“All your accounts were closed at the same time.”
The world spun around, and I gripped the edge of his desk so that I wouldn’t pass out. “Two days ago?” He had cleaned me out and left me alone and vulnerable. “That’s not possible.”
But as the words left my mouth, I knew that it was possible. Of course, he had closed the accounts and canceled my cards. Of course, he called in the lease on my Mercedes. Tight Tammy must have brainwashed him against me. Tight Tammy had forced him to leave me destitute.
But I had something that Tight Tammy didn’t have. Make that two things. I had bosoms…real ones, and I sat up straight in the little chair at Mr. Philips’s desk with the confidence that came from a supportive undergarment, and I remembered I had a Christmas account in my own name.
“How much is in there?” I asked.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars.”
One thousand dollars for every year I was married. “Close out my account,” I told him. “Cash. I want it all in twenty-dollar bills.”
“Are you sure you want to close it? We hate to lose a devoted customer.”
I narrowed my eyes and stood, pointing at him in an accusatory manner. “Maybe you should have thought about that when you cut me off from what is legally mine without even a warning.”
I walked out of the bank with Hudson, carrying the money in a used plastic bag. “Hold on to me,” I told Hudson because I was feeling weak. He helped me back into the car, and he slipped into the driver’s seat.
“You’re getting a large dose of reality all at once,” he said. I noted a hint of compassion in his voice, but it made me upset instead of comforting me.
“Temporary reality.” I knew I would get beyond the hell I was living in. I knew Steve would come to his senses and come back to me, and even if he didn’t, I would win him back. Nothing would stop me from having the reality I wanted. Because this reality sucked sweaty, smelly balls.
“I was going to take you for your first run, but I think you’ve done enough for today,” Hudson said, starting the car.
Run? Who was he kidding? I had never run in my life. Hudson was delusional. Talk about reality? He really needed a firmer grip on reality. I took out a wad of cash from the plastic bag and handed it to him. “Give this to your aunt to replace the rubber check,” I said. “You were right about the first commandment. The new bras are perfect.”
“They’re just the beginning. Tomorrow we move on to the second commandment.”
Whatever. I couldn’t imagine what torture he had in store for me. He didn’t understand what I needed. Running? Commandments? I knew what I needed, and I counted the blocks until we got home and I could call for more Delivery Happiness.
CHAPTER 4
“Balancing on Two Wheels”
Hudson’s Camaro turned into my driveway and parked, but he didn’t turn off the engine. “Eat thirty-five grams of protein and two cups of cruciferous vegetables for lunch. Got it?” He arched an eyebrow and looked at me with his head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to read my mind. Either that or somehow I was slanted. He had gorgeous eyes—blue—with impossibly long eyelashes. It was like he had stolen someone’s hot genes so that he could have a double dose, and I worried that some poor slob was walking around hot gene-less because of Hudson.
I also wondered where his girlfriend or many girlfriends were. I figured he must have scads of girlfriends. There must have been parades of women following him, and I bet they didn’t even need good bras. I bet their bosoms stayed up as if they were in deep space.
I blinked the image of his girlfriends’ gravity-defying boobs out of my mind.
“Of course. Protein,” I said. Peanut M&Ms had a lot of protein in them, right?
I pulled at the door handle, and Hudson touched my shoulder. “Eliza, protein and vegetables. No processed garbage. We need to clean out your pipes. Promise me?”
I promised him, while I made a strong mental image of crossing my fingers behind my back. It would have to do. I didn’t want to lie to him, and I didn’t want to let him down, but I was holding my entire life’s savings in a Walmart plastic bag, I was sleeping at night on a couch in my living room, my husband was most likely having wild donkey sex with Tight Tammy, and no amount of broccoli was going to get me through this period of my life.
I stepped out of his car and shut the door, walking around to the other side. He opened the driver’s window. “I’ll see you at six-thirty tomorrow morning,” he called, as if he was telling me that I had won the Powerball and magically I was a size six. “I’ll bring the protein shakes.” He waved, and I waved back. His tone implied that he was doing me a great favor, but all I heard were vicious threats. Protein shakes? Six-thirty? He sure was devoted to changing me, and I wondered why. I didn’t think his motives were anything less than altruistic and kind, but I did wonder if my overwhelming pathetic-ness had forced his hand into giving up his life in order to give me one.
The car backed up slowly and sprinted down the street. I watched him go. It wasn’t bad having a young man drop me off at my driveway. It kind of made me feel younger, like Botox wrapped up in an environmentally irresponsible vehicle.
Vehicle.
Vehicle.
I stood in my driveway and tapped the toe of my sneaker on the concrete. Something wasn’t right. I looked around, but there was nothing there.
Nothing…
