is I tell her.

I relay what happened, waiting for a reaction from them as I stand clutching my lemonade-filled glass to my chest.

Blair is the first one to break, sniggering as she leans back on her stool. “You’re traumatized by some abs?”

My cheeks heat up. I’m going to have to tell them the utmost truth for them to understand. “He must have been watching me and I was grinding… on the chair.” I cringe at the thought of what he must have thought watching me. What is wrong with me? I’m a mother for God’s sake!

“So he fell in the pool because he was too busy watching you dirty dance to watch where he was walking?” Deja asks, she tries to look somewhat serious but it’s an awful fail when she glances at Blair and they both fall into uncontrollable giggles.

“This isn’t funny!” My brain jumps to the sight of him standing there in shorts, shirtless, with the look of annoyance on his face. I haven’t seen anything like that since Lila was born and felt something like I did last night. He made me lust for the first time in what is close to eight years. “I haven’t felt… aroused… since before I was pregnant with Lila. He made me horny!” I can feel myself going into a complete daydream just thinking back to how his shirt peeled off his body.

Blair’s carefree giggle freezes as she mindlessly adjusts her blond curls. “You mean to tell me you haven’t felt horny since actually having Lila.” Her face sobers to dead serious when she realizes what she asks.

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