25. NOT GAME
Silk sleeps over.
I do not.
Is this the universe’s way of pressing all my buttons at once to see what I can accept just to have love? Well, that’s where my limit goes. Poor Silk. Poor, beautiful, made-for-sin Silk, who’s sleeping in Ciro’s house and needs him more than me.
There are more men out there for me. I know it.
I read somewhere that on average, there are six other people in the world who looks exactly like you. It also said that you have a nine percent chance of meeting one of them in your lifetime. I wonder if the statistics count for men you meet too. Like, what are the chances that I meet a replica of Ciro, and if I did, would he be as superb on the inside as he is too?
“Hey, are we on for tonight?” Ana squawks on the phone. “Remember, the latest installment of Firefox Renegades is out? We could go ape and get two buckets of popcorn and have the guys sneak in tiny bottles of champagne. To celebrate, you know.”
It’s Ana’s thing now. Since we celebrated Ciro and her film, she’s wanted to celebrate everything with champagne. We have, however, stepped down to cheaper brands since then.
“Naw, I don’t think so.”
“What, are you working after all?”
I can’t even lie. “No... not exactly.”
She quiets, but then she asks, “What’s wrong? Is it you and Ciro? Please tell me it isn’t now that Aaron and I have finally found you.”
I groan and close my eyes.
“His ex is in town.”
“What? Silk is back?”
“Yeah.”
“But why? They’re not together, though, right? They were so over.”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen. Can we meet up? Have coffee or something? Are you walking the dogs this morning?”
“Yeah.”
“’Kay. I’ll see you at the dog park.”
I pull my fingers through my hair. It needs a wash, but I’ve forgotten the last two days. I wonder when I showered last. I think I did yesterday, but I might have forgotten my hair.
“Wow, baby. You don’t look so good,” Ana says. “What is going on between you two? I don’t understand. Is this because Silk is in town? Does she have a project here?”
“She fled an abusive relationship and right into Ciro’s arms.” I’m not exaggerating. I left the house right when he was hugging her and letting her nuzzle his neck. I can’t. No way I can deal with that.
“Wow. I think she was with that Moroccan studio owner, Brahim Kantari. So he smacked her around? He’s big as a bear and furry like one too. I remember thinking I’d never work for him just by his eyes. They’re like black, evil pieces of coal.” She chuckles, and I do too, because that does sound horrifying.
“When we saw them at film festivals and conferences, Silk was the beauty and he was the beast. It’s unbelievable that she stuck with him for that long. What’s she doing now, then? Licking her wounds, I’m guessing?”
“I don’t know. You should’ve seen them. He still loves her.”
“No, no, no. There’s no way he loves her like that. Haven’t you seen him with you? Ciro is a one-woman man. I know him, and I’m telling you: he loves you.” The determination in her gaze causes my little dead heart to cough. My brain remains cold. There’s always a fight between the two of them lately, and it’s exhausting.
“I don’t know, Ana. I feel empty. Super-alone,” I add, which doesn’t even make any sense.
“You’re not alone.” She pulls me into her little body and big bosom, hugging me tight. “You’ve got me and Aaron. I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that if we— Wait, you guys are still speaking, right?”
I shake my head. “I can’t.” A few tears trickle along the bridge of my nose.
“Well, then I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that he’s suffering as much as you are. You know what’s interesting?”
I emit a half-groan, half-grunt in response.
“I always thought you were so strong. Typically, girlfriends from outside are insecure of their guys, but you weren’t like that. I told Aaron how impressed I was. Don’t go and wimp out on me just because you’re in rough waters for a little bit.”
“Ana.” I sniffle.
“Hmm?”
“I have to admit something to you. If they had awards for insecure porn-star girlfriends, I would win the big gold one with all the bling on it. I’m so insecure that I stopped being his girlfriend the minute I found out what he did for a living.”
“What are you talking about? You guys...?”
“We were ‘friends plus-plus.’” I laugh at my own use of Ciro’s expression. “That was it. He did everything he could to change my mind. He even proposed to me once. And you know what the most ironic thing is?”
“What?”
“I surprised him at his house. I was dolled up like an idiot to tell him I was finally ready to cave in and be in a serious relationship with him. That’s when I found him holding Silk in his arms.”
Frieda is my best friend again, not Charlotte. Charlotte thinks I should talk things over with Ciro, because it wasn’t his fault that his ex landed on his door with all of her problems. She still lives there, I’ve heard.
Charlotte hands me the phone whenever he calls hers because I don’t pick up. Charlotte opens the door when he reverts back to his old ways of buying me phallic flowers, only now he hand-delivers them.
I don’t accept his flowers. He leaves them on the front porch. I’m a sucker who keeps reading his quirky love poems.
Please forgive
My fuckups
My ragged-up past, my now
My lameness, my stupidity
I need you, need you, need you
Then:
I love you
So hard
The moon doesn’t stand a chance
You, I love
You, just you
Then:
I want to haul the moon down for you
Then:
I’m working on the moon for you
Then:
Now, marry me?
The sorority girls across the street have standing orders to pick the bouquets off the porch. After the fifth one, I send him a single cactus with the inscription: Stop.
I get what I want. It’s quiet for two weeks. I hate how quiet it is. No phone calls, no flowers. I go to the dog park every morning. On the third day, Ana is there too.
“He’s in Istanbul,” she says. “He asked about you.”
“What did you tell him?” The hole in my heart won’t change size. “Is he there with Silk?”
“No, she’s in San Francisco. He got her an in with Harmony Femme. He says she has an audition this week. She’s a great performer, so I bet they’ll take her.”
“I bet,” I say drily.
“What kind of company is Harmony Femme? Hopefully not BDSM,” I find myself saying.
“They specialize in erotica geared toward women. They’re awesome to work for. Ha, I’ve worked for them twice, and those movies are the worst for Aaron. He says the guys always look like they love me, and he’s not into that. Doesn’t like my look in them either.” She winks.
“Oh geez, I can imagine.”
Ana smiles brightly. “I don’t take jobs with them anymore. He’s got me whipped.”
“Ciro better never work for them anymore either.
“No, I mean. That’s none of my business.”
Ana bursts out laughing. “Yay! Oh I’m so telling him this.”
“Don’t. Shit, I messed up.” And then I’m laughing too, and I feel freer than I have in a while.
“So... San Francisco, huh? Is she moving for good?”
Ana crosses her fingers and holds them up for me. “Here’s to hoping she gets a contract.”
He’s just back from Istanbul when I ghost-dial him and he doesn’t pick up. Maybe my nightmare came true. He’s hooked up with the perfect woman from his own ranks, Silk or not.
He calls me half an hour later, and I don’t dawdle. I pick up. Out of curiosity.
“Savannah, are you okay?”
I try to interpret his tone, wait for it to come off cold, but he only sounds concerned to my ears. “My cell was in the break room, and I didn’t get off until now.”
Get off?
I don’t tell him my call was an accident. I need to apologize anyway. This is as good a time as any. “I’m good. Sorry for the cactus. I didn’t mean to be acidic.”
“You were prickly more than acidic.” There’s humor in his voice.
I want to ask if the cactus was what stopped the barrage of flowers.
“True. How are you?”
“I’m all right. I got back from Istanbul last night, so I’m a little jetlagged. Was hoping for a few days off, but Sharon has me booked solid this week. Guess I’ll be relaxing in the weekend. Are you working at Mintrer’s tonight?”
I nod into the phone. “Yeah.”
“I can pick you up. What time are you off?”
My heart kicks into action, rolling into a shimmy.
“Ten.”
“Oh earlyish. That’s nice. You want to see Princess? I know she’ll want to see you.”
“I’d love to see Princess.”
I press my phone against my chest after we hang up. Then I close my eyes and let the confusion inundate me.
I feel so much for this man. I worked like crazy to overcome his job and got damn close. I’d almost even accepted his version of faithful.
But picture yourself getting there. You’ve surpassed the unsurmountable and you believe your beautiful, perfect boyfriend when he says it’s just flesh. How far would you go? I’m looking at you. If the most stunning creature of an ex-girlfriend with a past to match slips into his house and wants to sleep over, when she nuzzles into his throat the way only you should, do you still trust?
Do I still trust?
I can’t meet him at Mintrer’s again and again and all over again.
I ask to leave early, rush out, and call him on my way to the playground. It’s dark here, but all I care about is finding new territory, a place where we’ve never met before. I don’t want to go home to my house after, and I definitely don’t want us in his.
“Hey, it’s me,” I mumble into the phone.
“Are you off work already?”
“Yeah.” I try not to puff out my nerves. “You know the Seven Eleven a block west of Mintrer’s?”
“I do.”
“I’m behind it. On a swing.”
He’s there five minutes later. You don’t get from Ciro’s house to anywhere near Mintrer’s in less than fifteen, but I won’t ask.
He parks the car. I watch the lights go off. I watch him stride toward me with a purpose, the dark mass of his body contouring against the lamplights. I feel arrhythmic.
When he gets to me, he glances around like we’re breaking some law. It’s hot—I don’t know. His eyes gleam and search me. He leans in. Kisses me without asking.
I kiss him back, my chest swelling and deflating. It expands into his body and levels out, and then he hoists me off the swing, onto his hips and kisses me, kisses, kisses, and I have nothing solid under my feet.
“Why here?” he whispers.
“I just couldn’t again, from Mintrer’s. Things went wrong between us.”
He groans and pushes my face against his neck, holding me tight as if he doesn’t want to let go. The crisp night makes it better. The two of us are the core of everything that’s warm.
“We need to talk,” I say.
He nods, but his face burrows against me like he wants to hide. He inhales through his nostrils. He inhales me. My heart doesn’t hop at that. It wrings with blissed pain.
“Baby girl.” His words are so low they breeze against me. “I’m holding you in my arms right now, and that’s a little bit unbelievable.” He kisses me on an inhale of my perfume—my sweat—I don’t know. “You’re a tough one to keep around. Desert wind.”
“What?” I swallow.
“You know how it blows hard and strong, and it’s scorching in the middle of the day? That’s you to me. And if I’m not careful, you keep going and I’m left behind like another cactus.”
I’m glad he said cactus. It makes me snicker, and if I didn’t snicker, I’d be crying. “Ciro, the cactus man.”
He smiles. Lifts me higher. Breathes hot air against my chest. “I’d be the big kind of cactus, with both girth and length.”
“You.” He’s funny. He drugs me, and suddenly I’m inhaling him the way he inhaled me. “Girth and length mean nothing if it’s covered with needles.”
“Oh did I not mention that? No needles, just girth and length.”
“Eww, shut up.”
“You haven’t complained before. Unless you count statements like, ‘Oh please, baby. Deeper.’” He ends his too realistic moan with a sigh against my mouth.
My stomach floods with heat. “Ciro, I can’t do this. We need to go someplace where we can have a real talk.”
His lips still against my skin before he pulls back. “Princess is waiting for you at the house...”
“No. I just can’t.”