Chapter 13
Melinda
“Chris turned down every theme I had for the New Year's gala,” I told Lindsey over the phone as I sipped my coffee at the Bean Stalk.
“I still can’t believe this is Chris Bates. The Chris Bates that you told me about in college.”
“He wasn’t anything. Just some mean jock.”
“Mmhm,” she said, not believing me. “Well, is he still hot?”
“Lindsey, I’ve told you this, I haven’t even bothered thinking of him like that.”Liar. It was all you thought about.
“Right,” she drawled out. “Well, listen. You keep telling yourself that so you can sleep better at night, and I’ll talk to you later, okay? I have to get to work.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, catch you later.”
I slid my phone into my back pocket and glanced around the coffee shop, trying to see if I couldn't figure out a theme Chris would like. It was crunch time, and if he turned down my next one, he could plan it for all I cared.
“If you think any harder, that blonde hair of yours is going to turn a different color, doll.”
I smiled around the rim of my coffee mug. I knew that voice. I turned around to see Esther—my soon-to-be landlady—surrounded by two other ladies.
“Esther, I thought you were traveling.”
“Not without my best bitches,” she said, and all three of them placed their coffee cups on the table, took off their lids, then waited as Esther put her hand in her purse and pulled out a small bottle of Bailey’s.
Now, there is an idea.
Before I could run with it, Esther poured the contents of the bottle into the cups. All three of them were giggling like they were bad girls breaking the rules. I loved it. “Are you going to introduce me?”
“Mags. Barbara−Jean, this is the little doll who rented from me—Melinda.”
“The whore?” Mags, if I could remember, asked, sliding on bright red lipstick on her withered lips.
Esther rolled her eyes. “No, not that one. That was a different one.”
I held out my hand and shook each of their hands. “Hi, Mags, Barbara. I'm Melinda. I’m not a whore, I may add.”
They all laughed. Mags was short with silver hair—one side was shaved. Barbara seemed more wholesome and wrinkled her nose at the word whore as if it would send her to hell, but as she chugged her drink, I knew she wasn't as wholesome as she looked. At least not in that way.
Esther still had on her plush purple robe and curlers. I couldn’t wait until I got to the age where I didn’t care. “So, the floors have been delayed. Since you wanted that fancy shit.”
I rolled my eyes. “It isn’t fancy. It’s bamboo. It’s eco-friendly is all.”
“Fancy. This isn’t the city, doll.” She pulled a cigarette out of her hand and tried lighting it, but the lighter kept failing.
“Hey! Yo! Esther. You can’t be smoking in here. I told ya’ that last week. And the week before. And the week before that.” An older man came running from behind the counter and grabbed the cigarette from her wrinkled hands. “I told you not to smoke in here. Smoking is going to kill ya’, Esther. And I don’t want clients dying on me. It’s bad for business.”
Mags and Barb gathered around me, and we all sipped our drinks as we watched the scene before us unfold.
“Bobby,” Esther started to say, but he took the lighter from her too. Her eyes hardened, staring at him with a vengeance. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Bobby.”
“Ladies don’t smoke, Esther. This is my business. No smoking is on the door. If you don’t like it, don’t come here.”
“Aw, Bobby. When are you going to stop dancing around this and ask me out?” Esther tried to grab her cigarette back and he pulled it right out of her reach.
