Читать книгу Getting sexy - Kayla Perrin - Страница 12

I feel as if I’m going through hell with the wedding plans, and honestly, Adam isn’t helping. Before, I thought his I’m-a-man-I’m-totally-clueless routine was kind of cute, but right now it’s just plain aggravating. There’s still so much to do, and I need a break from it.

That’s why, as I approach the front door of Liaisons this Sunday morning, I feel a burst of happiness, knowing that I’m going to see my dearest friends.

Only Annelise is seated at our booth when I walk into the restaurant just before one o’clock. Every Sunday afternoon, Annelise, Lishelle and I have brunch at this restaurant in Buckhead, which serves the best brunch in the city as far as I’m concerned. We’re so regular, the hostess saves our table for us.

It’s a time for us to sit back, relax and catch up on each other’s week while enjoying great food. Even though we talk quite a bit during the week with each other, during our brunches we really get to let loose.

“Hey,” I say in a singsong voice as I reach the table. An-nelise shoots to her feet, a wide smile on her face. She gives me a long hug.

“How are you, hon?” she asks.

“Ugh, stressed. This wedding’s killing me.”

“I know the feeling. I’m stressed, too.”

“Oh?” I slink into the booth’s soft leather. “Your wedding plans giving you grief?”

“No.” She flashes a sugary smile. “But I’ve had a shitty week at work. Two customers canceled on me, and I was counting on that cash.”

“Oh no.”

“Lots to tell, but only after you get your first cup of coffee.”

“I was thinking more like a mimosa today.”

Annelise’s eyes light up. “Thank God. I didn’t want to be the only one.”

She raises a hand to flag down the waitress, and moments later, Sierra, a petite Asian woman, comes to our table.

“Hello, Claudia,” Sierra greets me. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” I tell her. “You?”

“Busy. Taking a summer course in physics.” She rolls her eyes. “What can I say?”

Despite the fact that Sierra has worked here as a waitress for the past two years, she’s studying to be a doctor. I’m impressed. And a little envious. I’ve always wanted to go to med school. My father is a top neurosurgeon, and the profession fascinates me. But despite my schooling, I knew I’d never pursue a career. That’s the way it is for a self-respecting society woman like myself. The average woman today doesn’t understand that concept, that a woman in my position doesn’t actually work outside the home. She supports her husband in his aspirations, does volunteer work for worthy causes, raises children, works the society circles. One day soon, Adam will be in the political arena, and I’ll need to be by his side. He’ll need a full-time wife to support him.

“Two mimosas,” Annelise is saying to the waitress when I tune back in to the conversation.

“Lishelle’s not coming?” Sierra asks.

“You’re right, make it three,” Annelise decides. “If she doesn’t show up anytime soon, I can always drink hers.” Annelise makes light of her statement with a smile, but I know she’s serious. Which means she really must have had a shitty week.

“Help yourself to the buffet whenever you’re ready,” Sierra tells us. And then she’s off to deal with more customers.

I glance at my watch. It’s now one-ten. “Have you heard from Lishelle?”

Annelise shakes her head. “But I assume she’s coming. I mean, she’d call if she weren’t—right?”

“Right. It’s just not like her. She’s usually the first one here.”

“She’s probably stuck in traffic.”

“Yeah, probably.” Sierra suddenly appears with a tray of drinks. “Wow, that was fast,” I tell her. Both Annelise and I sip our drinks, then Annelise looks up.

“Speak of the devil…”

I turn. There’s Lishelle, gliding toward the table.

“Hello, ladies,” she practically sings.

If I’m not mistaken, Lishelle has extra pep in her step. And she’s glowing. Yeah, she’s definitely glowing. What the hell happened to make her so happy?

“That must be for me,” Lishelle comments, reaching for the extra mimosa as she sits beside me in the booth. “Perfect.” She takes a sip. She looks from me to Annelise. “Ooh, Annie. That’s a really nice dress. You’re showing a lot of cleavage. That’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to do something.”

“I don’t follow you,” Lishelle says.

“I’ve been having problems with Charles. In the bedroom. He won’t…well, he won’t touch me with a ten-foot pole, if you want to know the truth.”

“At all?” Lishelle asks.

“At all.”

“I’m so sorry to hear you’re having trouble again.”

“Again?” Annelise laughs without mirth. “It’s been a constant for nearly fifteen months.”

“Fifteen months?”

“Apparently,” I chime, and Lishelle looks at me in surprise. “She only told me a few days ago,” I point out.

“I know you were having trouble before,” Lishelle says, “but I thought you got past that. You haven’t said anything for what, a year?”

“I’ve been too embarrassed.” Annelise then fills Lishelle in on all she told me earlier in the week.

“And Charles,” Lishelle begins, “is he…reacting?”

“I spent five hundred dollars on new clothes, new bras, sexy shoes—and nothing.”

“Wow.” Lishelle reaches across the table and covers Annelise’s hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“What can you say? I’m starting to wonder if my marriage is in serious trouble.”

“No,” I assure her. “Charles loves you.”

“Every time he rejects me, it chips away at my self-esteem. A little more here, a little more there.”

“How can we help?” Lishelle asks.

“Just be there for me, I guess. Listen to me whine.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Have you talked to Charles about this?” I ask.

“If I even try to talk about why we’re not having sex, he gets upset. Defensive. Sometimes I’ll ask if he’s upset with me or what, and he tells me he’s busy. Stressed. That my impatience is only making him more stressed.”

“I’m sorry,” Lishelle says. “But if he isn’t having sex with you, don’t you think he’s fucking someone else? Let’s face it—what guy doesn’t want to have sex with his wife? You ask me, that’s a neon sign that he’s dipping his cock in another pussy.”

Annelise reels backward, looking absolutely crushed. I shoot Lishelle a glare. She gives me an “I’m sorry” look.

I’ll be honest—the same thought occurred to me regarding Charles screwing around—but I know Annelise isn’t ready to hear that.

I try a more tactful approach. “What if Charles is having some sort of medical problem?” I offer. “That could explain why he’s acting the way he is. Defensive. Standoffish. Unwilling even to hear any talk about lovemaking. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to start something he can’t finish with you.”

“Oh my God.” Annelise’s eyes light up. “Do you think that could be it?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“It would explain a lot,” Lishelle adds. “Let’s face it, you and Charles were the type who couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Which is what makes all of this even harder to deal with.” Annelise sighs sadly.

“Maybe you should ask him about it,” I suggest. “In a point-blank way. Tell him that you love him more than anything, that you’re there for him, and that if he’s having some sort of problem you’ll still be by his side. You know how guys are—they don’t want to admit that they’re having sexual problems. But if you ask if he’s having some sort of problem, and make sure to tell him you’ll support him no matter what…”

“God, I think you’re right,” Annelise says. “It didn’t even occur to me. I figured it was me who did something wrong, and he’d lost interest. My sister suggested I buy sex toys and sexy clothes—none of which has worked. How can it work if he’s got some sort of medical problem?”

“You won’t know for sure until you talk to him,” I point out.

“I’m going to do that. I have to know. If he’s got some sort of medical issue, I’ll feel so relieved. You don’t know how awful I’ve felt, being rejected by the man I love more than anything.” Her eyes began to tear up.

“I can only imagine,” Lishelle says. I catch the look that I hope Annelise missed—one that says Lishelle isn’t convinced Charles’s problems are medical.

“Enough about me and my problems in the bedroom.” She’s more composed now. “Tell us the latest with the wedding plans, Claudia. Four weeks away!”

I groan. “I’m so stressed.”

“Honey, why? You’ve got that great wedding planner.”

“But there are still a million things to be done. And Adam is seeming less and less interested.”

“When I got married, David was the same way. Could care less about the plans. And the closer we got to the big day, the more he seemed disinterested. I think guys can only handle so much talk about cakes and dresses and food courses. They want to go on the honeymoon already.”

“Charles was actually very helpful, and very interested in all the details—and even he freaked out once and told me he didn’t want to hear another word about colors or food or anything more to do with wedding plans. You remember—that was the weekend he took off and went to Macon to go fishing with his brother.”

I crack a smile. I do remember. And I remember how unhappy Annelise was at the time, how she seemed on the verge of having a breakdown.

Is that the kind of bride I’ve become? Uncool, uncalm and uncollected?

“In other words,” I begin, “you both think I’m freaking out over nothing.”

Annelise and Lishelle nod in unison.

“It’s just the way guys are,” Lishelle points out.

“Okay. I’ll try not to lose my head over this stuff. I have to go to New York on Tuesday for another fitting, and after that, my gown should be ready.” Nerves tickle my stomach. “Wow. I can’t believe May twenty-seventh is coming so soon!”

“And your thirtieth birthday.”

“I’ve all but forgotten about that.”

“We were thinking to take you out that night,” Annelise says. “Do a stagette-slash-birthday-party thing.”

“Before you know it, you’ll be a married woman, on a beach somewhere fucking your brains out.”

I can’t help but crack a smile at Lishelle’s comment, however crude. “That’s a nice thought.”

“I might just have to tag along with you,” Annelise jokes.

Little does she know, the way Adam’s behaving now, he might just be down with that.

Lishelle sighs dreamily, and I can no longer wait for her to blurt out the secret she’s hiding. Because I know she’s hiding something. It’s just like her to get all giddy and silent when there’s something she’s not telling.

“All right, Lishelle,” I say. “What is it? Ever since you walked through that door, you’ve been trying to hide this huge grin.”

“I do have something to share, but I’m not sure this is the right time,” she says coyly.

“Of course it’s the right time!” I exclaim. Now I’m dying to know what’s going on with her.

“Not that I don’t want to tell you, but after you’ve both shared not-so-positive stuff, it’ll seem like I’m gloating to share my good news.”

“Enough already,” I tell her. “Spill the beans!”

“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Annelise’s eyes light up. “Oh my God—you crawled out of bed with him just before you came here!”

“Well…”

“Oh my God,” I utter. “You did.”

A guilty smile spreads across Lishelle’s face. “Yeah, I did.”

I couldn’t be more shocked—or more curious. “Last week, you said you were swearing off dating.”

“I know. Believe me, I’m more shocked than anyone to be in a relationship right now.”

“A relationship?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Do you guys really want to hear this now?”

“Yes!” Annelise and I exclaim in unison.

“Okay.” Lishelle is really beaming. I haven’t seen her this happy since—

“I’m seeing Glenn again.”

My stomach sinks. “Glenn? As in Baxter?” The guy who only knows how to hurt you?

“Yes,” Lishelle gushes. “And I know what you might think, but this is it, ladies. Finally it.”

Annelise squeals with excitement. I reach for my mimosa and take a huge sip.

“How did this happen?” Annelise asks.

“He called me Friday night at the station. I didn’t want to, but I went to see him. And we clicked, like we always do. Then, the next morning, I was upset that I’d fallen into bed with him. We got to talking and he said he’s always loved me, that he wants us to be together.”

“And you believe him?” I can’t help asking.

“I do.”

I finish the last of my mimosa. While I want to be thrilled for Lishelle, I can’t help remembering how Glenn has hurt her in the past.

“I’m so happy for you,” Annelise says. “I know how much you’ve always cared for him.”

“That’s the hell of it. I still love him. Isn’t it insane? That’s the real reason I can’t resist him. It’s not just the sex.”

“You sure about that?” I ask.

She turns to me and nods. “The sex Friday night was off the hook. But Saturday morning, I couldn’t detach my emotions from what had happened. I told Glenn we couldn’t see each other like this whenever he got the itch. That’s when he told me he’s in love with me and wants our relationship to work. He was supposed to leave yesterday afternoon, but there was a last-minute change in his schedule. We hung out like friends the whole day. It wasn’t about the sex at all. Until later, of course,” she finishes with a sheepish grin.

“When it’s time, it’s time,” Annelise comments.

“That’s what I think.”

“Look, it takes some guys a long time. Look at Big in Sex and the City.”

“Exactly,” Lishelle gushes. “I always wanted Carrie to end up with Big.”

“Oh, me, too.”

Maybe Lishelle notices that I’m not saying anything, because she suddenly turns to me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Me? I’m not…I’m not thinking anything. Just enjoying…” I look at my empty glass. “I need another mimosa. Aren’t they great?”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re thinking that I’m making a mistake. And I hear you. I know why you think that. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s real.”

I squirm in my seat, sip water and do my best to stay silent. I fail. “You know I love you, Lishelle, and I want what’s best for you, but how can you forget how Glenn has hurt you in the past? I mean, you were dating the guy for two years in college, then you found out he’d been screwing other women. Not just one. Plural. How can you ever trust him?”

“For one thing, college was ten years ago. We were both young. Far too young to be involved in such a serious relationship. You have to admit that.”

“But—” I interject.

“But…enough time has passed for us to mature and know what we really want. We’re in our thirties now, for God’s sake.”

“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” I mumble.

“Claudia,” Annelise says in a tone that indicates I should chill. “Can’t you try to be happy for Lishelle?”

“Yes, please.” Surprisingly, Lishelle isn’t annoyed as she looks at me. She’s still beaming, like a girl in love for the first time. “Just trust me. I know this is right.”

A ragged sigh escapes me. “Okay. I will.” It’s not like I can tell her what to do. “And if you’re happy, that’s what matters to me most. I just want you happy.”

“I know that.” Lishelle gives me a soft smile as she reaches for her drink.

“I guess we’ll be seeing him again,” I say, “if this is serious.”

“Next weekend. I’ve invited him to the charity ball for the Wishes Come True Foundation.”

“Ah.” I wag a finger at Lishelle. “Now I get it. Getting back together with Glenn was all about having a date for the charity ball. Smart.”

“I think she’s onto something,” Annelise agrees, laughing.

“Whatever!” Lishelle shakes her head. “Am I the only one who’s starving here? We haven’t even hit the buffet yet.”

“Sure, change the subject,” I tell her.

We all chuckle as we get up and head toward the buffet.