Sour Grapes

Grapes are always the sweetest thing in fruit salad. I love strawberries but for someone reason in the most colorful melanges they never stand out. I was sitting across from Don again, in one our early morning picnics, instead this time we were on his living room floor.

I hadn’t bothered glancing in the mirror since I left home yesterday evening, I knew I wouldn’t like what I saw—yet Don was watching me as if I were Angelina Jolie covered in bronzer, ready for a photo shoot. He had grabbed what was in his pantry and refrigerator and laid it out on a low mahogany table in his living room that was probably worth a year of my rent. I picked at the fruit salad, cheese and crackers wondering who the hell keeps this stuff in their fridge?

Earlier he had disappeared behind a bookshelf to get the wine beckoning me to follow, but when I peered through the opening at the stone lined walls and curved wooden staircase something in me had revolted. A cellar? I waited at the top of the stairs for him to return.

The familiar panic kept trying to take hold all night so everytime I felt a twinge I took a sip of the sweet Gewürztraminer, rolling it over my tongue. The first time, the sensation had only made it up to my right knee, now the wine was having a hard time keeping it subdued in my belly.

I was waiting, for anything. We were just staring at each other. Finally with no end in sight I dramatically collapsed onto the pillow behind me landing on my ponytail just wrong. Reaching up I started to take my hair loose then thought better of it—some guys got off on that shit.

“Now, I just have to figure out how to drink my wine from down here.”

He still didn’t say anything, and I suddenly couldn’t control the twinge anymore but before I could sit up to make a hasty exit, Don yanked me closer to him by pulling on my extended leg. Panic screamed through every cell in my body. Run! He cupped the back of my head and leaned over me.

Jesus.

Reaching behind his back he picked up my glass and put it to my lips.

“How’s that?”

I sipped, then unable to stifle my relief started laughing. Then he kissed me, I will still laughing so his upper lip hit my teeth. In my surprise, I kissed him back but when he tugged on the waist of my jeans to nestle my legs between his, I had to stop. He was my boss, whom I really liked and I really didn’t want to ruin, I felt like I could eat him alive.

Sitting up I forced him back on his heels, but he still didn’t break contact with my mouth. When I raised my hand to push him away as gently as possible, he took my hand and threaded his fingers through mine, suddenly something broke.

When he pulled away to kiss my face, I tasted my own tears and felt like a fool. I buried my face in his shoulder, he hugged me to his chest then stood up offering his hand. I took it.

When we reached his bedroom, he simply stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed. I looked around lost, until he raised the cover on the other side of the bed. I started to climb in fully clothed. He chuckled.

Rolling my eyes, I stripped down to my panties and climbed in next to him, like a virgin I laid on my back pulling the covers to my chin. Grabbing my nearest arm he scooted me over and settled me into the crook of his arm.

“This will be the second time we’ve slept together, people are going to start talking.”

I fell asleep smiling.

North Beach Answers

I wasn’t lucky enough to simply miss my shift, instead I woke up in a tub of freezing water with Don pulling my eye open. I was so numb I didn’t even sputter. At least I wasn’t naked. I pushed myself out of the tub, rising to my full height and blinked rapidly trying to clear my eyes.

“Did I miss something?”

The water sheeted off of me then continued to drip from my clothing. Don looked grave.

“What did you take?”

“Xanax and Beer, what did you take?”

I looked around the room, no Jane, no Pricilla.

“What are doing in here?”

“I came buy to see if you wanted a ride to work, Jane and Pricilla let me in on their way out.”

“So what? You just barged in my room?”

“Yeah I barged in after knocking for ten minutes straight.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped from the tub.

Don touched my arm, his hand was warm and made me shiver.

I thought he was going to console me, to tell me life wasn’t that bad. I thought he was going to council me like he was my big brother.

Instead, he looked at his watch.

“You have ten minutes to get dressed before you make us both late.”

Damn if he didn’t almost make me smile.

Defiant to the last, I was still buzzed and didn’t want to miss an opportunity. With a great deal of effort I pulled off my clothes, in a strip tease that was anything but sexy.

When my jeans and panties hit the floor, I pushed my hair out of my face.

He kept his gaze steady, never leaving my eyes.

“What’s with the mansion in North Beach?”

He looked down.

I stomped out of the bathroom to my room, Don followed me, my dripping clothing in hand. I found the towel I discarded this morning, dried off, and proceeded to dress myself. Don stood at the doorway seemingly speechless.

“Well?” I said as I pulled my hair back into a drippy ponytail.

I looked in the mirror, “Shit.”

I brushed on some blush, a quick two coats of mascara and some fuchsia gloss and I was ready.

Don was still staring at me, make a puddle.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I grabbed my purse and walked out of the room, he followed me. When I walked out to the street the first thing I saw was the Jag. My memories were suddenly like dominoes cascading back into my consciousness.

It was parked out side the PP the day I had my interview, it was outside the night of the party—right in front of Jim’s car.

He was never trying to hide it. I turned back to where Don was locking the front door, he had gotten rid of my clothes somewhere.

As he walked down the stoop to the street he didn’t take his eyes off of mine even has he rounded to the driver’s side door—it was as if he was afraid I was going to bolt.

He opened his door and got in. I pulled the passenger door open and slid into the buttery seat. I didn’t want to touch anything.

After a couple of blocks he spoke, “It’s mine.”

“I would hope so since you’re driving it.”

“No, I mean the house is mine.”

“Uh huh, I guess I just thought you were a different person, it’s my own fault.”

“You’re serious?”

“About?” I looked at my fingernails.

“You suddenly don’t like me because I have money.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, I just don’t know you and we don’t have a whole lot in common.”

“Look, everything I have told is true, my father, everything.”

“Ok.” We were almost there so I looked out the window.

He slid into a parking spot, when I started to open the door before the car was in park he reached across me and held the door.

“Look, I am self made—ten years ago by luck I wrote some a software program that turned out to be very valuable. When an industry giant found out I had trumped them in something they were trying to develop, they offered to buy me out. My refusal sparked other companies to take notice and start making they started making offers too. Long story short, I sold out, I made a lot, bought the house, the Pink Pussy and have enough to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life…end of story.”

“Lucky bastard”

I pushed the door open and got out. My last minute entrance into the bar caused a stir with some of the regulars, who cheered.

Behind the bar, I cracked my knuckles, shook the kink out my neck and flipping a bottle of whiskey in my hand, filled three shot classes, slid them down the bar and said out loud to myself.

“Let’s get to work!”

The band took it as their cue to start playing, and as the music washed over me, I forgot about everything for awhile.