Victor: Friday at 8? Dinner and shenanigans? I’ll leave the mask at home.
Me: I can’t Friday. Saturday?
Victor: Saturday it is.
I set my phone down and continued dressing for the day. I was available on Friday, but I didn’t want Victor knowing I was that pathetic. Aside from Lisa, I didn’t have any friends, and I had no life. Mike, the guy I’d met for coffee, had been friendly enough—until he asked me if I would make a good housewife. I’d somehow left that part out when Victor asked me how that date went. It had gone great up until that point.
Who asks a woman if she would make a great housewife? What exactly was he planning for me? Did he think I was going to quit my job and spoon-feed him? Maybe wash his dirty underwear and iron his work pants?
That was the quickest ghosting I’d ever done.
I had only been in the dating world for a few weeks, and I already wanted back out of it. I had wanted to scream, This is why you’re single, from the rooftops within the first few minutes of chatting with men on the dating apps. I couldn’t keep up with how many jerks, perverts, creeps, and weirdos I’d come across. The only one—the only one—who was even remotely worthy of my time was Victor.
Ugh! I hung my head.
I had two minor events I’d been working on besides the Beaumont circus. One event was a bar mitzvah, and the other was a client appreciation party for a local business. These smaller gatherings were usually a piece of cake. There were never any outlandish requests, such as bats and coffins. Everything so far had been routine—food, music, cake.
The simpler events usually didn’t pay me nearly as well as Victor’s parties, but if I worked enough of them, I could stash away more cash for a down payment for my own place. Lately, I had scouted homes in Lakeview and fallen in love with two of them. They both had actual yards, something I hadn’t had since living with my parents. I wanted a yard, garden, and peace. If I only had a little bit more money stashed away, I would be able to put my down payment down and hopefully move into a home before the end of the year. I was counting on the circus to fund my dreams. This circus needed to be the biggest and most badass event yet.
“Squawk! Sookie-sookie,” the fuck parrot called from the other side of the wall.
My neighbor had had a new visitor stay over last night. He was so predictable. First came the stupid parrot’s chants. Then came the bedsprings squeaking, and then the headboard would start to hit the wall, followed by more chants from the parrot and too-loud-and-close-for-comfort dirty talk from the neighbor. Sometimes, it was a turn-on, but mostly, it put me in a pissy mood because it woke me up.
Thankfully, he didn’t last too long in bed because after about eight minutes—yes, I had watched the clock—he would let out a, “Hurrah,” and then there would be silence, and I could fall back asleep.
I always felt sorry for whatever woman he was banging. He must have been a shitty lay because the women never made much noise. The parrot was louder. I had learned early on after living next to them that I needed to buy a white noise machine. I kept it on all day and night, but with these paper-thin walls, it didn’t make much of a difference.
“Squawk! Bend over. Squawk!”
“I am so out of here,” I muttered to myself as I grabbed my keys and left for work.
Lisa and I shared a tiny, windowless office downtown. Our cracker box, as we liked to call it, was in the back of a building that smelled of mothballs and shoe wax. Lisa rarely made it into the office. She did most of her work from home because it was easier for her children. But I needed a space away from home to work.
“Hey you! What are you doing here today? Getting ready for the big circus meeting next week?” I asked Lisa, who was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands.
“Oh. Hey. My mom’s dealing with the kids today. They were driving me batshit crazy. I dropped them off at her place last night, polished off a bottle of wine, and slept like the dead. Now, I’m here, trying to get everything lined up for Dicktor’s big bash.”
I wanted to tell Lisa that Dicktor wasn’t so bad, but how would I explain that I knew that? I couldn’t exactly tell her I was banging him. Wasn’t that against some kind of rule? She might claim I was getting special treatment or something even though I didn’t think she would be the type to do that. I had come too far in my career to risk it.
“It’s going to be ridiculous, but maybe we’ll get those fat bonus checks again. I’m counting on it, so I can finally move out of my apartment and out toward Lakeview.” I opened my laptop and began scrolling through my e-mails.
“You’ll get there. Your apartment is a prime location. It will sell fast.”
“I sure hope so. I want to sign a contract on a home as a Christmas present to myself.”
“Well, surely, Dicktor will pay us a big bonus for the holidays alone. Have you heard from him much? He hasn’t asked me for anything lately! It’s weird.” She chewed on the end of her pen and leaned back in her chair.
“He’s been pretty quiet about it all. Even Sara has been quiet.” I shrugged.
“Uh-oh. That sounds fishy. So, you’re telling me you thought of the tigers, and that wasn’t his idea? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe. Just a bit. It was all me. I figured he would like it. You know how he is. Go big or go home!”
“He might be going home in a body bag after a tiger has had enough of his crap.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. I’ve got plenty of handlers booked and only three tigers. We’ll survive. I think.” I double-checked my contracts, making sure I wasn’t lying about the handlers.
“You sure do have a creative brain, kid. I’m glad that’s all you. I’ll just stay back, barking orders to the chefs and vendors—the usual. I’m not getting my head chewed off by a tiger! My kids get on my nerves, but I still have to be around to tie their shoes and wipe their snot!”
“I got it; I got it. Hey, the bar mitzvah, did you get the band scheduled on that one? I never heard back from them.”
“Got it, sister.” She nodded and closed her laptop. “I’ve been here since six. The sun wasn’t even up yet when I woke. I think I’m going to go home and catch a nap before my mom drops the kids back off.”
I said good-bye as I watched Lisa drag her feet out the door. I continued to work, scheduling calls, meetings, and tigers. My head was in my comfort zone—busy—when a notification crossed my screen. Sara wanted to add me on Facebook. This couldn’t be good. If I denied her, it would be awkward, but if I added her, she could see my personal life. Not that I had a personal life, but I didn’t want to have to mix business with what little life I had. Plus, what she had done to Victor’s ex made me nervous. What would she do if she knew I was banging her dream husband?
I scanned my profile for anything that stood out as terrible and hit Accept. Friend, my ass, I thought.
I clicked on her profile and scrolled through her pictures. Most of them were from her wonderful life at work. She had an obnoxious amount of posts about how much fun she had been having and how she was so blessed to have this opportunity, blah, blah, blah. But I knew her. I knew she’d had a terrible and stressful time at a lot of those events.
“Typical Fakebook,” I said, rolling my eyes.