A Little Bit of Crazy (Little Bits) (7 page)

     “Why does he want to meet me?”

     “Well according to Dave, Jacob was picked as the face of all your male shaving products for sensitive skin. He says he wants to speak to you about it first.”

     “Why is my assistant not telling me this? And how do you know this?”

     Ok, so Jacob Stone is… he’s gorgeous. He’s single, he’s the most sought out actor in the world. Everybody wants him, there’s a mob of women that follow him everywhere. Men want to be him! And he’s doing an advertisement for my company! AHHHHHH!

     “I know this because I’m screwing your head of advertising,” she giggles and I make a mental note to have a word with David Blake. “He says it took hardly any convincing at all as Jacob uses your products already. So for him it’s an honor.”

     “Holy hell, why couldn’t this have been decided before I got married.”

     “You are totally not going to screw him are you?” she snorts in disbelief. “So how are you and your husband?”

     How are we? How to explain… “I’m trying harder. He makes me feel… gah.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “Guilty. I feel damn guilty every time he is less than smiling.”

     “And that’s bad?”

     “Come on girl. You know me, the queen of freedom.”

     “Yeah but you practically grew up with James. You should care about his feelings. He’s still your friend and a good man.” She wags her eyebrows. “You sleep with him yet?”

     “Umm…”

     “God… you have! I’m so jealous! How is he? How big is he? Tell me everything.” So I do, as I always do. I give her a vivid description of our sexual encounters. “Please… threesome. I just want a taste of that man.” I ignore her and roll my eyes. “Does he know about Paul?”

     I splutter on my coffee and slam my fist against my own chest while frantically shaking his head. “No. And you should’ve seen his face when I told him I had sex a week before our wedding. Imagine if he finds out.”

     “Well girl, I aint gonna tell him.” Thank god for that. Bad subject for another time. A subject I’m not proud of now I’m married to James. Maybe I’ll tell you later.

     She leaves an hour later, we chat about Jacob, her most recent sexcapade’s and antics, more about married life. We put on a bet on whether or not I’ll screw Jacob. I won’t, I definitely won’t do that to James. No matter how badly I want to taste Jacob Stone. Nom, nom.

     As soon as she leaves I quickly get changed into a white dress with an empire waist that reaches mid-thigh, and pair it with some strappy white sandals and a little turquoise clutch purse and matching beads that hang loosely round my neck. I braid my hair and twist it up before lathering on a little sunblock.

     The bikini I’m wearing beneath is also white and leaves little to the imagination. I pack a bag full of towels and spare clothes and sun block and place it by the door. Now where is that husband of mine?

     I wait, and I wait, and I wait. It’s noon, hottest peak of the day today and to say I’m getting annoyed with waiting is an understatement. Yet I wait. And wait. My phone rings, I dart into the room and grab it from my clutch. It’s
Summer, I ignore the call getting more agitated by the minute and I have a bad habit of snapping at people I care about when I’m agitated. As my dad always taught me, if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all. For once I’m exercising this certain piece of advice.

     Do I call him? Yes I bloody do call him. It’s one in the afternoon. He should’ve been an hour.

     “Mr. Freeman’s office Carlson speaking.”

     “Carlson, could you put my husband on the phone please,” I snap. See what I mean. Snappy when angry.

     “Certainly. Just a sec,” the phone makes a beeping noise and rings twice.

     James’ frantic, panicked voice blasts through the speaker, “Fuck, Maya I’m so sorry I completely…”

     “Save it you asshole! Today was your idea, dammit, I could be out with Marie now but guess where I am. Sat at home on the couch covered in sticky sunblock checking my watch every two fucking minutes. Go fuck yourself!” and my thumb goes slam on the screen effectively cutting him off. I think that went well don’t you?

     My phone starts to ring, I ignore it. Then again, and again, and again, sigh. A text comes through.

James:
I’m sorry baby. I’m on my way. Please wait for me.

Maya:
I’m going out… without you. Asshole. Remind me not to bother trying anymore.

     And out I go, I grab my clutch and head into the city on foot, the day is too nice to spend driving plus the traffic is ridiculous. First stop I hit Costa coffee and get an iced caramel latte to go before hitting the park. There’s some kind of jazz band playing. They’re actually pretty decent and there are a lot of people crowding round on picnic blankets. I grin and skip over to a kiosk to get an ice cream cone.

     I lay in the shade of a tree, ice cream cone in one hand, my kindle in the other. I’m currently reading a book about immortals, some amazing guy called William who’s been dreaming of one girl for years has finally found her. My favorite supernatural trilogy of all time.

     I lay on my belly, swinging my legs in the air, occasionally watching a group of kids play soccer as their families watch on. They look so happy. My thoughts drift back to my husband. He’s been trying to get me to go places with him for months and when I finally do he forgets. How does somebody forget something so soon?

     What am I supposed to do with that? How do married couples react to being let down? Do they storm off in a huff or talk it out or what? This is so frustrating. The one person in your life who isn’t supposed to let you down and they do.

Just fuck him and forget. It’s not like you wanted to spend time with him anyway
.

Shut up libido. Not everything is about sex.

If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just thought that not everything was about sex
.

I did just say that. (in my mind)

So what changed? A month ago everything was about sex.

Fuck.

Glad I could help.

     I really need to stop arguing with myself. My mind is like a bad case of good cop bad cop. My libido being the bad cop. Or the naughty cop. I should invest in a sexy policewoman outfit.

     With a sigh I check my phone, four texts, and twenty three missed calls. All from him and one from
Summer. I know he’s probably called her to see if I’ll tell her where I am.

I read my messages:

James:
Please baby, I’m sorry. We’ve still got a full day. Don’t be pissed.

James:
I’m sorry! We’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take tomorrow off as well.

James:
Please reply! Or answer your phone.

Summer:
Hey chick, what are you up to? Fancy a coffee?

Maya:
Hey Summer. I’m not stupid. We’ll go for coffee tomorrow! Xx

Summer:
I told him you’d know it was him asking but he told me to try. Xx

Maya:
He’s an ass.

Summer:
What man isn’t?

Maya:
True dat! Much love bitch xx

Summer:
See you tomorrow titface! Xx

James:
Answer your effing phone!

James:
Fine… be a fucking child! Christ Maya I fucked up, I’m sorry.

     Just for that comment alone I decide to answer the phone. “Who the hell are you calling a child?”

     “Just tell me where you are so I can come meet you,” the pleading tone in his voice is laced with a mixture of desperation and annoyance. Good. “I’m sorry.”

     “Sorry, I’m busy. I don’t remember where I am.”

     “Stop acting like such a child. Christ… why do I bother?” he groans.

     I let out a humorless laugh, “Yes, you’re right… why do you bother?”

     “Maya I didn’t mean…”

     “No, I know exactly what you meant. Even when I try it’s still not good enough for your high and mighty ass. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with. Rather than waste another four years
‘bothering’
with me!” I hang up again. I don’t know why his words affected me so much, he says them all the time. Maybe because I’m actually making an effort. It may be a crappy one but I’m trying. And you don’t see me complaining constantly like he does. Well, not out loud anyway.

     I wait another two hours before I head back home sweaty and feeling calm. I grab another caramel latte on my way back and power walk to my elevator. My energy levels are high so I take the stairs.

     When I enter my apartment I head straight to the living room. James is crouched over on the couch, his head in his hands. His hair looks tousled and sexy, he’s wearing nothing but beige shorts and a baby blue shirt, buttons open showing his golden chest of muscular glory. I push away my erotic thoughts and flop into the armchair. He looks up as I put my latte down and gives me a weak smile. I notice the concern in his eyes.

     “I’m sorry for saying that I don’t know why I bother. I do know why I bother,” he mumbles and lets out a sigh. “I’m a dick. Will you forgive me?”

     I raise my eyebrows and laugh. “Everything about that apology was wrong. You refer to me like I’m a chore that you bother to do. It’s ridiculous.”

     “You know what I mean.”

     “We aren’t working.” I watch as his face falls even more. My heart twinges a little. I ignore it, eager to bring my point across. I’m still deciding what that point is. “Clearly, all we do is argue. It’s ridiculous.”

     “We are working. Don’t say that!” I see the panic evident in his eyes. “Don’t walk away from me now.”

     I rest back into the seat and take a deep breath. “I want a divorce.”

     “I’m not giving you a divorce,” he scoffs and jumps up from the couch, his quick movement startles me but I keep my face impassive. “Over something so stupid.”

     “Too bad. I can’t deal with this anymore. I don’t know why I bother.”

     He winces at my words but I see the effect they have on him, pretty much the same effect they had on me. His eyes become round with hurt and the green dims a little. He looks his age, concern etching his features. A little fear tightens the lines around his eyes. “We aren’t getting divorced.” He begins to pace whilst his hands practically rip his hair from his scalp. “We can do this. I promise I’ll do better.”

     “Marriages aren’t supposed to be like this. I’m supposed to want to come home to you. I’m supposed to enjoy spending time with you.”

     “All marriages have problems. Maybe we should go see a couple’s therapist.”

     I snort, “No thank you. I don’t talk about feelings.”

     “Please, don’t end this now.”

     “At least you won’t have to bother with me anymore.”

     He growls, “You know I didn’t mean that! I’m sorry. I fucked up! You have no idea how excited I was for today… I got a call and lost track of time.”

     “What call?”

     He smiles a little and sits back down, “I’ve been trying to find my biological family. I was adopted at the age of five. I remember having a brother. I’ve had a team of private investigators looking into it.”

     “You were adopted?” I gasp, how little I know of my own husband. “But I thought…”

     “My birth mother died when I was two. My older brother and I were separated in the care system, he was five. I don’t know what happened to him. I’ve been looking for him and any other living relatives for years.”

     “Wow. That’s pretty big. Did they find him?”

     He shakes his head, “No, the only information they found is that he shared the same foster house as me for six months after our mom died before he was taken elsewhere. Seems his files are lost or something. They got his name though. It’s Lucas King. My birth surname is King.”

     I go to sit next to him and take his hand in mine, my anger from earlier forgotten, “That’s so great. It’s better than nothing right?”

     He nods with a grin, “Now I have his name I’ve been searching social networking sites and lots of other things. The problem is, I don’t have a clue what he looks like. I don’t even have a picture.”