“No,” she says. “I don’t think so. Could you—” Several seconds tick by. When she speaks again, her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her. “Could you tell him that Marissa called?”
“Of course.” And, on a whim: “Is he expecting your call?”
“No. He’s not.” She sounds sad.
I promise to give him the message and press the “off” button, not sure if I actually will.
*
MARCHANT
Morning is always easier than night, but this one dawns especially bright. It’s been a long while since I’ve written anything, but before I even leave my sleeping bag, I write a quick poem about Suri’s body with my notepad app. Damn—those f**king curves.
As I shower and dress, I wonder how long till I can tap that shit again. Woman is addictive. The thought reminds me that she thinks I’m an addict. Annoying, yes, but necessary. There’s no other way to explain why I’d forgotten we had sex.
I’d much rather her think I’m battling a substance issue than know that my own brain betrayed me. Or, more accurately, my brain was so f**ked up, the only way I could get it back to normal was to let a bunch of doctors give me seizures.
I’m not sure why it matters so much, but I want Suri Dalton to think of me as normal. Well, I think as I slide a belt through my slacks—as normal as a pimp can be.
I’m wearing one of my Brionis today, because they’re comfortable and fit well. I’ve got four of them, three Fioravantis, two Huntsmans, two Kitons, and a Caraceni. I’ve found I’m taken more seriously when I’m dressed for business. Probably because so many people expect to find me dressed for sex.
No. 1, I never f**k my girls, and No. 2, at Love Inc., we’re all about the Benjamins.
Before going upstairs, I send a quick text to my money guy to confirm that the transaction to Hawkins went through. I don’t need to have that shit hanging above my head. He replies as I climb the stairs. ‘Done.’
Nice.
Despite what a prick he is, I feel a bit of guilt for how I handled things with Hawkins. If I’d been myself, I’d have paid him promptly. Since this was only my second manic episode, I hadn’t realized I’d be so reckless with money.
I never expected to have a second manic episode. Fucking naïve.
Still, I’m feeling okay as I sit on my porch. Rachelle arrives in her jogging outfit. She jogs up my steps, and jogs in place as she fishes my pill out of the pocket of her shirt.
“Thanks for bringing this by,” I tell her, swallowing it dry.
“No problem, boss man.” She looks me over. “You look sharp.”
“Thank you.”
Her delicate blonde brows wriggle. “You look better than you have in weeks. You get laid or something?”
I try to laugh her off, but I think I come off looking guilty—or even worse, smug.
She snorts. “Good for you.”
“You make it sound like I’m a f**king charity case.”
She laughs again, her head thrown back. “Now I know that is not the case.” She gives me a quick roll of her eyes before jogging off. “After tomorrow,” she calls over her shoulder, “I’ll give them back to you. Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
I’m doing okay now. Feeling less head f**ked. As I make my way to the kitchen, I’m surprised to find my mood is…pretty damn good. I crank up some Led Zeppelin on my Bose and crack two eggs, planning to whip up breakfast, before I get an even better idea. I’ll make something portable, and invite Suri Dalton to the maze with me. Maybe we can have a quick f**k in the bushes.
I grin, and I’m grabbing some fruit out of the pantry when I hear the click of shoes on hardwood, and there she in the doorway between my den and kitchen, looking gorgeous.
I can’t help how good I feel. I give her a big, stupid smile.
She grins back at me. “You look nice today.”
I look her over, deliberately lingering on her tits. “You look better.” I have to fight the urge to yank her dress up and f**k her on the kitchen table. I’m already hard, and I don’t try to hide it as I grab a paper bag from a nearby drawer.
“You going out?” she asks me.
“Yeah.”
She walks into the kitchen, giving me a great view of her ass, and leans against my counter. With her hair hanging a little past her chin and her pink lips smiling, she looks like a girl someone should love. Which is a f**king weird thing to think.
I rub my head, and she says, “Where ya going?”
“Thought I’d go for a walk.” I thought I’d go with her, but now that I see her looking so beautiful and fresh, I’m not so sure. Wasn’t I supposed to be keeping this professional?
But it’s just a walk, right? It should be pretty hard to ruin the beauty that is Suri Dalton in the course of a twenty-minute walk. And if we f**k? Well, it’s not the first time. I’ll end this f**k-fest soon. Get some willpower and take off to my house in Summerlin.
Till then… It’s been a long time since I took a walk around the grounds for no reason at all.
I look back over at her to ask if she’ll go with me, and find her smiling slightly.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh…nothing.” Her smile widens, and she laughs.
“What is it?” I rub my hand over my face. “Do I have a booger?”
“No.” Her eyes are twinkling, swear to f**king God.
“Then what?”
“You’re packing a lunch for yourself.” She’s still smiling.
I hold out two apples and a banana, like I’m surrendering a weapon. “You mean this?”
“Yes, that.”
I feel a little hot under my collar. “So what? A person’s gotta eat.”
“I know,” she says. “It’s cute.” And then she giggles. It’s a real giggle. Like…I don’t know. Something real and nice.
I’m surprised to find it makes me laugh a little, too.
“I was thinking one of them could be for you. You like apples? Or bananas?”
She twirls a piece of her hair, still smiling. I swear to God, this girl is like sunshine. “I like them both. Where are we walking?”
I shrug as I throw the fruit in the paper sack, prompting her to laugh again. “Just around. I like to stretch my legs sometimes.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and want to groan, because I sound like an idiot. I screw up my face and pull out my country voice. “Want to throw some stones in the pond? It’s real fuuun.”