Almost Broken (13 page)

I don’t know how successful I am. After I button up my shirt, I throw the tie around the collar and fasten it.

“How about now?” I say, doing my best GQ pose, and she bursts into laughter.

“You tied it all wrong,” she says and stepping toward me. The closer she is to me, the more difficult it seems to breathe, like the temperature has suddenly gone up. She keeps her eyes on my tie. I
want
her to look up at me, but I’m praying she doesn’t.

That line between us, the one that’s supposed to be thick and wide is getting just a little thinner. She’s probably done this for
him
a thousand times, but that doesn’t explain why her cheeks are flushed. Each time her fingers brush against my chest I feel anxious, calm, nervous and excited all at once.

It’s taking everything in me to keep my arms at my sides. Every ounce of determination I have is being employed to stamp out the urge to wrap my arms around the small of her back, pull her against me and kiss her lips that are barely open, but begging me to taste them.

This isn’t good…

When she finishes, she steps away from me, and I let out a breath, hopefully not an obvious one. She grabs my jacket and hands it to me.

“For the full affect,” she says lightly. I laugh to release some nerves. She’s shifting her weight back and forth. Once I look in the mirror, I have to say I look much more put together, more comfortable, and for a minute, I wonder if I look like
him.

“Much better,” she says as she looks at my reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods as she heads out.

“Lauren.”

She turns on her heels back towards me.

“Did you do this for
me
a lot?” She looks surprised I’m surprised.

She pauses and a reminiscent smile spreads across her face. “He wouldn’t let me anywhere near his ties.” She snickers before leaving the room. I can’t help but smile to myself. That means that’s a first.

My first with Lauren, that Cal
didn’t
have.

HHH

The fund raiser is exactly how I thought it would be. Boring, long speeches, bad food, dull conversation, stale jokes. I want to crawl out of my suit and hang myself with my tie. The suit was a hit at least; Jenna even complimented me on it. My stomach’s growling, my mom didn’t let me get seconds of her meatloaf since I was coming here. And tonight’s main course is Salmon. Fish is the one thing I don’t like, especially when it looks undercooked.

“You can try to look a little interested,” Jenna whispers in my ear. I give her a guilty smile. This is the second, maybe third, long-winded speech that’s been given in the last twenty minutes, and I’m doing my best not to fall asleep.

“Go get some air,” she says, giving me a squeeze on the shoulder before pecking me on the cheek. I avoid looking at her dad’s best friend. He’s been giving me dirty looks all night. Her dad probably gave him the task of making sure I feel unwelcome since he couldn’t be here to do it himself. I get up and make my way across the midsized ball room they’ve rented out. I glance at my phone to check the time.

9:20 p.m.

I’ve only been here forty minutes, but it feels like hours. This thing is probably going to last until at least 11:00 p.m. I’m almost at the door when one of the servers nearly bumps into me.

“Excuse me,” she says quickly before dodging me with a tray full of champagne glasses. Suddenly, my vision is blurry, and there’s a ringing in my ears.

When things come into focus I’m not in the same midsized ballroom at a medical fundraiser. There are still people everywhere, but there’s a live band on stage and a huge banner that says “Crestfield Cares” with silver and black balloons everywhere. It’s happening again. I’m remembering and I see
him.
He makes his way inside of a private room. It’s a large office, looking out over the downstairs ballroom. Dexter’s there, a drink in hand.

“What’d you want to talk about, Dex?”
he
asks, amused, walking over to the window where you can see down over the entire floor.

“I never thought I’d see you like this, Cal. So enamored,” Dexter says smug a grin on his face.

“I’m not really an ‘enamored’ type of guy,” Cal jokes as he looks downstairs over the party. His gaze immediately finds Lauren. She’s in a short grey dress that fits her like a glove, her long hair is pulled over her shoulder.

“Like the dress? I picked it out,” he replies, his eyes roving over her as she makes small talk with a group of women. She glances up at him and he winks at her, she blows him a kiss.

“I’ve never argued that fact.” He laughs. “You have excellent taste,” Dexter adds.

“However, I’m starting to worry that she’s not just an infatuation of yours anymore,” he says tightly.

“That’s because she’s not. I told you that, Dex,” he says, his irritation apparent.

“I didn’t think you meant it.” He chuckles.

“You’ve run through more women than you have red lights.” Dexter’s tone is playful, but his expression is stern. Cal turns away from the window and leans against it, his arms folded across his chest.

“I’m asking her to marry me,” he states bluntly. Dexter’s face is blank. He’s quiet as he walks over to the large desk in the office and sits behind it. He folds his hands and lets out a deep breath.

“I can’t allow you to do that, Cal,” he says quietly, and I begin to laugh.

Cal’s reply is sharp. “I think you need to remind yourself who you’re talking to before saying bullshit like that to me.”

“Cal, marriage is an entirely different animal. It’s not something you’ll be able to hide or take back,” he says, looking me in the eye.

“I’m not stupid. I know how marriage works. I’m doing it. I love her,” he says simply. Dexter shakes his head and takes a long sip of his drink. “I’m going to need you to back me up on this. I want it to be legitimate,” he says seriously and Dexter laughs. He walks closer to him, looking him directly in the eye.

“I’m serious, Dexter” he says pointedly.

“So you’re planning on telling her the truth?” Dexter counters. Cal scowls at him.

“Of course you’re not.” He laughs mockingly.

“You’ve been able to pull off some version of a serious relationship. I’m quite impressed. I must give you that. But a marriage, to be able to pull that off with your condition, and without telling her the truth, you would have to be Houdini,” he spits bitterly, standing from his desk and pouring himself another drink. Cal walks towards him.

“You’re right,” he says and pats him on the back.

“She’s just my play thing. I’m going to go play with her now,” he says sarcastically.

“Let’s not worry about any of this now. It’s a party. Eat, drink, and be merry!”

He says boisterously. Dexter frowns.

“Maybe I won’t marry her. You know me, always kidding around, since my life is a big fucking joke!”

“Cal, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to keep things fair,” Dexter says tightly.

“Why don’t you stop playing fucking referee for a minute and know that I need this!” he shouts at him. “I
need
her,” and I can hardly believe it, but Dexter’s expressions shows a hint of sympathy. Cal turns away, and heads out of the office. He starts to open the door but turns around before he does.

“Let’s not forget, between the two of us,
I’m
the one keeping secrets for you. Not him. Don’t get on my bad side, Dex. It’s not a good place to be,” he warns him before slamming the door. He heads down a long corridor where people are drinking and dancing. It seems like forever before he gets to Lauren, who’s walking around the party trying to look interested, an almost empty champagne glass in her hand. He slips his arms around her waist. She looks up at him, a seductive smile on her face.

“Let’s go,” he says, and she giggles and slinks her arm around his neck. “How many glasses of champagne did you have? He asks her and she looks up as if she’s thinking.

“Guess,” she says, pouting her lips at him.

“I’m going to have fun with you tonight,” he says, leading her towards the exit.

“You have fun with me every night,” she teases back, her hands running up his back.

They exit the party where a dozen other people are waiting for their car to be pulled around.

“We’ll have your car in just a moment, Mr. Scott,” one of the valets says with a glance their way. A moment later a black Porsche pulls around, and he leads Lauren towards it.

Lauren thanks the valet as he opens the door for her. They drive for about 15 minutes with Lauren singing along to the radio.

“Babe, I’m going to have to pay for you to have voice lessons or something. This singing off key thing isn’t sexy,” he jokes and she swats him on the chest. A few minutes later, they’ve pulled up in front of a huge body of water. He gets out of the car and walks around to Lauren’s side of the car to open the door for her. He takes her hand and helps her out of the car.

“The lake front. Look at you, being all romantic,” she kids, and he laughs. The music is playing from the car just loud enough for them to hear it. He lets out a deep breath, and I feel
my
heart speeding up.

“Have you ever wanted a different life?” he asks her solemnly.

“Sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?” she says, snuggling closer to him.

“If you could have the exact life that you always wanted, what would you do to get it?” he asks her, and she looks puzzled.

“You mean like rob a bank or something?” she jokes.

“No not like that.” He laughs. “What if other people didn’t like the life you chose,” he asks.

“Since when do you care what other people think?” she asks, looking up at him curiously.

“It’s not about me. It’s about you,” he says quietly.

“It’s hard to answer that question. I like my life. I’m not rich or famous or anything, but I’m happy,” she says seriously. She stares off over the lake and his gaze follow hers.

“You make me happy,” she says quietly taking his hand. I feel a smile spread across
my
face.

“If things ever got hard, would just being with me make you happy?” he asks her and she frowns.

“I’m not here for the expensive restaurants and to ride in your fancy cars,” she jokes before kissing him on the cheek, and he laughs.

“If you lost your job and became a hobo that had to ask for money on the corner, I’d still love you,” she says, squeezing his hand.

He laughs. “You’d live in a cardboard box with me?”

“No, but I’m sure after I graduate I could afford a two bedroom place for us,” she jokes.

“What if I was sick? Would you take care of me?” he asks her.

“Are you sick, Cal?” She asks seriously.

“No. These are just rhetorical questions,” he tells her, and the relief washes over her.

“I’d be the best nurse you ever had,” she says.

“You wouldn’t bail on me if things got rough or hard,” he asks her, and she starts to giggle.

“Is this your way of telling me we’re going to have rough hard sex on the hood of your car?” She giggles.

“Is that all you want from me, Ms. Brooks? I’m deeply offended.” He chuckles and realizes she’s a little too drunk to have a conversation like this.

She slides off the hood of the car and stands in front of him. It’s warm out, the breeze from over the water blows her hair. She steps out of her shoes and kicks them away from her, then reaches underneath her dress an slips off her underwear. She saunters back over to the car and climbs up on top of his lap, takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and replaces it with her underwear.

“I’m going to have to find out what champagne that was,” he says as she undoes his pants…

“Christopher,” Jenna’s voice jolts me back to reality. This one at least.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her hand on my cheek.

I nod. “Was I out here long?” I ask, worried that I’d been standing here like a zombie for I don’t know how long.

“Like ten minutes,” she says. “What’s wrong?” she asks nervously.

“Do I look like something’s wrong?” I respond.

“I wouldn’t have asked if you seemed fine,” she says, taking my hand and leading me towards the car. I feel guilty about holding her hand, the same hands that were just all over Lauren, not literally, but I swear I can still feel the heat of her skin.

We get into the car. I know I’m quiet. There are so many thoughts running through my head. What Cal said to Dex about keeping secrets for him, I wish I knew what those secrets were. With Dexter, it could range from something small to something big. I try to forget the emotions that coursed through me when he was with Lauren. I felt how genuine he was when he said he
needed
her.

I think back to when my mom was sick and the slump I was in, how I felt dead inside, like I was in mourning. Now, I can’t help but think part of that was because
he
lost Lauren. We were both in mourning, lost and dying inside. I shake that thought, though, because that makes him too real. That makes me see him as a person and not a selfish asshole, something other than the villain.

I glance over at Jenna, who I see is watching me through the rearview mirror.

“You look tired,” she says quietly and I nod.

“Did she help you pick out what you wore tonight?” Her words hang awkwardly in the air.

“Yeah,” I admit, and she lets out a deep breath, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“My mom was asleep...” I start to explain.

“It looked nice, but it’s not you,” she interrupts me. I loosen the tie and take it off.

We don’t say much else for the rest of the ride. When she pulls in front of my house, I lean over to kiss her, and she gives me a quick peck on the lips before pulling away.

“FYI, I don’t want her picking out your ties, or your shirt, what you eat or the name of our future children!” she says, her anger increasing with each syllable.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jenna,” I say, and she looks away from me.

“God, how could you be so insensitive?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. I wanted to look nice at the party for you!” My excuse sounds pathetic, even to me.

“You’re not my arm candy! I wouldn’t have cared if you showed up wearing stripes and polka dots. Nothing that you do with her is ever going to me happy unless you’re telling me she’s signing the divorce papers.” She hits the button to unlock the doors, cueing me to make my exit.