Hooked

James looks up at the squealing of the breaks, and I’m paralyzed. I realize that I look like a crazy person, parked in the middle of the street for no reason. I slowly let off the break, roll forward, and turn into the driveway. I stall for a minute, fishing around in my purse for some invisible item, trying to pull my head together.

I take a deep breath and pop open the door. “James, what are you doing here?”

He stands. “I need to talk to you.”

I look up above me. Did I miss something? Do I have a giant sign on my head that tells all my ex-boyfriends I’m available to chat whenever they feel like it?

In all fairness, it worked out pretty well with Brandon, but seriously? This is getting ridiculous.

“I don’t really have time today. I have a lot to do,” I say.

Like napping…

“Please, Charity. Hear me out.”

I exhale sharply. “Okay.”

I’d feel guilty sending him away when he drove all the way here to see me.

“Your mother called me,” he says. “She’s worried about you.”

“She what?” I yell as I slam the car door shut behind me.

“Calm down. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm,” he says.

“Like hell she didn’t!” I burst out a hollow, humorless laugh. “This is her version of an intervention. Why she would send you is beyond me, but that’s not the point!”

“She didn’t
send me
here, Charity. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I’m not her messenger boy, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says, his voice getting testy.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Then what? Why are you here?”

“I think we should talk. I have some things I need to tell you.”

“About me moving? No offense, but I hardly see how that’s any of your business at this point.”

“Wait, what?” He looks confused. “You’re moving?”

I’m speechless. What is going on here?

“Where are you moving?”

“Hold on, let’s rewind. What
exactly
did my mom tell you?”

“She said you were having a hard time with our breakup, and that you wanted to talk, now that you’ve had some time. I would have called but thought this would be better in person. Although, now, I’m beginning to feel like I have no idea what I’m talking about…” His voice trails off. His eyes are searching mine, his expression still confused.

I bury my face in my hands and let out a frustrated growl. “Look, I’m sorry. I have no idea why she called you and dragged you into all this. She doesn’t approve of my choices lately.”

“Where are you going?” he repeats.

“California, LA to be more specific. Brandon, my ex-fiancé, and I are back together now, and I’m moving there to be with him next week.”

James looks at me with sudden realization—a mix of surprise, confusion, and a hint of anger. It’s very clear that he pictured this entire conversation going differently.

“Wow.” He pauses and stares me down, like he’s a human lie-detector. “Guess you move fast, huh?”

Something in the tone of his voice sets me on edge; the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I clench my fists, holding back the urge to slap him.

“James, just leave. You’re wasting your time,” I dropped my arms and went around him and marched up the stairs.

“Were you sleeping with him the whole time we were together? Or just part of it?”

“Fuck you, James,” I stop fiddling with the doorknob and fling back around to look at him.

He holds up his hands, as if he is surrendering. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m just putting two and two together. Last thing I know, you practically bolt out of a restaurant at the mere suspicion of a proposal, but now you’re willing to move a thousand miles away to be with this dude, who you claim has only been back in the picture for six weeks?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I never slept with him while you and I were still together.”

He scoffs. “Really?”

“James, go home. Don’t bother coming around again because I won’t be here.” I turn back to the door and turn my key in the lock.

“I offered you the life you always wanted—a home and a family. You’re trading all that in to be some guy’s arm candy,” he says to my back. He lets out a cold, hollow laugh before adding, “Good luck with that. Don’t call me when it crashes and burns.”

“Why are you even here?” I can practically hear my blood pressure rising inside me. “For someone who claimed to love me, you have certainly had some questionable things to say to me the last few times we’ve spoken. If I’m such a pathetic loser, then why are you even here trying to get me back?”

“I’m not.” He shakes his head as if in disbelief. “Tell your mother to lose my number. This was a complete waste of my time.”

He spins on his heel and storms off to his car. I release my breath in a whoosh once he slams the door.

***

“Seriously? He is unbelievable!” Ashley says when I finish telling her about my conversation with James.

As predicted, the next day Ashley called, wanting to go shopping with me to get some new ’California-approved’ outfits, so we took the afternoon to go shopping in the city.

“I know. I don’t know whether to call her or just not even dignify it with a response,” I say.

“I’d drop it. You know it’s not going to do any good to question her about it, unless you want to sit through another round of the ‘but James is so perfect’ lecture,” she says with a laugh.

“Yeah, a perfect asshole. Talk about a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde situation. Yikes!”

“What about this?” Ashley interrupts, holding up some kind of jumper/romper thing in a splotchy floral print.

I wrinkle my nose at her. “Really, Ash? It’s like you’ve never even met me…”

“Fine,” she huffs, stuffing it back onto the rack. “You know what your problem is Charity?”

“Enlighten me.”

“You leave no room to experiment. To see where the winds will take you!”

“Well, the winds of fashion will never take me there, so let’s just move on.” I roll my eyes.

She laughs. “Fine, fine, no rompers.”

We work side by side through the racks, alternating as one holds up an outfit and the other gives a nod of approval or varying faces of disgust. Somehow, along the way, it dissolves into a competition to see who can find the most atrocious article of clothing, and we are both cracking up laughing by the time Ashley marches me off to the fitting rooms. She sets up camp on one of the couches outside and waits, insisting that I come out in between each outfit change to get her final verdict.

Alone in the dressing room, I stare at my smiling face in the mirror, and it hits me just how much I am going to miss Ashley when I move. The day is rapidly approaching and I’ve spent the past week so tangled up in the details and logistics, I haven’t had time to really let it all sink in. Everything is going to change.

My smile fades as I think about it, and a flash of self-doubt crosses my mind. I try to shake it off, as I wiggle into the first outfit and plaster my smile back on as I go out to show Ashley the first look.

“Charity, that is stunning!” she says, admiring the strappy black dress I’m wearing. “A definite contender for your go-to LBD. Every girl needs one.”

“LBD?”

She rolls her eyes. “Little black dress.”

I spin and look at the back in the three-way mirror. “Remind me to hit up the shape wear department before we go,” I mutter. There’s nothing quite like a dressing room mirror and florescent lights to bring all your insecurities raging to the surface.

“Oh my word, don’t be crazy!” she says. “You look amazing!”

I smooth my hands along the front of the dress. “So I take it this one’s a keeper?”

She nods. “Yup! Next please!”

I pop back into the dressing room just in time to hear my phone vibrate in my purse. I pull it out and smile when Brandon’s name and picture flash onto the screen.

“Hey!” I answer.

“Hey beautiful, whatcha doing?”

“I’m at the mall with Ash,” I answer. I prop the phone on my shoulder and start unzipping the dress.

“Finding anything good?”

“Well so far, I have a new pair of jeans, a new purse, and I think we just decided on a LBD,” I say, trying to wow him with my new fashion vocab.

“Any chance I can get a sneak peek pic?” he asks. I can just picture his mischievous grin. “You always look smoking hot in black……”

“How do you know what an LBD is?” I ignore his picture request.

“Doesn’t everyone know that?” he says with a laugh.

Apparently not everyone.

“Now about that picture…”

“I’ll send you one picture, then you wait and see the rest in person,” I tease. “It’ll be more fun that way, I promise.”

“Fair enough. You get whatever you want, and I’ll wait patiently for you to get here and model it all for me,” he says, sending a little shiver down my spine as my mind wanders through his scenario, one that ends with us tangled together on the floor of a walk-in closet…

“Cherry? You still there?” he asks, interrupting my vivid daydream.

I blink away the mental picture and focus on his words again. “Yeah, I’m here. You’ll have to wait and see how much of this makes it down there with me. I don’t want to get too carried away. My credit cards have very little breathing room as it is,” I say, setting the dress aside after glancing at the price tag.

“Ashley didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“About our little surprise,” he says. “She called it the ultimate
Pretty Woman
moment.”

“You want me to be a hooker?” I joke.

He laughs. “No, I just mean you don’t have to pick up the tab. Go crazy baby, it’s on me.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“No it’s not. We’re together now. I want to take care of you. Besides, I’m the reason you have to buy a whole new wardrobe. It really is the least I can do to help make the move as easy as possible for you.”

I shake my head in disbelief, but I’m smiling like an idiot. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It is, and you’re welcome.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“I miss you.” I suddenly wish he was here so I could kiss him.

“I miss you too, baby. You’ll be here before you know it,” he answers. “Now, go shop till you drop. Tell Ashley thank you for me, and make sure she picks out something for herself too.”

“That could be dangerous,” I laugh. “But I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hesitate for a moment before hanging up, not wanting to let him go, but also fighting the urge to be one of those ‘you hang up,’ ’no, you hang up’ kind of couples.

I click off the phone and snap a quick selfie of the back view of the dress, arching my back to accentuate my ass. Satisfied, I send the picture to Brandon and then toss the phone back in my purse. I hear it vibrate but don’t pick it up again, knowing that I’ll only get sucked into a text conversation and I need to get going if I’m ever going to make it through the three dozen outfits Ashley is going to force upon me.

I quickly slip on the next dress and go out to find Ashley. She’s not sitting on the couch anymore. I glance around and spot her sorting through a nearby table of sweaters. She looks up when I approach her. “That looks great too!”

“When were you going to tell me that Brandon is paying for everything?”

“Oh, right about the time you started fussing over how much things cost.” She laughs. “Did he call you?”

I nod and laugh too. “He’s crazy.”

“You have no idea,” she says.

I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

She leans in close to me and whispers, “He gave me a ten thousand dollar gift card. You know, one of those pre-loaded credit card things.”

I gasp and feel my eyes pop open. “Ten thousand dollars?”

“Uh huh,” she confirms.

“Wow,” I breathe, absolutely stunned.

“You’re in the major leagues now, my dear,” she says with a giggle.

“He does realize I could
never
spend that much money on clothes, right?”

“Oh, never say never!” She winks and starts to drag me back to the dressing rooms.