Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (7 page)

“Okay, thank you, Daniel.” I retort and sit
up in my chair, turning my attention to my computer and the email I
promised myself I was going to send today, to the Suit Master.

“Thank you for the tip, Mr. Masterson, I’ll
see you in half an hour. Now please excuse me, I have a very
important email to write.”

Without a reply, Gage stands, grabs my
completely full cup of tea and places it closer to me on my desk.
“Please, Lex, I want you to have this. I know you don’t believe me,
but I am very sorry for treating you unjustly on Saturday. It
wasn’t your fault. I was already in a terrible mood because my
ex-wife promised to call my daughter and didn’t, which left Emma
devastated. Then my long distance girlfriend never emailed me as I
had hoped. It was rude of me to have taken it out on you.”

I don’t even get a chance to respond, and
he’s out the door, shutting it behind him. Now I do kind of feel
like a jerk for lashing out, however, not bad enough to apologize.
He was very crude and hurtful. I gained two pounds eating that
ice-cream this weekend because of him and I had to do extra yoga on
Sunday and this morning to make up for the overindulgence.

Okay, so how about that email.

The last one I got was yesterday, from the
Suit Master. He basically said he was sorry I wasn’t interested and
he wouldn’t bother me again. It was composed diplomatically and
very sweet. The entire time I read it my stomach was twisted in
knots for not writing him back sooner. I’ve been a bit busy and
preoccupied in my own stuff. To be honest, the more I think about
the possibility of dating I get somewhat excited. Then, I take into
consideration all my partner would have to give up or endure in
regards to my past. And reality smacks me in the face, leaving the
prospect of dating a messy emotion that renders me ill.

From: Lotionlady316

To: Suitmaster6979

Dear Suit Master,

Sorry I’ve taken so long to write. You were
right in your first email stating I would probably want to delete
that message and run. Although, you should know your email stuck
with me all of last week. So, I have given in and decided to write
back. Please don’t take my lack of eagerness personally. I didn’t
start this dating online fiasco until my best friend nagged me into
it. It’s new to me and it’s intensely overwhelming. I can see how a
woman or a man could easily be objectified based on looks. I
couldn’t tell you how many emails I have received this week, with
the same distaste that I am sure you have experienced yourself.
Your emails have given me hope in the male race. It’s refreshing to
know not all of you are shallow perverts who think women want to be
greeted with a penis picture.

I’m elated to hear you are an Edgar Allen
Poe fan, too. He isn’t my favorite literary writer, but he is among
some of those I deem greater than most. I can’t decide if it’s his
dark, yet grim beautiful take on things or something else entirely
that has made me love him since I began reading his works in
grammar school. I’ll never forget the first time I read The
Tell-Tale Heart; it was unique and piqued my interest from the
first sentence.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to
say in these things. You are my first correspondent on this site.
Would you like to tell me Suit Master, what it is you do for a
living? Is the dog in your profile picture yours?

I guess this is enough to start with. I
don’t want to ramble.

Sincerely – Lotion Lady

Rereading through my honest, yet composed
email, I send it off and it’s time to put my big girl panties on
for the up and coming fiasco in the boardroom. Where I will be
officially debating my company’s innocence in regards to this
stupid matter of being sued.

“My dear, Lex, what is the matter?” Dolly
with her over the top poofy head of dyed curly red hair asks,
coming to sit next to me in one of the four booths inside the Dairy
Dream. Wrapping her arm over my shoulder for comfort, she pulls me
into an awkward side hug, against her fluffy body. She’s a rather
large woman. In an adorable, sweet, can’t help but love her, kind
of way.

“I’m fine.” I mope, leaning into her warming
side embrace.

The restaurant door opens with a creak and I
glance up to see—
him
. The most awful man on the planet and
tailing right behind him is Corey. I’m not sure what I should refer
to him as. Cute? Sweet? I don’t quite know. I haven’t heard from
him since our date on Saturday, not that I’ve expected to. Although
it does seem a bit odd that they would both be here for lunch, I
come here quite often and I can’t recall a time either one of them
have dropped in.

“Janet we have customers, and I’m sitting
with Lex.” Dolly yells to gather the teenager Janet’s attention.
Dolly hires mostly young college students to man the facilities,
besides herself of course.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Janet approaches the window
that separates the front customers from the back.

Trying to ignore the eyes that I know are
plastered on me, I close mine and let Dolly hold my head against
her. Patting and slightly rocking me. The only thing that’s missing
would be a ‘there, there.’

“You going to tell me what happened?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to worry her
with my work nonsense. Even though that work crap is going to cost
me three million dollars to settle outside of court. The meeting
today was a bunch of showboating and over exaggerating, leaving me
to sound like a dirty little whore who fucked my way up the ladder
in life to get men to sign documents. That’s how nasty ol’ Mr.
Masterson explained it. And that woman that came with them, wow,
what a piece of work, I tell ya. She had feminism written in big
bold letters all over her. There is one thing to work in the league
with men and another to dress and look like one. And here, I
thought Roni was bad. Not even close. Plus, her showboating
contained lots of name drops of who she’s met and knows, like it
was supposed to intimidate me. It didn’t. It just made me realize
how much I love being a girly girl with a firm head on my
shoulders. I don’t know what I’d do if I was a corporate stooge
like those clowns.

I’ve been given until Friday to make my
choice, whether I should sign and give away three million. Or take
it to court and open my company up to a bunch of felonious
accusations that could possibly deter future customers from selling
my products. I can’t decide which is worse. Falsely paying money
for something I know I didn’t do, or being dragged through the mud.
There’s no winning, either way.

Oh…and here’s the kicker of it all. The
company still wants me to supply their stores. This is a lawsuit
based on a personal matter not the contract itself. They’re fine
with that. I think this is the formal way to have a corporate
temper tantrum when I don’t give them what they want. I know it
happens. I just never thought it might backfire and I’d be the one
getting fucked in the ass with no lube.

“It’s just crappy work stuff, Dolly, don’t
worry about it. It’ll blow over eventually. I just wish it was the
weekend already so I can relax at home and watch
White
Chicks
another thirty times.” I whine. I know I sound like a
big baby, but my feelings are hurt.

It’s my company and I can mope if I want
to.

Janet bouncily comes out from behind the
counter, her curly blonde hair swaying from side-to-side, bringing
me a thick chocolate peanut butter shake and a basket of onion
rings. I already had a salad, but I’m still hungry. It’s time to
eat my feelings again.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, thank them.” She points to
Corey and Gage sitting across the small room at another booth. I’m
trying not to pay attention to them. But I can feel them looking at
me and I know they’re talking about me, because they’re whispering.
It’s high school all over again.

Kissing me with bright red lipstick on my
forehead, Dolly retreats back to the back, and I’m left with Dolly
lips perfectly imprinted on my forehead. It’s a badge of honor
people wear out of here, if she loves you. It’s not as bad as it
seems. Although it will take some serious scrub time to get the
stain off my skin once I leave here.

Deciding I’m not eating the guilty, bribe of
food. I grab the basket of onion rings and the white Styrofoam cup
as I slide from my booth and confidently stride over to them,
nothing like confronting your worst enemy face-to-face.

“Hey, Lex.” Corey smiles, chewing on a fry.
Corey is an architect and I heard rumors he had started working for
Archie. That’s Archer McDougal’s nickname, he’s in his early
forties and runs a small architectural firm on the outskirts of
town. They work mainly with country homes and barns, and yes,
rhyming once again with his company name. Please don’t make me tell
you everyone in this town because it wouldn’t be pretty and the
amount of rhyming stores would put you off. I love it.
Outsiders…not so much.

“Hi, I don’t want your food. I’m sorry.” I
slide it to Corey.

“It’s not from me.” He points a fry at Gage.
“It’s from him.”

Well isn’t that just dandy of him? Inserting
internal eye roll here.

“I’m sorry about the meeting, I know it was
brutal.”

Apologizing to me? Are you flippin’ serious?
And the worst thing is he sounds like he might actually mean it.
How stupid is that?

“Brutal for who? You or me? I don’t recall
anyone calling you a whore.”

“I didn’t call you a whore.”

Great come back genius —not!

“No, not that
exact
word. But you did
it in your fancy schmancy lawyer lingo. Which is much worse.”

It’s true, when someone calls you a whore,
you’re a whore. Point blank. However, when you do it with lawyer
talk, it takes four sentences with descriptions and big words, to
end up with the same conclusion. You know it’s true.

Lawyer man slouches in his seat, with a deep
frown, and now he refuses to look at me. Corey is chewing away on
his burger and fries, all smiles and light chitchat. Not sure what
to say and knowing I got my point across, I dismiss myself and head
to the counter and say goodbye to Dolly.

With my hand on the door to leave, Corey
turns to me. “I hope we can get together soon. Not this weekend but
maybe the next, my daughters will be with their mothers then and
I’d love to try and make up for what happened on Saturday.” His
eyes dart straight to Gage with that last statement.

“Sounds good.” I mutter and leave without
sparing a moment’s glance at Gage, the too hot for his own good,
jackass.

Strolling back into my office after that
disastrous lunch, my stomach’s angry with me. It seems as though it
always acts that way around Gage. Daniel must be out to his own
lunch because he wasn’t sitting at his desk when I arrived moments
ago.

Plopping down in my chair, tugging off my
heels and setting them on the floor next to my desk, I tug the clip
out of my long hair. It’s relaxation time. Clicking the music
remote on my satellite in office radio, I’m welcomed with my
favorite station. Old school country music permeates the air with
the likes of Patsy serenading me with
Crazy
, one of my
all-time favorite country songs.

Humming and tapping my barefoot on the floor
to the music, I scoot my chair up under my desk and move my mouse
to wake up my computer. I’ve got end of the month reports due that
I have to look over. Research on what’s the next color of lipstick
we are going to produce and free my email from clutter.

Looks like someone by the name of Suit Master
happened to email me back. I giggle and blush like a giddy teenage
girl as I excitedly open his email. I can’t believe he got back to
me so fast!

From: Suitmaster6979

To: Lotionlady316