I settle down on my bed to redraft my resume so it will fit the company's structure. I guess I need to update a few of my bullet points too since fashion will not be a part of this job, nor do they likely care about my passion for that industry.My dream is fading into the distance.
The sound of a knock on the door and muted conversation ensues down the hall, and I'm curiousto find out what Layla is doing. I've never been a fan of her sporadic ideas, but she doesn't bring other people into the chamber of her craziness, so this must be something different.
I try to refocus my attention on the research I'm making notes on, but the sound of a familiar laugh draws my attention away from everything in my bedroom.Is that? No way. She knows I'd kill her.
The laugh echoes again, and I'm positive I recognize the sound. I open the door and charge through the hall, spotting Wesley sitting in front of Layla's computer alongside her. “You must be kidding," I say out loud, as a general blanket statement toward them both.
“Hey, I didn't think you were here," Wesley says, making his statement sound uncaring and casual, which is cool considering he stopped talking to me a week ago after a nice night of tongue tangoing that led to him falling asleep on top of me. Oh, and then, he made me feel so torn up over the situation I didn't intend to cause with his career, which brought me to where I actually shed a tear while thinking I blew my chance after finding a good guy. Then, low and behold, like the other men I've attracted in the past, he picked up and ran off too just as I suspected he would.
“I can leave if you'd rather it be that way," I say, doing nothing to hide the anger in my voice.
“No, you don't have to leave," he says, without blinking. “You live here, silly."
Silly? I'm silly? He's sitting in my apartment with my roommate, telling me it's okay to stay, and I'm silly. Yeah, that's what I thought. “Right, well, enjoy yourselves," I tell them, turning back for my room.
“Wait, didn't Layla tell you what we were doing?" Wesley asks as I'm walking away.
“No, and I don’t care, but if I were you, I’d be careful about what you agree to with Layla.”
“Whoa!” Layla shouts after me. “Not cool, Mads. What have I done to you?” It would take me way too long to list the shitty things she’s done to me.
I don't care to know what they're doing. In fact, I don't want to hear anything more from either of them which makes it easy for me to close myself into my bedroom. If I didn't just get a potential job offer, I might feel sorry for the shitty turn my life has taken in the last couple of weeks, but I'm holding my shit together right now because I took my situation and controlled that shit.
I throw myself back into my bed and slap my laptop shut before lowering it down to the ground. What an ass. I don't think I can live with Layla for much longer either. This is all too much.
I close my eyes and try to push away the painful thoughts running through my head. Men don't like independent women. They don't like women who play hard to get, they don't like easy women, and they don't like me. What is it about me that makes men run for the hills? At the moment it could be the way I look, but he didn't see me like this until the last time he was here. He is a model, so my natural, and slightly dirty appearance could be a disappointment to him, but if that's the case, he's shallow, and I don't want that, anyway.
The living room has been quiet for a while before a knock on my door startles me into opening my eyes. I ignore the questionable greeting. If it's Layla, she'll walk inside anyway. After years of living together, privacy isn't a thing here.
The door does, in fact, open, but it's not Layla, so I pull the covers up above my head and turn over to face the window. There isn't one part of me that wants to talk to Wesley, and I don't want him to see me, or try to make anything better.
The sound of rustling of material and a dip in my mattress forces my gaze to dodge around the room, while wondering what's going through his head. The bed shifts again and his arm wraps around my body. His lips press against my neck, then his head rests on my shoulder. “What are you doing?"
“Holding onto you."
“You're not allowed to," I tell him. He's clothed, but his shoes are off, which explains the thuds.
“Yes, I am. I wasn't lying to you last week, Maddy, I was under strict orders by my attorney who told me not to contact anyone associated with your company. She told me not to text you at all, but I felt like I had to give you something at least. Lacto Natural Central dropped the charges at seven this morning, so I'm no longer in a hostage situation, nor do I have to fear every word I mutter out loud."
The attorney again.I should have figured she had something to do with his disappearing act. “Oh," I tell him. I trust what he's saying, but in my head, I figured there was another way to make his feelings a little clearer on what was happening. However, my emotions might have impeded that too.
“I was planning to come over here today to meet with Layla for a business idea she had because it wasn'trelated to you, and our conversations stated that you would not be home, in case anyone has access to my messages."
I sigh and drop my head into my hand. “Wesley, I realize you don’t know Layla all that well, but her ideas could end up causing you more issues. You should be cautious while making plans with her.”
Wesley is nodding his head as if he has already considered this thought. “Yeah, I realize this seems out of the blue, but my agent told me to lay low and find something else to pay the bills until this situation dies down. I have nothing else on my resume to support other types of jobs at the moment, so I’m nervous and a little desperate.”
“Desperation isn’t always worth shooting yourself in the foot, but you two seem to have an actual business deal going on, so I’ll stay out of it,” I tell him. I realize my responses and lack of eye contact might be an oversensitive reaction, but then, this whole thing between us has been confusing and messy. I don't what to think right now.
“We kind of figured things out. She offered me a temporary position that will hopefully get me through this time.”
“Well, that’s good. What is the position she’s hiring you for?” I can only assume he will be Layla's new escort, but for the women paying a premium.
“Our conversation hasn’t gotten that deep yet, so I’m not entirely sure what the job is,” he says.
“What? Are you crazy? You can’t agree to something you have no information about? Look what just happened to you.”
“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he argues quietly.
