Cosmopolitan Girls (14 page)

Chapter 28

Backsliding

Rule Number 4: Keep it moving, don't look back,
and don't let old memories trap you in the sack!

Charlie and I had been hanging tough, and since I hadn't seen Tara and Judy in a while, I invited them over. We'd bypass the fancy restaurant, so there was no need to dress up tonight. This was a chance to chill like we used to. However, I wouldn't dare tell them about all my escapades with Charlie. They would surely have me committed. As far as they knew I was still moping around, depressed over Troy, and busy with preproduction.

My kitchen was foreign territory, but I decided to try my hand at cooking. I had to christen these pans at some point in my lifetime. I racked my brain rifling through the pantry. I dusted off a box of pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce. Boiling water couldn't be too hard.

Tara glanced over at the stove. “I think you should let the cooking thing go, Lin Lin.”

“I wanted to make dinner for us,” I said, unsure, looking at my pot of boiling salt water in disgust.

“I'll pass!” Judy sighed.

“I'm with Judy, Lin Lin.”

“That's just rude, y'all!” I said, turning off the burner.

The phone rang.

“Lindsay?” a familiar voice asked.

“Troy?” My heart stopped. Judy's eyes widened and Tara started jumping up and down. I shushed them.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said.

“Oh, well, I'm kind of busy right now.” A hint of nervousness ran through my voice. Judy and Tara were giving me silent animated signals not to screw things up.

“Look, I wanna see you.”

“Oh, so you and your boy can play more games. I don't think so!”

“It's just dinner.”

“Dinner. Hmmm? I don't know if that's a good idea, Troy.” He did sound sincere, and I had to admit the anticipation of what it would be like to see him was palpable.

Tara and Judy were jumping up and down giving me “Are-you-out-of-your-mind-girl!” looks.

“Well, okay—sure!” I said enthusiastically. What would it hurt to see him over a little dinner on neutral territory? “Let's meet at Match,” I suggested.

“Great. See you in about an hour.”

By the time I hung up, Tara had pulled out my hottest three-inch-heel knee-high boots and Judy was holding up the tiniest skirt and T-shirt I owned.

“This is how you win, girlfriend, by looking hot!” Judy said, sucking her teeth. “You betta work it out and show Mr. Man everything he's been missing!”

Troy was standing outside the restaurant when I pulled up. I stepped out of the car in my Judy and Tara–inspired getup. Troy hugged me tightly.

“It's good to see you, L.”

My body missed his touch. He was calling me L again. Okay, breathe! I had to remind myself of the Cosmo Code.
Keep it moving!
I can do this!

Match was a snug bar and grill in SoHo. Euro-eclectic music had us grooving at the bar. Troy whispered, “Let's do some shots.” One shot quickly turned into four.

“Troy, what about Robin?”

“L, baby, let's just worry about me and you, please.” Bye-bye control! I was tangled in his words. We swayed to the rhythm of the music. Troy made me feel whole, womanly, desired. “I miss being with you so much,” he said softly. We stumbled down the steamy city streets. The night air slipped between our passionate kisses.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Trust me.” Troy gave a lustful grin, and led me down the street.

The blue glow from a basement nightclub outlined our bodies. House music blared from inside.
Jack, Jack, Jack
your body . . . Jack, Jack, Jack your body.
Troy pressed me against the wall and thrust his hips in between my legs. The little bit of skirt I was wearing was hiked up. My panties got wetter and wetter. I had to remember the Cosmo Code!
Don't let those good-ass memories trap me!
He pulled down my panties and began to penetrate me. I swear, I was trying hard not to go against the Code, but Troy, his touch, his eyes, were like Kryptonite.

I could hear drunken voices and snickers. I was so caught up I'd forgotten we were outside. Troy climaxed. I climaxed. We were certified exhibitionists.

“Let's go.” Troy was moving too fast, and I was trying to catch my breath.

“Wait, where are we going now?” I asked.

Troy turned toward me. His green eyes were glowing. “We're going home,” he whispered.

Troy sped over the Manhattan Bridge like lightning. Sade's lush vocals filled the car. Being with him again
was
the “Sweetest Taboo.” My head was swimming with delight.

“I love you, Troy,” I whispered.

Troy smiled. “Love you too,” he said, pulling me closer and unlocking his front door. I had waited all this time to hear those words from him. It was worth the agony.

I walked into his house confidently. I scanned the room. The painting
Lay Your Heavy Burdens Down,
by Alonzo Adams, which I'd purchased for him, was hanging over the fireplace.

We tripped through the living room, now decorated and filled with beautiful furniture.

“Look familiar?” he said, pointing out the living room set. I picked it out one day while we were shopping, and now it was here. “You said it would look good.” Troy gave me an endearing look.

We carefully made our way up the stairs to the master bedroom. I opened the door, shocked to see the room's new look. A beautiful cherrywood canopy bed fitted with Ralph Lauren's signature sheets was in the center of the room. I remembered when we used to make love on the small area rug because his old futon was too noisy and often messed with our rhythm. Why was I thinking about that? This was our reunion. I was about to reclaim my man! And I did, holding him tighter and tighter, as the fire bellowed between us.

The next morning Troy quietly rolled out of bed. I stirred and squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. He stood up and I eyed his naked backside hungrily. He reached for his shorts and sneakers, dressing for the gym. “Woman, have my breakfast ready when I get back,” he joked. I threw a pillow at him and we both laughed. We were picking up right where we left off.

I hugged the sheets and sniffed them deeply. I wanted my skin to soak up his scent. I rolled over and out of the bed, tiptoeing gingerly across the cold wood floor to the bathroom. I wanted to shower and fix myself up before he got back.

I turned off the shower and wiped the fog from the sink mirror. I opened the medicine cabinet hoping to find one of my old barrettes or scrunchies. My jaw dropped at the sight of tampons, perfume, nail polish, and makeup—and none of it belonged to me. It all had to be Robin's, or some other woman's.

My brain was racing. Pandora's box had been opened and I knew there was more to be found. I flung open the closet in Troy's bedroom. Women's clothing hung near the back. This bastard has me up in here and he has a live-in girlfriend! And we hadn't used a condom. I hope to God I didn't catch anything. If I do I'll kill him!

A demon jumped in me and I started yanking out every piece of clothing I saw!

The laundry hamper was in the corner. I flipped it over, dumping all the contents out onto the floor. More women's clothing, even underwear. I ran back into the bathroom. Flinging open and slamming shut drawers and cabinets until I found the scissors. With one sweeping movement, I gathered all the clothes from the floor. I looked like Edward Scissorhands the way I masterfully cut everything into shreds and tiny bits. I was making sure the wrath of Lindsay would be felt. I caught my reflection in the large wall mirror. I looked like a madwoman but I didn't care. Thinking fast, I flew back into the bathroom, opened the drawer, and reached in to replace the scissors. I had to put everything back in order before Troy got back.

I discarded all the pieces of clothing into the bottom of the overturned hamper, then filled it back up with the soiled clothes. I grabbed a plastic bag from the kitchen and shoved an armful of the toiletries inside and stuffed them in the bottom of the garbage pail. By the time Troy returned, I was showered, dressed, and sitting on the couch waiting like an animal for its prey, waiting to pounce on him. I stared at the painting. It was supposed to be symbolic of my love.

Troy was glazed with beads of sweat, holding a bag of bagels and lox. He swooped in and gave me a gigantic bear hug.

“Whassup, L!” He smacked my buttocks. “I'm gonna shower. Breakfast is in the bag.” He ran upstairs.

“Thanks, but I'm not hungry. I've got to get home to get some work done. I'll talk to you later.” I headed for the door.

“Okay, cool, I'll hit you on the cell later.”

I took one last look at the painting. A woman standing strong for her man as he bares his soul in her bosom. I had him right in front of me, face to face, and didn't open my mouth. Why was I afraid to confront him?

Chapter 29

Bamboozled

I was finally having my meeting with Miranda. I rehearsed my speech on the way to her office. Too bad Kyle was in L.A. on business. He'd have to get the news via e-mail. I knocked on Miranda's door.

“Charlie, please come in.” Miranda opened the door and directed me to sit down.

Miranda, pretty, waiflike, and barely a day out of college, had worked her way up the corporate ladder horizontally, or so I heard.

“I just want to say thanks. The copy you wrote was spectacular! The client absolutely loved it, as you already know.”

I couldn't believe Miranda was finally giving me my due.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity. I know you could have gone with Susan or another copywriter,” I said, trying to play my corporate hand.

“They want more,” Miranda said.

I was confused: was I getting a bonus or more work?

“Well, that's good to know. What can I do to help?”

“I'm so glad that you have this type of attitude, Charlie. Good copywriters are hard to come by. I could write the copy myself, but I'm swamped at the moment. So, I'm assigning you as the exclusive writer for the B-Cap account,” Miranda said, walking over and patting me on the back.

I was thrown by her speech. Exclusive writer? I needed more details.

“That's great! When do I meet with the clients to discuss the specs?” I said cleverly, searching for more information. Miranda smiled as she handed me a piece of paper.

“Oh, you won't be meeting with them. Here are all the specs. If you have any questions, buzz me. Otherwise, I have complete faith in you. I know you will crank out the best possible copy.” Miranda got up and returned to the other side of her desk.

“It's team spirit like this that will get you to the top, Charlie,” Miranda said. I smiled uncomfortably and couldn't think of anything to say. I needed to leave Miranda's office right away. But as I headed out, she stopped me.

“Charlie, you're doing a great job.” Miranda smiled as she picked up the phone.

“Thanks.” If I was doing such a great job, where the hell was my bonus check? I want more money, not more work!

“Charlie, could you be a dear and shut my door behind you. Thanks, sweetie,” Miranda said, returning to her phone call.

Slowly I walked back to my office. If looks could kill, everyone in sight would be dead. I noticed my phone line flashing and answered. It was Michael.

“Honey, I know this is short notice, but I have to make a trip to London.” Michael was talking fast.

I was really confused. Miranda had just hit me with a left hook, and now Michael was coming with a right jab.

“I have to put in advance notice for vacation, I just can't pick up and leave,” I said, wondering where all this was coming from.

“You don't need to go. It's a business trip,” he said, and the phone was silent.

“Oh, I see.” Michael was playing me for a fool, or at least he thought he was.

“Listen, the other night Natasha invited me to her annual networking party that she hosts at her home in London.” Michael rattled off so much information I thought he was going to choke.

“Really,” I said flatly.

“Look, I'm not going to argue with you about this. You'll just have to trust me. I just wanted to give you my flight information and find out how much money I need to withdraw for the monthly bills,” Michael said coldly.

“You've already purchased your ticket?” I wanted to go off, but I was at work.

“If I was going to get the ticket at a decent price, I had to get it today. Natasha's party is this Saturday.” Michael was laid back and sure of himself. “Just tell me how much you need for the bills.” Michael's voice began to crack.

“Michael, the bills are the same every month. Just leave me what you always leave.”

“Cool, talk to you later. Love you.”

He had his nerve saying those words to me. I didn't even dignify them with a response. This Natasha had my man wrapped around her pinky with this partnership scam. Her wealth had Michael's nose wide open.