Chapter Six: Sophia

I can feel the warm sunlight streaming through the slit in my curtains. I mentally curse my tiny east facing apartment. Every morning the sun assaults my windows with its cheery rays. Typically, I keep the heavy blackout drapes pulled together. Thanks to my hours at the bar, I typically don’t start most of my days before noon, but with the sunlight and persistent pinging sound my cell phone is currently making, I’m thinking noon is not gonna happen.

With an annoyed grunt, I reach out and slap at my nightstand, hoping to kill my phone in the process. I fail. My fingers brush over the cool glass, and it almost instantly begins buzzing with all the missed text messages and calls. Whoever this is on my phone better have a good reason for waking me up.

“This should be good,” I grumble as I pry one eye open and hold the phone above my face, willing my eyes to focus on the obtrusive and obnoxiously bright screen. I can tell I’ve missed a series of random messages telling me these bills are due soon, or those bills are already overdue. Another day, another headache, and another dollar short. I’ll have to see if Maria has an extra shift I can pick up so I can get back on track.

I roll my eyes and continue to scroll through the next several messages, all of which happen to be from Regina. The first one just says you’ve made it. I’m hoping it’s a joke but I know it’s not.

I cringe hoping that it doesn’t mean what I think it does. She’s included a link in the text. I click on it to see my face on the front page of the tabloid Just So.

It’s not the most flattering picture, but the headline is worse than I could have imagined.

Barmaid Hooks up with Designer’s Son in Seedy Bar. A string of violent curses explodes from my mouth.

I shove myself up into a sitting position, resting my back against my headboard. Both eyes are open, or at least my good one is with the other feeling puffy and swollen. I’m on a mission.

My fingers fly as I text Regina back, then I decide just to call her before she starts typing back.

“Seedy? How could they call The Spot, seedy?” I practically screech as she picks up.

She chuckles, and I frown. “Well, it did use to be a strip club,” she replies airily.

“Well, I know that,” I sputter, “but I just can’t believe how sleazy they are making it sound.”

“If I were you, I would be more concerned about the barmaid hookup,” she said. I know she’s right and I pull myself together tucking my knees up to my chest in bed. Maybe I should just go to sleep and let everything blow over.

“Trust me, Gina, I am. The fact that my mother could be reading this right now gives me major anxiety.” If my mother sees this, she’ll be the next phone call I’m forced to take before lunch.

“How did they know you hooked up with him. If you read on, it says patrons could hear the two getting it on in the bathroom.”

I could feel the heat climbing into my cheeks. Maybe whoever it was on the other side of the door last night was listening. Okay, that’s just gross on a whole new level. “Well, that’s not true. The employee’s bathroom doesn’t allow patrons to be anywhere near.”

“They guessed. Do you think Thomas is freaking out?”

I lean my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes tightly together tears of frustration burning at the edges. I begin to question if this whole thing hadn’t been one colossal mistake. I mean, hooking up with a guy at your place of business isn’t always the wisest career move.

“I honestly don’t know. Why didn’t you tell me he was such a big deal before I started hooking up with him?” I whine.

“How was I supposed to know you were seeing the Thomas Henry? That could be the name of any number of people.”

I heave a heavy sigh. It’s not her fault I was thinking with my hormones and not my brain. “Well, I guess there’s not much I can do about it now. Guess I’ll just have to ride it out.” I pick a collection of fuzz off my blankets and flick it to the floor. My life has been nothing but a series of unavoidable wrinkles like my bed sheets. I try to remember the last time I washed them. My mind is a hundred places at once.

I hear Regina snicker. “Isn’t that what got you into this mess to begin with?” She then cackles into the phone and it makes me smile despite the piss poor mood I’m in. Thomas Henry. I should nickname him Hottie Henry or something else equally inappropriate.

“Yeah, yeah. I need coffee. I’m going to the coffee shop. Hopefully, this will all blow over.” Caffeine was my only drug of choice and it had better fix this because I didn’t know anything else that could.

She just chuckles again and tells me bye. After disconnecting the call, I toss it to the blankets tangled around my feet. Then, leaning forward, I press my hands against my eyes. “Fine freaking mess you got me into,” I grumble to my libido. “See if I listen to you again,” I swear my libido chuckles back, cruel wench. She doesn’t care as long as her needs are getting met even if it proverbially screws me over again and again.

After another fifteen minutes of wallowing in self-pity, I climb from bed and rummage through my closet for something to wear. I finally pull on a pair of capris and a short sleeve shirt. My favorite coffee shop is just a block from my house. The walk there is great exercise and refreshes me in the morning. I don’t even mind spending a little of my hard-earned tips every morning just for the pleasure. I think about calling upstairs to see if George wants to join me but he’s usually busy this time of day and I don’t need to rehash this all over again just yet.

I open the door to my apartment and find a guy standing in the hallway. He is on his phone and seems startled when I come out. He doesn’t look like someone I’ve seen in the building before. I decide he’s waiting for the girl who lives in the apartment next to me. I lock my door and give him a polite nod and smile, but as I walk by him I hear him say quietly, “get ready, she’s coming.”

Please tell me that my caffeine deficiency is causing me to hear things. Surely, he did not just tell someone that I’m coming out of my apartment. That wouldn’t make sense. I shrug it off as paranoia and stress and proceed on my way.

When I get to the bottom floor I push the double doors open and am blinded by the brightest lights I’ve ever seen. Startled I jump back inside trying to adjust to the flashes in front of my eyes pulling the door closed with me. What was that?

I look out the window to the side of the door and see cameras. There are at least five men with cameras outside my apartment. My landlord already hates me because I’m perpetually late with rent. I can only imagine what all this attention is going to cause. If I’m not homeless by the end of the week because of late rent, I will be because of all the slimy paps hanging around the front doors. My building doesn’t have fancy security and this is going to blow up in my face.

Breathing heavily, I press my back against the wall by the window. One of the photographers comes up to it looking in, but he can’t see me. Maybe there’s someone else staying in the apartments is famous. That’s a possibility, right?

“You need a bodyguard?” George comes up to me and smiles his brightest. “They can get my good side if I protect you.” I smile and grab onto George in a half hug. I’d never been so thankful to see a friend before. He hugs me back and ushers me forward. No place to go but moving on.

“Can they come into the coffee shop?” I ask completely oblivious to how this whole thing works.

“No, they usually don’t.” He flips imaginary hair and smirks. “I once dated the stand-in for Brad Pitt in one of those movies. I got followed a couple of times.” My jaw drops and he winks reassuring me.

“Oh okay, then walk with me to The Steam and Press, please?”

“You’re going to the dry cleaners?” George asks.

“No, it’s a coffee place. They have the best coffee. Please, just walk me there. I can’t be photographed and stalked like this.”

George nods and I take a deep breath. He pushes the door open and demands the cameramen get back. He uses his body to block them and guide me out onto the sidewalk. They press and hound us.

“Hey sweetheart,” one of them yells, “are you going to see Thomas?”

“Doll, look at me. Where does Thomas take you on dates.”

“Back up a bit and let the lady walk,” George says as he pulls me into him. I tuck my head under his arm wishing I had some dark sunglasses to put on. This is what I have decided my nightmare consists of. I have no doubt that in less than an hour my mother will be frantically calling to ask what the heck is going on.

The walk to the coffee shop is usually my time to think and relax. This is far from relaxing. In fact, I am really assessing my burning need for coffee. Like how badly do I really need the jolt of caffeine? Now might be the time to make a special trip to Target for a coffee maker which I’d been putting off since I cracked the glass on the last one I had.

Do they always follow Thomas like this? He told me once they wait outside the gates of his parent’s house and go to the clubs he’s at. He says you can’t do anything anymore once they catch your scent.

I’m thinking this is probably the end of us. I can’t imagine him wanting to be with me if he can’t sneak to the bar anymore. For some reason, that thought bothers me a little more than it probably should. I’ve enjoyed our hookups and while yes, a secret part of me maybe hoped it could be more I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t take a moment with Thomas Henry for granted and now it’s gone. I don’t really want the cameras in my face all the time anyway. No matter how hot he is, I feel like that will give me anxiety.

They are going to be watching him that much closer now. They are going to be watching his every little step. They will be trying to catch a glimpse of poor little bar girl, desperately sleeping with a rich boy as she tries to claw her way to the top.

I frown because it wasn’t even like that. We met by chance. I didn’t know he was rich, and I certainly didn’t know who he was. I think he liked that until I saw him on television and almost dropped the glass I’d been drinking out of.

Had I let any of my friends meet him or someone see us together, I would have known a lot sooner, but I liked for him to be my dirty little secret. Who wouldn’t? There’s just something about being sneaky and being bad. Well, this is as about as bad as I can afford and now I’m going to pay for it, possibly lose my job, maybe even my apartment when I can’t pay rent.

George is right, when we walk through the doors of the coffee place, they don’t follow. They also don’t leave. They continue to hover outside like scavengers. He informs me that a lot of businesses won’t allow paparazzi through the doors because they believe their customers deserve privacy.

“Look at the relentless little vultures,” George says and scrunches his face up at the menu. “I like my coffee shop better.”

Still, he orders a coffee right behind me and we sit in little plush chairs to wait out the cameras.

“I don’t think they are budging,” George says after we’ve sipped in silence for a while.

“What could possibly be interesting about me getting coffee?” I throw up my hands. One of the cameras snaps through the window.

“Oh, now the headline will read slutty barmaid fights with a fabulous friend over gross coffee,” George says smiling. My eyes roll hard but I know he’s right. My every move will be scrutinized until they move on to the next big scandal or indiscretion.

“Please, you’re probably right,” I smile. None of this is comfortable to me. I rarely post pictures of myself anywhere and if I can get out of being in a picture with someone, I will. I don’t even post on social media sites unless I’m obligated.

After our coffee is finished I look outside to see only one of the five photographers have been deterred. When I get ready to go out and brave everyone, I see the guy who’d been standing in my apartment ordering a coffee.

There’s no way it’s a coincidence that he’s here and I am going to confront him. I walk up to him and cross my arms. He turns slowly and gives me a long look up and down which I don’t appreciate.

“Why are you following me?” I ask and tap my foot impatiently.

“I go where the boss says to go and that’s where the money is. Don’t worry honey when he hooks up with someone else, you’ll be old news.” He sneers. If I was into punching people on the regular, he would be on my hit list right up at the top.

He walks away and try as I might I can’t think of anything clever to say to him. Still, what he says bothers me a little bit. When he hooks up with someone else. For some reason, that made what I’d been doing with Thomas feel dirty and cheap. Was I just another in a long list of hookups? I didn’t like having to second guess myself and I didn’t like the implied label this guy was giving me.

I try to tell myself that these type of people say these things to make you mad. They want you to cuss them so they can report it.

I hear him get on his phone as he’s leaving. “You’re outside of Rosa’s apartment? Beautiful, yell at her about the bar chick. Get a reaction.”

Not only are they after me and Thomas, but they are going after his ex-girlfriend too? This sucks so bad. “This is madness,” I tell George as he prepares to shield me once again for the walk back to the apartments.

“I know, I love it,” he yells as the photographers start hollering things at us again. The walk back feels like it takes twice as long and my mood dampens as the caffeine wears off.