Exquisite Betrayal (14 page)

It’s taken me a bit, but I’m beginning to
breathe easier. After being drawn and quartered by the douche-face
Ryland, my life felt so damn dim. All the girls were after me to
get out more so I could meet someone else that would steal my
heart. How is that possible when my heart’s had the shit beaten out
of it before it’s ever had a chance to begin with? How could one
stupid stunt in Vegas turn into such a fiasco for me? Was I the
only stupid girl to fall for the first guy I ever slept with? That
was the one thing I have stayed strong over. That and the fact that
I’m not going to let some sleaze ass talk me into sleeping with
him. That sure flew back and smacked me right across the face.

I thought it was bad enough when that
dickface, Bryce Mason, tried to make me think he had feelings for
me. Yeah, I was humiliated beyond words. He played me like a stupid
video game. The way he had me walk in on him getting that blowjob
in front of all his d-bag fraternity brothers. And my friend Adam
trying to get me to leave. I thought
he
was the one being the jerk when he was only
trying to get me out of there.

But no, Bryce asked me over because he said
he had something special he wanted to show me. It was special all
right. I still shudder when I think about how I barged into that
room, and there he stood, his pants around his ankles, the guys in
a circle around him so I couldn’t really see what was going on.

“
Come on in, Fallon,” he had
said.

“
What’s going on in here?” I was
laughing, thinking they were playing a drinking game or maybe
smoking weed. Nope. Nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened
next. The circle opened up and one of them pushed me into the
middle and said, “Bryce tells us you need a little lesson, so we
thought this might be a way to do it.”

I looked down and there was some blond chick
going down on him like a freakin’ piston then Bryce closed his eyes
and started moaning.

I clamped my hand over my mouth because I
thought I was going to be sick. I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t
let me. I’m not sure who it was, but someone held my arms and
forced me to watch. They wouldn’t let me go until they were through
with their little game. It was unbelievably gross.

I stumbled out of there, shaking, and my
face streaked in black from my mascara running all over the place.
They laughed at me because I was crying. Adam was outside waiting.
He took one look at me, and didn’t say a word. He simply took me by
the arm and drove me home. I never spoke to Bryce The Dickface
again.

That’s one of the reasons I wanted to lose
my virginity in Vegas. Why I decided I was over this crap of being
the goody-two-shoes. It had gotten me nowhere other than in a mess
and I was tired of it. I wanted to experience what everyone has
been yapping about. I wanted to prove to myself that I could make
my own choices and decisions about this. This is what I wanted,
wasn’t it? Well, serves me right. I got what I deserved.

***

My old boss, Zack at the deli, calls, so I
go visit him.

“
Fallon, I’m sorry, hon. You know I
couldn’t hold your job for you,” he says. His eyes are filled with
remorse. He’s a great guy and I know he’s being sincere.

“
It’s okay, Zack. You have a business
to run here.”

He nods. “Listen, if something opens up
here, I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

“
Great.” I give him a weak
smile.

“
Hey, you okay?” he asks.

“
Yeah. Sure.”

He’s not buying it at all. “Any luck on the
job front?”

“
Not yet. If you hear of
anything…”

“
You know I will,” he
promises.

So now I’m working as a temp at the local
medical center, writing press releases and things of that nature.
It pays minimum wage and I don’t make any tip money, so it’s been
even rougher than before. Not to mention, I hate it. Happily, my
books take me away from all this boring fuckery and I still blog on
the side with my girls.

Speaking of my girls, they all pitched in
and bought me a new cell phone. What would I do without them?

I get home from work, check my snail mail
and email, and try not to freak. Bills. I’m in a state of panic
every time I get another one. I open my computer and go straight to
my email, praying for some kind of message, telling me that I’ve
landed a real job. As I scan them, I find one from Critics Abound,
one of the most prestigious literary critique agencies.

Initially, I think it’s for a blog post, but
as I delve into it, it’s a hit from a job application I sent them.
They want to interview me next week. They’re located in San
Francisco, so I’ll need to fly out there. My heart falls through my
second story apartment and lands smack in my neighbor’s den.
There’s no way I can afford a plane ticket. My credit card is maxed
out and my savings are zapped. I’m so damn broke, I can barely
afford to eat anymore.

My first inclination is to sling my piece of
shit laptop out the front door, however I refrain. Instead, I
inhale and walk into my room to change clothes. I need to run and
get this craziness expunged from my head. I’m reaching my breaking
point, and if I don’t do something, I’m gonna scream.

So I put on my music and head on down to my
favorite spot—a quiet old neighborhood with stately homes
surrounded by large oak and maple trees—and run my legs off. The
leaves have turned and fallen, and darkness has settled on this
town, yet I don’t care. Fact is, I’m relishing in it that no one
can see me now because the tears I’ve refused to shed are now
rivulets lining my cheeks.

Anger, frustration, self-pity, doubt,
sadness and humiliation make a nasty combination of emotions, but
the release is even uglier. As I listen to one of my favorite
songs,
Sleeping Through The
Revolution
, by She Said Fire, I plod through the
streets, unaware of anything except that I need to get a grip on my
life. Something has to give or else I will. I can’t hold out much
longer. I’m just going to have to break down and beg my mom for
money. As much as I despise the thought of it, it’s the only chance
I have of getting to that interview. I think about the song and how
I need a revolution in my life right now. Maybe my mom will finally
relent and be my own revolution for once.

When I get home, I take a quick shower and
decide to make the call. Before I do, I read the email again, just
to make sure I have all the necessary information because I know
she’ll interrogate me. As I go through it again, I notice a phrase
at the end, “Please contact us immediately so we can make your
travel arrangements.”

“
Holy shit!” I’m jumping up and down,
screaming at the top of my lungs, over and over. Five minutes
later, my neighbor is knocking on my door to see if I’m
okay.

“
Never been better,” I tell her and
then I head back to my computer to compose my message.

Of course I can fly to San
Francisco for an interview. And yes, I’m available next week.
Please let me know what other information you may need from
me…
blah, blah, blah
.

Then I text all the girls to let them
know and we have a “squee” party on Facebook. I explain how at
first I didn’t think I was going to be able to go because of the
cost of travel, but then how I discovered that they were handling
that. They’re super excited for me and my spirits are soaring as
high as they’ve been for some time. My mind is running a hundred
miles an hour and I can’t sleep so I decide to reread my favorite
book ever,
Lovers Between the
Sheets.

At three in the morning, I finally turn off
my e-reader and fall asleep.

The next morning, I check my email
constantly, allowing for the time change, and around one in the
afternoon, I get a hit. It’s from Kristie Whitley at Critics Abound
confirming my interview for the following week on Tuesday. My
travel arrangements are attached in another file. I open the file
and see that I’m flying out on Monday and they’re putting me up in
a hotel for two nights. I’ll be coming home on Wednesday.

Excitement pours through me. The urge to run
home and call everyone I know almost takes over, but I’m at work
until five so I have to rein myself in. My manager smiles when I
tell her why I won’t be in next Monday to Wednesday. At the end of
the day, I rush home to call the girls live. I chat with Kat
first.

“
That is so awesome! They’re really
flying you out there?”

“
Damn straight.”

“
Holy crap, Fallon. You could be
moving to the City By The Bay.”

“
Huh?”

“
You know, that old Tony Bennett song?
My mom used to sing it all the time. Something about leaving his
heart in San Francisco.”

I harrumph. “Well, he should’ve sung
that I left mine in
Lake
Tahoe
.”

“
Yeah, but you’re on your way to a
bigger and better life. You’re gonna land this one. I just know
it.”

All the other calls go the same way, but I
can’t Skype with Andrea because of the time difference. I email her
instead and we decide to go for it on Saturday.

The only spoilsport in the whole thing is
that woman known as my mother.

“
I don’t know why you’re wasting your
time traveling out there. You’re never going to make it with a big
company like that,” she tells me. She sure knows how to make a girl
feel good about herself.

Right as I finish my uplifting call with
her, it is time to talk with my British connection. Andrea raises
me back up with her positive thoughts.

“
That bloody witch. I’ve a mind to
come over there and knock the lights out of her,” Andrea
says.

She makes me laugh.

“
You’re gonna do fantastic, now, you
hear? You go out there and blow them away.”

Yeah, my blog girls know exactly how to pump
me right up.

***

The plane lands and I head down to baggage
claim, even though I didn’t check one, because that’s where they
told me someone would meet me to drive me to my hotel. Imagine
that! I’ve never been driven anywhere like this before, so I’m
feeling very special.

The driver is standing there holding up a
sign with my name on it. It’s a bit weird, but I follow him to the
car and off we go. Even though I’m tired, my excitement fills me
and I take off for a walk around the hilly streets of San Francisco
after checking into the hotel. Other than that disastrous trip to
Vegas and then Lake Tahoe, I’ve never been anywhere outside of the
southeast. So this is a real treat for me.

My budget is minimal. No, that isn’t exactly
true. It’s nonexistent. I don’t have enough money to buy a meal,
but I can get a little something each day from a convenience store.
I’m hoping that, since my interview is scheduled for ten in the
morning, I’ll get a lunch as part of the deal.

This place is amazing. I walk and walk until
I hit the wharf. I can’t believe all the activity and restaurants.
It reminds me of Myrtle Beach back home. I giggle. All these tacky
shops that sell souvenirs and stuff are everywhere. I stop often to
take tons of pictures with my phone. Then I see a cable car and
want to jump on it, but I’m too scared because I’m afraid I’ll get
lost. I think I end up walking ten miles that afternoon into
evening.

As I’m walking past a huge bookstore, I stop
and look through the window. My forehead is pressed against the
glass as I ogle all the lovely books inside. By now, I’m sure I’m
drooling. I want so bad to walk through those doors, yet I don’t
dare because it would be torture not to be able to spend a dime.
Knowing me, I would spend the ten dollars I’ve set aside for food
on a book instead and then I’ll be starving for three days.

As I’m standing outside, staring at the
display of books in the window, I hear, “Fallon? Is that you?”

I turn to see R.T. standing there.

I grin. “R.T.! How are you?”

“
What are you doing in San
Francisco?”

“
Oh!” My hand flies to my chest
because I didn’t even think about that. No wonder she’s so
surprised to see me. “I have a job interview tomorrow with Critics
Abound.” I’m grinning now.

“
Whoa! They’re the best, Fallon. I
mean, the very best. I’m so thrilled for you.”

“
Thanks, but I don’t know. I probably
won’t get it.”

“
Don’t say that. Of course you will.
You write the best reviews ever!”

My face heats with the compliment.

“
So, where are you
staying?”

I tell her and she says, “Well, that’s not
far from here and it’s not far from where I live. I’ll walk with
you. Better yet, have you eaten?”

I’m so embarrassed about not having any
money that I tell her yes. However, right after I say the words, my
stomach lets out a humongous growl. Of course I haven’t eaten since
this morning, so I’m starved.

Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “When
was the last time you ate?”

“
Wh-what? Why?”

“
Just answer me, Fallon.”

“
This morning before I left
home.”

“
Come on. We need to catch up
anyway.”

She latches onto my arm and drags me to this
amazing restaurant where we catch up. In the middle of dinner, she
finally asks about the gray elephant sitting on my lap.

“
So, how you’ve been? And stop beating
around the bloody bush.”