Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (23 page)

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Authors: Celia T. Franklin

Tags: #Women's Fiction,Contemporary

BOOK: Having Fun with Mr. Wrong
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“Oh come on, Guid. I, I’m just trying to have fun.”

Oh crap
. Now she would slur her way through the argument. Jon appeared in the lobby. Maybe he’d talk some sense into her.

“What do we have here? Are you two lovebirds having a fight?”

“No, he just thinks he can control me all the time,” Carmala said.

“Oh, little Carmie’s drunk.” Jon put his arm around her to keep her steady. “Should we get our princess home?” he asked Guido.

“I could kill her. I caught her dancing with this Wall Street slicker she knows from work.”

Jon shook his head. “It’s nothing, Guido. Just a guy from work. You’re being a party pooper.”

“I wanted to dance with her to our favorite song. But I didn’t get to, because she was busy dancing with that dick Marc. Where the hell is his wife?” Guido yelled at Carmala.

“Boohoo, are you going to sulk like a little boy? We don’t have time for that.” Jon waved his finger at Guido, still holding Carmala with his other arm. “Tsk, tsk, you’re being a bad boy, and I might have to spank you.”

Guido cracked up laughing at Jon’s gay remark. It was charming, in a way. Jon’s sense of humor staved off another fit of anger.

“Think you can behave yourself, Guido? Can we try this again?” Jon said while making eyes at Guido.

“Ah, what the hell? Let’s order her a super-charged energy drink. That should sober her up.”

“I’ve got all the stuff you need to sober her up.” Jon winked at Guido, but Guido shook his head. Jon hooked Carmala’s arm with his right arm and Guido’s in his left. They made their way up to the VIP lounge, Jon wedged between the two of them.

Despite Guido’s initial protestations, Jon insisted that a shot of tequila would sober Carmala up. Guido gave in to Jon and allowed him to give Carmala a shot. Surprisingly, the tequila shot along with a couple of glasses of Red Bull sobered her up. But now she seemed to be
drunk straight,
talking a mile a minute. At least she was behaving. To avoid losing one another in the now overcrowded club, the three of them danced the rest of the night away.

On a dance break, Guido and Jon hammered a few tequila shots. Jon gave Carmala another half of one. They took turns spinning her and spinning each other on the dance floor. It was a fun night, overall, and Guido forgot all about the encounter with Marc.

By four in the morning, they took the limo to a Manhattan diner for breakfast. Afterward, Jon asked Eric to drop Carmala and Guido off at their apartment.

Carmala squeezed Jon’s arm. “Look, I’m going to Palm Beach for ten days. I’ll be leaving tomorrow. No, wait. I’m leaving Sunday. Why don’t you and Guido hang out together while I’m gone?”

“Sure, I can think of a thing or two we could do.”

“Yeah, we’ll go out for a couple of beers some time. You’re great fun, Jon.” Guido slapped Jon on the shoulder.

“You got it,” Jon said.

“Then, it’s settled. I’ll give your cell to Guido, and he’ll call you. Thank you so much for everything. Night now.” Carmala air-kissed Jon and stepped out of the limo.

“Nice meeting you. Had a great time,” Guido said. “See you later, man.”

“The pleasure was all mine. I’ll see you soon.” Jon waved goodbye.

Guido stepped out and clutched Carmala’s arm to help her up the stairs to their apartment. The limo drove off in the early morning light.

He loved Carmala with all his heart, yet she seemed to misunderstand his every intention. Why the hell were women so complicated? Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier to be gay; then he wouldn’t have all the difficulty with communication. Guys were more simplistic, and they spoke the same language.

Nah! That definitely wouldn’t work.

Still Carmala worried him too much, and it was more than he could bear.

Chapter Sixteen

After agonizing for countless hours, Margo had reached a monumental decision. Now she needed to discuss it with her manager, Dan.

She tapped on his partially open office door. Dan looked up from his paperwork and waved her in. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Margo took a deep breath. This was going to be harder than she’d thought. “I need to discuss an important matter. Is now good for you?”

He put a file aside and folded his hands. “What’s on your mind?”

Margo took a seat opposite him, her heart thumping hard. She needed to seize the moment, but after having rehearsed her speech, she still wasn’t sure where to start. Meanwhile, Dan raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since Timothy and I split.”

He nodded, showing requisite concern.

“I’ve had some really lucrative years in this business. But I think it’s time to take a break.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you mean, like, an extended vacation?”

“No, I’m talking about an indefinite, unpaid leave of absence.”

His eyes widened. “I see. I know a lot has changed in your life, as of late.” He hesitated. “You’re an important part of this branch. Perhaps you should take a long trip to a tropical island. I’ll bet you’d be ready to come back after a couple of weeks.”

He attempted to sound calm, but she knew panic when she heard it. The business she brought in comprised sixty percent of his bottom line. But the branch’s profitability was the least of her concern. For once, she needed to focus on herself, not the bank.

“I’ve lived and breathed this business for so long. Really, I’ve let it rule my life. And when I look at my life, it’s not what I want. I’m sorry to do this to you, Dan. I have issues to deal with and need time to consider my next steps.”

Dan nodded and let out a slow whistle of air. “You have been a leader and the foundation of our mortgage operation. And, maybe, our current challenges are a bit daunting…but remember your ship will never sink. You are the best, and you’re with the best.”

“I let that ideology blind me. Now, my personal life is nonexistent. I’ve let my marriage slip away. Even little things have gone by the wayside. I can’t remember when I last balanced my checkbook, reviewed my investments, or focused on my fitness routine. I can’t get home improvements started because I’m taking business calls every weekend. And, to be honest, the calls are a waste of time. Loan requests I can’t get approved. It’s futile to even try in this economy.”

“The market will change for the better.”

“But until it does, I do the job of everyone who was fired over the last few weeks—including my assistant’s, the processor’s, the underwriter’s.” She moved to the edge of her seat, ready to confront any objections he’d raise. Because, really, she’d had it.

“We still have a very effective processing center with experienced people. We kept our best support staff at the new center.” His phone rang. He hit the do-not-disturb button.

“Most of the transactions I’ve seen lately are dead-end deals. They’d fall through because of inspection failures, unknown liens that can’t be satisfied, uncertain buyers. The serious buyers now won’t qualify under current underwriting guidelines. By the time this industry recovers, I won’t have anything left in me.”

Dan gave her a reluctant nod. “You
do
need a break. You’ve come a long way from the bright-eyed college grad I remember. I don’t think, however, you should make any permanent decisions right now. Just take a leave of absence. Your job is still waiting here, if you want it when you come back.”

“I need to get my life back. I don’t know what that means right now. But I know I can’t duplicate what I’ve done in the past, and it’s virtually impossible to succeed in this economy. I’m done. For now.” Margo was resolute, and there was no turning back.

Dan apparently didn’t get it. His brows furrowed, and he continued to stare blankly at her for a moment.

Oh well.

“You know, Margo, you are always welcome here. I’ll support you in any decision you make. Take all the time you need. When you’re ready, you can return.” He stood up and she followed suit. He came around and gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself and stay in touch.”

****

During the first two weeks of her retirement, Margo reorganized her personal finances, filed bills, and reconciled accounts that had been unbalanced for years. She eliminated services that were unnecessary or being done poorly. She would do them herself.

She rolled up her sleeves and did laundry, housekeeping, and gardening. Margo didn’t know what she’d been paying her housekeeper to do. She discovered dust balls behind every door and piece of furniture.

But then she realized the four-thousand-square-foot house was too much for her to keep up by herself and decided to hire another cleaning service.

Rooting through her closets and drawers one day, she discovered all kinds of things: clothes, jewelry she thought she’d lost, and unopened gifts. It was like going shopping, only she didn’t have to expend the time, money, or energy usually necessary to do it.

The phone rang; the screeching sound sent alarms through her body. Who the hell could be calling her now? The call came through the house line, so it shouldn’t be work. It was just Carmala checking on her. Relief rushed through her.

Margo decided to work on her fitness routine. She hadn’t been to the gym in months, despite her decade-old membership. When she had first joined the gym, she’d purchased top-of-the-line exercise wear. Time to get the ol’ gym rags out. Only they weren’t so old. In fact, they were barely worn, and some even still had tags on them. She tried on a few outfits, posing in her full-length mirror. She looked fabulous, if she did say so herself. Okay, maybe a little overweight. But thank goodness for the spandex. It squeezed in all the fat, made her look like she had a waist an inch thinner, and smoothed the bulges. It didn’t exactly hide her imperfections, but who wouldn’t dig leopard leggings? And her boobs appeared especially big in a sports bra.

After deciding on the perfect outfit, she headed to the gym. She worked out on the treadmill at high impact and was certain quite a few guys were checking her out. But she also noticed strange stares from the other members.

It had to be because the girls were envious of her and the guys wanted her.

She checked out the clothes on the other women.
Damn
! Her gym clothes were dated. Instead of spandex, the girls at the gym were wearing yoga-style pants and long tops.

Oh well, it didn’t matter. Even though it might do her some good to get out and socialize, maybe meet some men, she absolutely wasn’t going to spend money on brand-new gym clothes. She had to save her money now. She’d just work out at home. In fact, maybe giving up the gym membership before the next monthly charge was processed to her credit card would be in order.

She had a state-of-the-art, full-sized gym right in the comfort of her own home. It was a six-hundred-twenty-square-foot workout room overlooking her rose gardens. Margo had plenty of exercise equipment including a treadmill, an elliptical machine, yoga mats, free weights, and stability balls. Plus, no wait times. Who needed a gym? Maybe she could get her trainer, Seth Jordan, to train her at home.

On her way out of the gym, she stopped to talk to Seth, who was open to the idea of training Margo at home. “I could come on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at five thirty. We’ll workout for two hours each session. I need your commitment, though, because there are a couple of other clients who want me to do the same thing.”

Margo was eager to get started. “That works for me. I’m committed.”

“Okay, I’ll finish at the gym and then come to you.”

He wasn’t bad to look at. Who knew? Maybe she’d get bootie while she was training with him.

****

Life without her cell phone Bluetooth attached to her ear like another appendage was liberating. The mere sound of it ringing made Margo cringe. If it wasn’t Carmala or Seth, who had custom ring tones, then it invariably was something to do with the handful of pending deals she’d left behind. She had a ton of calls coming in from Dan, but she usually let his calls go to voice mail.

After only a day into her leave, Dan had left several urgent messages. All about the same transaction. Despite her plan to let him handle it on his own, she’d broken down and called him. She had regretted every bit of the forty-five-minute conversation. Margo explained why she did this or how it was approved and where it was all documented in the file. Dan had finally let her off the phone. Wasn’t there a law about harassing an employee when they took a leave of absence?

Most of the calls now were from irate customers she didn’t want to hear from. She hid the cell phone; this way she wouldn’t be aware there were any calls coming in. But then she’d forgotten the hiding spot. When she found the phone again, there were forty messages. All of which were emergencies. Each voicemail contained the usual threats of never wanting to do business with her or her bank again.
Ugh!
Couldn’t they leave her alone? Maybe she could drop the cell in the toilet. Or in the pool. That might do the trick. She just wanted them to leave her alone.

Now that she’d hired a trainer, she thought she’d get help with the diet. Years ago, she had hired a nutritionist, the crazy man-eater Isabel “Izzie” Wharton. She decided to hire her again to get those extra pounds off.

Izzie sounded surprised to hear from her. “Margo. It’s been such a long time. How’s the banking business? I heard times were tough.”

“Tough enough that I finally quit!”

“I’ve been telling you, you needed to cut down your hours for some time. Otherwise, you’re going to drop dead.”

“I took a leave of absence. I didn’t quit. But I doubt that I’ll go back. When can you come by?”

“I’m free Friday, if that’s good?”

“Sure is, see you then.”

****

Izzie arrived at nine on the dot. She grazed Margo’s cheek with a quick kiss and bolted into the kitchen.

Margo chuckled to herself as Izzie whizzed past her with her bright green eyes, frizzy strawberry-blonde hair, and big, chunky jewelry. She had missed her zany friend. Izzie placed her oversized handbag, cooler—filled with diet food, no doubt—and briefcase on the kitchen table. Without a word, she opened the refrigerator and threw away condiments, fruit drinks, and even a newly purchased gallon of milk into a big green trash bag.

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