‘Thanks, Carlos.’ I smiled at him.
‘There you go. Thank you. You’re beautiful.’
I was a sucker for a compliment.
Thanks, dad.
I grabbed the money and quickly shoved it in my pocket without counting it. It felt thick enough, unlike what I had to put in me that evening.
‘I’m just going to head out for the car. I’ll see you soon,’ I whispered while still tying my shoes. He wished me goodnight and closed the door behind me.
It was drizzling out, chilly. I walked quickly toward the main gate, my arse cheeks still hurting. That night didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like I was in control. I had managed to soften the blow of Sara’s birthday bill, but I had to pay a price.
CHAPTER 8
£334.44
Dominic and I had the same day off work. It just sucked that it was on a dreary, dark, rainy evening. He came over to watch Netflix and play with the pup. Both Marc and Jake had to work late, so it was the perfect chance to snoop around.
The flat had been invaded by Marc’s presence.
‘Christ, there are photos of them hanging on the walls now!’ I shouted.
One was at the Ritz, with the two of them wearing suits and looking dashing. I had the same photo with Jake. It was our first anniversary.
‘You know they actually got to stay at the Ritz?’ I asked, bitterly.
‘That shit is expensive,’ Dominic said. ‘Wonder whose cock he had to suck to get that deal.’
Like Dominic couldn’t afford it too.
Everyone but me seemed to be able to do those things, while I could barely splash on a £6 bottle of red wine, instead of the usual £4.50.
‘Have you found anything else?’ an inebriated Dominic asked from the living room.
He was wearing jersey shorts, even if it was cold outside. He wore the same outfit for most of the year, all black and comfy, oversized hoodies with slutty vests underneath.
‘Nothing juicy,’ I responded, while putting down a couple of business cards with Marc’s stupid name on them.
I loved Dominic’s company. He made me feel good and appreciated. He also bought me vegan pizza and wine every time I’d be upset or too weak to leave my bed. He was also one of the only people who wasn’t too tired of hearing me rant about Jake.
I sat on the sofa, grabbed my chalice and put my legs over Dominic’s. He liked that; he liked massaging my feet—something I found very erotic.
‘How was Sara’s birthday? Did you have fun?’ he asked.
All I could remember was the salty bill and my post-party activities.
‘It was good, but her fiancé wasn’t there. I still have to catch up with her on the matter, because I feel like they haven’t spent much time getting along since the engagement.’
Dominic removed my socks and kept massaging my feet. It felt good.
‘How are you feeling about all this?’ I wasn’t sure what he meant. ‘This is your first friend getting married, isn’t it?’
It was. I got married at twenty-six to a tiny number of friends and my mother’s ashes. Sara helped with most of the celebration expenses. She took me away to France for my stag do, and we partied, hard.
‘I’m okay,’ I responded after a long pause. I didn’t want it to be a case of being emotionally drunk. It happened way too many times.
‘Remember, you can always talk to me. I will listen to whatever, regardless of how pathetic it may feel sometimes.’
I felt soothed. Truth was, I actually had my doubts on Sara’s relationship, but I never had the courage to tell her. Alfie was erratic, immature, and at times just an awkward person to be around. Sara was the sun, an incredible force who sometimes had to dim herself in his presence.
‘I am mainly worried about how much this is going to cost me, and we are not exactly hitting department budget at work, so the idea of receiving a bonus seems quite feeble.’ I sneered.
‘Well, remember we have a private event coming up soon in the store. That might perk up the sales. And we’ll be there together, so we’ll make it fun.’ He moved my legs to get up and reached for my head. He gave me a little pat and then gave me a big kiss on the lips. ‘I’m going to grab more wine, okay?’
He took the house keys and left the flat. Meanwhile, my phone was buzzing with messages from a guy named Jimmy, from the Seeking Arrangement app. He seemed normal enough, although he wasn’t based in the UK. He was an Englishman living in Germany, employed by the government. Unlike the majority of people I’d spoken to through the app, he wasn’t a thousand years old. He was thirty-seven and didn’t look like a wild animal. We were having some nice interchanges, and he was really keen to meet.
‘Cologne is tremendously boring, so I try to get away every chance I get.’
It sounded like this was another man who liked to go away with his ‘sugar babies.’ I preferred that as well, as I didn’t want any acquaintances seeing me having dinner with all these different, much older than me, individuals. Having dinner with Martin in Gatwick, or even in Sofia, was an odd experience. I could see people at other tables looking at us, thinking we were father and son, and then being completely horrified when he would kiss me on the lips multiple times in public. Jimmy seemed different.
‘I’d quite like to get away too,’ I replied.
I drank the last few drops of wine and lay down on the sofa while petting little Squall, who was sleeping peacefully on the cold wooden floor. I had also been thinking about Dominic kissing me. I knew he had a mild crush on me, but it seemed like he was trying to get closer and closer to get physical with me.
Then my phone buzzed again. And again. I picked it up and held it far from my face as my eyesight was getting a bit blurry.
‘Paris, then?’ Jimmy was keen. ‘All paid, plus reward, of course.’
Ooh, la la.
I got back home quite late. The house was dark, except for a tiny lamp Andrew would always keep on for me, so I wouldn’t trip and break shit. I put my keys down and looked at the mail pile. One stood out as being thicker, with an embossed design all over it.
It came so soon. Sara and Alfie’s save the date. That bitch had decided on a date and didn’t tell me.
‘Sara and Alfie are getting married. First of April. Santorini. Invitation to follow.’
I only had a few months left to come up with the money. I had to step up with my extra-curricular activities. I was waiting for confirmation from Jimmy, but if all went well, I was going to go to Paris for a weekend and get £700 for it. Not too shabby.
I took a tablet of Quetiapine and went to bed immediately, too tired to brush my teeth or remove my contact lenses. A long day at work would await me in the morning.
The shop floor was decked for the event. There was a bar, a DJ, canapes, goodie bags, z-list celebrities. Sara didn’t organise this one, but she was going to come anyway to make sure everything was going right. I’d have to ensure my staff would behave like normal human beings, and not the usual bunch of running geese I had to deal with on a daily basis. Dominic and I had to dress up as well. Full black, with name tags on display, something I hadn’t worn since my first week on the job. We looked exactly like waiters. The music was loud, ideal to barely hear other people. Katherine was kissing every invitee’s arse.