WORKING GIRLS
Sara
“You’ll get through this, Mom,” I insist as I talk to her on the phone that evening. “It’s not because of you. It was that fucking strumpet.”
An image of Ian fucking Ford making love to me with his hot mouth and blazing dark eyes takes over my mind, and I shake it off with a vengeance. “Tell me what you’re doing for yourself,” I insist.
Because I know my mom. My childhood was spent eating her homemade meals, and with my mom braiding my hair when I did my homework. She lives for her family. Being an only daughter, she nearly broke when I rented an apartment in New York. All she had was Dad—and making a warm and welcoming home for him.
Now, even that is gone.
“What do you mean?” Mom asks, as if the concept is alien to her.
“Are you seeing your friends for canasta once a week instead of once every leap year? Taking daily walks with Lico instead of having someone else do it?”
“I am. I’m walking Lico two times a day.”
“That’s good! Mom, that’s great. I’m proud of you. Do things that make you happy. Dad will regret it someday, and you’ll be so happy you won’t want him back. Ever.”
“It’s just that…” She pauses. “How could he, Sara? How could he? I did everything right. I did everything—”
“I don’t know, Mom,” I whisper. “Maybe he was too comfortable. He never feared losing you. Maybe… these things just happen. My roomie just broke up with a guy she’s been dating, and the guy was crazy about her. Some asshole ex—” I cut myself off. Some asshole ex turned out to be pregnant, I think. Bryn and Christos broke up last night. Christos didn’t even make it to their date. And me? Well. I’m seriously losing faith in the universe.
And once again, I wonder if love really works out for anyone.
I’m feeling more than a little blue by the time I hang up with my mom. It’s not just Mom who worries me. It’s Bryn, too.
Christos was the boy of her childhood who got away, and suddenly they were together again and falling in love. Now, she’s walking around in silence, sometimes staring off into space. Last night she cried all night after the breakup. In the office, when she becomes distracted, I notice the way she tries to snap out of it and focus on work—but it still hurts and frustrates me not to know what to do for her. For my mom. Even for myself, to be honest.
Because I can’t help but wonder what happened to Ian Ford and his marriage that made it fall apart. A part of me hates not knowing. A part of me wishes it were over and done with so I could find out if we really have something worth pursuing.
* * *
The next day I meet with Jensen, a good friend I met through Bryn who’s helping us with the upcoming House of Sass launch. He’s a graphic design artist with a fabulous basement flat in Gramercy Park that even provides that elusive key to the gated neighborhood park. He’s got a longtime boyfriend now, a thriving business, and the confidence to show for it. Makes me wonder if the bad luck we girls are experiencing romance-wise is only affecting the women of the world.
“So. The job. You happy?” he asks as we walk down Irving Place to his neighborhood coffee shop.
It takes me a moment to catch on to what he’s saying. “It’s good. I enjoy working with Bryn. Sorry. You caught me at a moment.”
“A good moment?"
I feel my cheeks flush. “Nah. I just… I’ve been a bit in a cloud since last night.” I wave it off, shaking my head.
“What? You’re not happy?”
“Yes, with the job; it’s just that today I’m a bit… spacey.”
I pause outside the coffee shop while Jensen orders our usual coffees. Then he strides outside, hands me my cup, and leads me to a small round table.
“Okay. Spill it, woman,” he says.
“I found out my one-night stand’s name. More than that, I found out he’s the grandson of one of my and Bryn’s customers. We spent the night at a hotel.”
“Sheshus, that’s fucking killer, Sara.” He slams a hand down on the table in emphasis, clearly thrilled.
“No, it’s not! He’s fucking married, Jensen.”
“Say what?” Jensen shifts forward in his seat, shaking his head in complete disbelief. “Fuck. Okay.” He drags a hand across his face. “No matter. It’s never a mistake when you get the O, you know what I mean? And you did get the O. Didn’t you?”
I groan. “God! Multiple times. That guy is so good he could make me O just from kissing. But he’s married. In the process of getting divorced, but that’s what they all say, right? I’m not that girl, Jensen!” I feel my frustration rise as I talk about it, and I swallow a huge gulp of coffee to calm it down.
“Forget him. Tell him ‘thanks for the O, but that’s all you’re good at.’ And move on. Get out more. Can I introduce you to some friends? I know a few people who can take care of the sex issue, no strings. A fuck-buddy type of thing.”
“In their dreams, Jensen!” I burst out laughing.
“The wet ones,” he says, tongue in his cheek.
“You’re disgusting.”
He mulls it over, chuckling. “What happened with his marriage? Do you know?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I fiddle with my coffee cup. “There’s such chemistry between us. It’s unreal.” I frown. “But then he told me his situation, and I said it was over and walked out. I’m jealous, you know? Just thinking that some other woman has rights to him.” But last night he was looking at you with raw possession, Sara. Ugh. Stop it, little voice.
“I don’t want anyone else to have him, but I am definitely not looking forward to something this complex and… complicated. I’m scared he’s working me out of his system in men’s usual ways—maybe even using me to get over the ex or whatever.” I sigh drearily.
“Is it a mutual decision to divorce?”
“I have no idea. I should’ve asked. Instead, I panicked, saw the red flags, and left.”
“Then take it as closure and move on. If not me, have Bryn set you up on a date.”
“I don’t know, Jen—things with Christos are over, and I’m not sure she can move on that easily,” I say. “This time I had a second-night stand. Give me one reason why it wouldn’t feel like closure?” I ask him, confused.
“Easy.” Jensen runs a hand through his perfect hair and leans back against the chair rest. “You want more of the big D.”
“Oh! He has a very nice D and I wouldn’t mind more of it. But it just…” I shake my head, suddenly angry at him. Fucking Ian Ford. “I want him to want me; that’s not typically me. I’m usually dreading that they’ll call again, Jen.”
“Damn, that’s a problem.”
“I know.” I sigh and glance at my watch. “Okay. I need to head to the office. Bryn must be waiting, and there’s something going down with Christos that I’m worried about. I’ll let you know when I know more.”
“Please do. I’m a hairsbreadth away from hunting Christos down and beating him up for hurting her.”
“I know you are. I know you love Bryn.” I kiss the top of his head and take my coffee with me.
“Sara. What about the auditions?” he asks.
“Still waiting for the call. Hoping something else will come up. The more auditions, the better the possibilities, right?”
“Damn right. Break a leg, princess,” he says.
“I already did once!” I yell back, glaring down at my coffee.
I’m about to board the train when I get a text from my saved number at Daniel.
François:
Ian Ford, mademoiselle.
You’re welcome. :)
Trembling, I’m about to text back my thank you when I get a call from Robert.
“Sara, you won’t believe who’s at the hotel right now. He just ordered room service.”
I shuffle onto the train and take a seat, clutching my phone tight as the image of Ian surrounded by office papers comes back to haunt me.
“Until when is his room booked?”
“Only until tomorrow, unfortunately. But he’s back in 1103. His name is Ian—”
“Ford. I know. I just found out.” I exhale. “Thanks, Robert.”
My hand trembles as I end the call and stare down at my phone, wondering what I’m going to do with this little piece of information. He’s in town until tomorrow. When he leaves, will he ever come back? Will I ever see him again? Do I want to?