Page 73
Story: Scandalous Secrets
“You too.” She picked up the papers and left the room.
“Glad to see you’re back,” said Kathy, unimpressed.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I spent the rest of the day in my office thinking about what Erica had said. She knew me better than anyone and here she was telling me that I was the most myself with Monica. That was saying something. I was usually a shell of a person with women I was involved with. I never fully let them in, but kept them satisfied enough with attention and gifts.
With Monica, it was different. No, I didn’t fully open myself up, but I was damn close to doing so. I didn’t have to put on the façade of a suit and tie. I could be myself, blending pina coladas and singing karaoke. Laughing under the covers, away from the world that so many women before had been desperate to be in the light of.
Could I really win her back, though?
It was something I couldn’t think about now. Now I had to go to my parents’ anniversary party, and I still hadn’t bought them a gift. I could have had Monica do it for me, but something about having her run an errand for a celebration of love didn’t sit right. When I left work, I stopped at Bergdorf Goodman and spent too long trying to find a gift. I eventually settled on a set of crystal champagne glasses, and had just twenty minutes to get to my parents’ second New York home, a penthouse apartment that overlooked Central Park.
When I arrived, I rode the elevator up to the top floor and the doors slid open to reveal their expansive entryway that was lined with vases holding fresh white flowers and candles glowing in votives. I was immediately offered a glass of champagne from a server carrying a large tray. I thanked her and took a sip before continuing on to the party that awaited.
I stepped down into the living room that was filled with cocktail tables and crisp white linens, people surrounding each one as they enjoyed appetizers and drinks. Apparently, my parents’ idea of celebrating their thirty years of marriage was inviting half of Manhattan.
I spotted Erica talking to Jeremy, and looking like she needed someone to come save her. I debated being the one to do it after what she pulled today, but deep down, I knew she was only trying to help. I was on my way to interrupt with some sort of excuse, but was stopped along the way.
“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here,” purred Veronica as she side-stepped in front of me.
I internally groaned.
She was wearing a white, beaded, floor-length gown. She looked like she could be getting married, which was a ridiculous choice for my parents’ anniversary party.
“Why am I not surprised to see you?” I muttered as I looked anywhere but her.
“Don’t be upset. Your mother invited me.”
“Ofcourse, she did.”
I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why my mother would want to keep my ex-wife around. I would confront her about it tonight, but didn’t want to ruin her anniversary party. Instead, I would just have to try and ward off Veronica as best as I could.
“I hope you’re not mad.” She placed her hand on my forearm and stepped closer, pressing her lengthy body against mine.
“Mad isn’t the right word…” I sighed.
Annoyed. Frustrated. Disgusted. Those were the sentiments I had toward her.
“I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for long.” She pressed further into me, her hand straying dangerously close to the crotch of my pants.
“You’ll have to excuse me.” I removed her hand and pushed past her.
“H-hey!” she called after me.
I ignored her and walked swiftly to where Erica stood looking bored out of her mind.
“Hey, sis,” I said as I grabbed her arm and pulled her along with me, completely ignoring Jeremy. “Emergency in the kitchen.”
“Oh, thank God. If I have to hear more about Jeremy’s fitness routine, I think I might puke,” she said as she tried to keep up behind me.
“If I see Veronica show up at one more event, I might puke, too,” I muttered as we posted up in the corner of the kitchen as the caterers bustled around us.
“You’ve got to talk to Mom about that,” said Erica, leaning against the counter and popping a grape in her mouth.
“Talk to me about what?” asked my mother as she rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen with Veronica by her side. She put her hands on her hips and glanced between my sister and me suspiciously.
“About love,” said Erica, nearly choking.
“Glad to see you’re back,” said Kathy, unimpressed.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I spent the rest of the day in my office thinking about what Erica had said. She knew me better than anyone and here she was telling me that I was the most myself with Monica. That was saying something. I was usually a shell of a person with women I was involved with. I never fully let them in, but kept them satisfied enough with attention and gifts.
With Monica, it was different. No, I didn’t fully open myself up, but I was damn close to doing so. I didn’t have to put on the façade of a suit and tie. I could be myself, blending pina coladas and singing karaoke. Laughing under the covers, away from the world that so many women before had been desperate to be in the light of.
Could I really win her back, though?
It was something I couldn’t think about now. Now I had to go to my parents’ anniversary party, and I still hadn’t bought them a gift. I could have had Monica do it for me, but something about having her run an errand for a celebration of love didn’t sit right. When I left work, I stopped at Bergdorf Goodman and spent too long trying to find a gift. I eventually settled on a set of crystal champagne glasses, and had just twenty minutes to get to my parents’ second New York home, a penthouse apartment that overlooked Central Park.
When I arrived, I rode the elevator up to the top floor and the doors slid open to reveal their expansive entryway that was lined with vases holding fresh white flowers and candles glowing in votives. I was immediately offered a glass of champagne from a server carrying a large tray. I thanked her and took a sip before continuing on to the party that awaited.
I stepped down into the living room that was filled with cocktail tables and crisp white linens, people surrounding each one as they enjoyed appetizers and drinks. Apparently, my parents’ idea of celebrating their thirty years of marriage was inviting half of Manhattan.
I spotted Erica talking to Jeremy, and looking like she needed someone to come save her. I debated being the one to do it after what she pulled today, but deep down, I knew she was only trying to help. I was on my way to interrupt with some sort of excuse, but was stopped along the way.
“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here,” purred Veronica as she side-stepped in front of me.
I internally groaned.
She was wearing a white, beaded, floor-length gown. She looked like she could be getting married, which was a ridiculous choice for my parents’ anniversary party.
“Why am I not surprised to see you?” I muttered as I looked anywhere but her.
“Don’t be upset. Your mother invited me.”
“Ofcourse, she did.”
I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why my mother would want to keep my ex-wife around. I would confront her about it tonight, but didn’t want to ruin her anniversary party. Instead, I would just have to try and ward off Veronica as best as I could.
“I hope you’re not mad.” She placed her hand on my forearm and stepped closer, pressing her lengthy body against mine.
“Mad isn’t the right word…” I sighed.
Annoyed. Frustrated. Disgusted. Those were the sentiments I had toward her.
“I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for long.” She pressed further into me, her hand straying dangerously close to the crotch of my pants.
“You’ll have to excuse me.” I removed her hand and pushed past her.
“H-hey!” she called after me.
I ignored her and walked swiftly to where Erica stood looking bored out of her mind.
“Hey, sis,” I said as I grabbed her arm and pulled her along with me, completely ignoring Jeremy. “Emergency in the kitchen.”
“Oh, thank God. If I have to hear more about Jeremy’s fitness routine, I think I might puke,” she said as she tried to keep up behind me.
“If I see Veronica show up at one more event, I might puke, too,” I muttered as we posted up in the corner of the kitchen as the caterers bustled around us.
“You’ve got to talk to Mom about that,” said Erica, leaning against the counter and popping a grape in her mouth.
“Talk to me about what?” asked my mother as she rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen with Veronica by her side. She put her hands on her hips and glanced between my sister and me suspiciously.
“About love,” said Erica, nearly choking.
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