Chapter 5

Lorali

Rolling over on the bed, I sigh. I’ve had yet again another restless night. If I continue to sleep so poorly, I’ll require a wheelbarrow for the bags under my eyes for future events. Thinking about working tonight and it not including a coffin or an off-key rendition of Amazing Grace actually brings a smile to my face.

Dragging myself out bed I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth; afterward I head to the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. Alexa, my best friend, is at the table, her head hung down over a cup of caramel covered coffee, strawberry blond hair a curtain around her face.

“Hey stranger,” I say with a yawn. “Not like you to be home on a Saturday or up this early.” I walk to the counter and grab my favorite cup out of the cabinet above the microwave and pour a very large cup of java, grateful that I don’t have to wait for it to brew. I add in sweetener, and an obscene amount of French vanilla flavored powder creamer. I’m going for a run later and will work off the extra calories by making an extra trip around the block. I need my coffee to be perfect this morning after not sleeping well last night.

“Party too hard last night and have to cut it short?” I ask, settling into a chair at the dining room table, bringing one knee to my chest and my perfect cup of coffee to my lips.

“I’m just tired of it all, Lor,” she states flatly, looking at me with sad green eyes. “The late nights and rowdy parties. The bouncing from one guy to the next. I feel like I have no purpose.”

“I can see how it gets old, but you don’t want to be like me. Home early every night, no life, waiting on pins and needles for the newest eBook to be published so you can read it on Kindle.” I cringe when I say it out loud. It seems to be much worse when you actually put my nightly habits into words.

“I’m not saying I want to be a hermit,” Alexa groans and takes another sip of her black coffee.

“Hey!” I say slightly offended at her use of such a negative one-word description even though it honestly describes me to a tee.

“No offense. I don’t want to give it all up, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to slow down and possibly share some of these nights with the same guy. I’m not saying I want to settle down and do the monogamous thing, but just no one seems to be up to standard. Everyone I’ve met is stuck in the fast lane and has no intentions of slowing down. I’m getting too old to keep the pace up much longer!” She leans back in her chair, the wear and tear of her life showing slightly on her beautiful face.

“Well, take a few weeks off,” I suggest. “That should be enough to get some energy back, and when you feel up to going out again, figure out a different place to go, one geared more towards the life you want, not the crazy parties and clubs that you’re frequenting now.” It’s that simple right? If you want to change, stop doing the same things you’ve been doing and expecting things to be different. This is why I honestly have no problems with my life. I like being alone and reading. It’s my happy place. There’s too much drama with going out and partying, hoping the people you meet have the same expectations as you. No, thank you.

“Yeah, maybe,” she redirects her attention to me. “So what eBook will you be reading tonight?” she half jokes, but I can tell she’s serious. I narrow my eyes at her, but can’t be mad. She knows me very well.

“No book tonight. Remember I told you I was going to be relocated to the living part of the Lifestyle page?” She nods and takes a sip of her coffee. “Well, my boss Tom sent me an email late yesterday afternoon informing me I have two events to attend tonight. I’ll be rubbing shoulders with rich people all night. First at an art opening and then at a masquerade ball.” I smirk, informing her that she can no longer make fun of me because I’d be attending loads of events in the future.

“Well, look at you! I decide to park it for the weekend, and here you’re getting ready to party all night!” She’s grinning at me with a look in her eyes that says about damn time!

“Yeah, I won’t be partying all night; I’m there for work remember,” I say, absently wondering if drinking is allowed while on the job at these social events. Add that to the list of questions to ask Tom next week. Looks like I’ll be remaining sober tonight which is no big deal since I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I drink so infrequently; I haven’t ever been able to build up a tolerance to it. My one glass of wine a night after work doesn’t count.

“Have you decided what you’re going to wear?” I gaze at her and can already tell she’s in make-over mode. The mischievous glint in her eye says she’s already thinking about how she’ll do my hair and makeup.

“Don’t look at me like that!” I warn her. This isn’t the first time she’s looked at me like this. I set my cup of coffee on the table and bring my other knee up to my chest.

“Like what?” she asks innocently, tilting her head to the side and batting her eyelashes to try and look more angelic. It’s not working.

That make me over to find a man look! We go through this every time I decide I want to go out and have a little fun!” I almost laugh at the look on her face. She’s busted, and she knows it.

Her face grows very serious. “But you might just run into the man of your dreams at one of these events!” I can’t help but laugh at how sure she is her helping me with my hair, and makeup will make the man of my dreams suddenly appear.

“Ha! I’ll run into the man of every woman’s dreams at these events. Isn’t that the point? The rich and single get dressed up so they can meet even richer people, with a hope of marrying them and multiplying their net worth! I hardly see the rich and single going for the events reporter.” I say, stating the obvious. I’ve nothing to offer a rich person. My bank account is missing a few zeros to even register on their dating scale.

“Well, you never know! Your Prince Charming could be super rich and super single, and you don’t want to show up looking like a slouch. Now do you?” She looks at me quizzically, placing her coffee cup on the table with a thud adding emphasis to her point.

“I’m not looking for Prince Charming or any other man for that matter!” I huff, becoming upset. Why is she trying to push me out into the world to look for a man when she said she was having trouble finding a decent one of her own? Besides, Prince Charming doesn’t exist.

“Well, maybe not Prince Charming, but a night full of over the top orgasms wouldn’t hurt you either!” She actually has a point with that one, but I’d never admit that she did so I stare at her in shock, pretending I can’t believe she just said that to me!

She grins at the fake look of horror on my face. She loves it when she gets me riled up! “Well, fine. Have it your way, but eventually you’ll have to switch pharmacies! The staff is getting suspicious of all of the batteries you buy.” She walks away, glancing over her shoulder still grinning.

I stare at her until she disappears into her room. I smile. Besides, I don’t buy that many batteries, and it’s more economical to buy them in the jumbo packs right?

I hate admitting she has a point. I’m no virgin by any means, but casual sex just doesn’t appeal to me, needless to say, it’s been awhile. How long can someone go without sex before they’re considered celibate? I think back, how long has it been? Six, seven months? I honestly can’t remember. I look in my phone calendar because that’s where I keep all of my pertinent information. I look back, and back, and back…holy shit! Seventeen months! I haven’t gotten laid in a year and a half!? How’s that even possible? If it’s been seventeen months since I last had sex, maybe I have been buying too many batteries. I certainly don’t feel deprived, and I know that has a lot to do with the periodic use of my vibrator after reading steamy romance novels.

Alexa, however, is right; some non-self-induced orgasms should definitely be a top priority for me. I do need to schedule a girl’s night out. And do what… go trolling? The idea doesn’t appeal to me in the least! Ugh! I should just stay celibate! What I needed was a friend with benefits… now if only I had male friends.

***

I run errands for the first half of the day, getting my grocery shopping for the week done. I need to reconsider my diet. After getting it all home and unpacked, I realize my weekly purchases consist mainly of carb filled junk food. I even looked for a dress to wear tonight but found nothing that I just couldn’t live without. I really hate shopping by myself because I usually end up buying things that look very similar to each other. I can say there’s not much color in my wardrobe, but writing obituaries doesn’t allow for many bright spring colors. Nothing says I have no respect like a fuchsia mini dress at a funeral.

I’d have to settle for one of the little black dresses I had in my closet. There was one I’d bought on a whim but once I got it home, I decided it’s a little too racy for a funeral. It was slightly too short, and the mild sparkle the fabric had been too showy for grieving the dead.

I hated to admit it, but I’d have to give into Alexa and her standing offer to take me clothes shopping so I could ‘join the current world of fashion’ as she’s always said to me.

It’s not like my wardrobe is dated, it’s just simple and understated. Why buy new things when I have a closet full of clothes? Never made any sense to me, but now I realize I’d be at various events, and maybe a more polished, refined look would be necessary to ‘fit in’ with the people who grace the front page of the Lifestyle section. I certainly don’t want to stand out, looking like I don’t take care of myself when everyone else will be coiffed and regal.

The weather’s perfect today so I hit the pavement for a quick run before showering and getting ready for the night. Caving, I go ahead and let Alexa do my hair and makeup. It saves me the argument and the time I’d spend trying to get it right, knowing I wouldn’t come close to what she could do it in less than half the time.

While she’s pampering me, I let it slip that I tried clothes shopping and found nothing today, and before I knew it I’d agreed to go shopping with her and Josie tomorrow. I acted put out by it, but being honest with myself I know I need it, and Alexa has her fashion shit together, so I know it’ll be a very productive, and probably expensive, day. So I smile at her and find myself thankful for living so frugally and hoarding most of my money away. I have a feeling come sundown tomorrow my bank account will be crying, and my closet will be full of the latest fashion.

I commend myself for always loving shoes because the thin spaghetti strapped dress I’m wearing tonight wouldn’t go well with a pair of ballerina flats. I may not have the most stylish clothes, but I always rock a pair of beautiful heels, bought on clearance with a coupon of course. Being economical is always on the forefront, because of growing up so modestly. Besides it just means I have even more to put into savings.

The shimmery black dress accentuates every curve of my lean runner’s body. The cowl neckline has a mild droop but covers my chest entirely, keeping me very modest. This is a work event after all. The strappy shoes have a four-inch heel and look fabulous, but I know my toes will be frozen within minutes of stepping outside. Oh, the price you pay for cute shoes! She’s left my hair down in beautiful waves, and it cascades down my back and over my shoulders. I insisted she keep it down because I’ve got to attend two events this evening and it’ll help to keep my ears warm while I transition from one event to the next.

“You look fantastic! The rich hotties will be all over you tonight!” Alexa exclaims as I make my way out of my bathroom. She’s sitting on my bed thumbing through a magazine. I know she’s there to check and make sure I’ve not made any adjustments to her masterpiece. Her smile means I must’ve successfully passed her scrutiny.

“Thanks. I feel phenomenal, but I doubt that. They’ll see the press pass around my neck and be polite but avoid me as best they can, afraid that they’ll say something while in a drunken stupor that’ll land them in hot water once it makes it into tomorrow’s edition.” I grab a silver necklace and matching teardrop earrings out of my jewelry box and put them on. I find the night’s necessities and put them in my clutch. Lipstick, check. Cell phone, check. Driver’s License, check. I turn back to Alexa once I have everything I need.

“Don’t forget the condoms!” Alexa tells me as I close up my purse.

“No need for that tonight, Alexa. Besides, I just bought a new pack of batteries, so I’m good to go for a while!” I grin, daring her to say something else. She knows for a fact I’m not the type of girl to pick up a random one night stand.

She gives me an exasperated look, rolls her eyes and leaves the room.