“Come on, they’re not that bad! I love those girls and Marcus. They’ve been my friends forever.”
“I don’t have to like them or sit with them and try to keep my dinner down.”
“You have to come tonight. We’re celebrating the radio interview.”
I crawled on top of him wearing only a pair of red panties, and kissed a trail down his chest, stopping at the elastic of his briefs.
“Zak, come on. This is important to me. I want all my favorite people together for one night.”
He stared down at me as I popped Mr. George out and began caressing him with my tongue, kissing his head in preparation of devouring him completely.
“Fine, I’ll go.” He pushed me off of him and sat up on the edge of the bed. “You’ll owe me big time for this. And it’s only dinner, right? No hanging around for dessert or drinks afterward.”
“Oh, come on! You know how horny chocolate and martinis make me!” I pressed my body to him again, this time my tongue making circles on the back of his neck.
He stood and I almost fell on the ground. He walked to the closet, thumbing through his shirts again. “No distractions. I want to get there as soon as possible, so we can get it over with and leave.”
“Fine, but you don’t need to be an ass about it!”
Zak could be a real jerk sometimes, though I guiltily admit it turned me on.
“I want to be home and in bed early anyway. I have a meeting with Val tomorrow morning and at ten I have a massage appointment.”
I walked over to my closet. The door opened and my clothes looked ready to burst out at me. One pull of the wrong hanger could lead to an eruption of silk and cashmere that would bury me alive. My mind began to wander, thinking I should call the interior designer Marcus used for his apartment. For my own safety, I needed a complete re-organization of my closet space.
“What are you doing tomorrow? A massage?” Zak asked as I flipped through my wardrobe. “What kind?”
“Should I wear this or this?” I asked holding up two entirely different wrap dresses.
“They look the same to me. Just pick one. What about this massage now?”
I continued flipping through my closet. “Oh, it’s one of those hot rock massages. They’re supposed to be completely relaxing. And I think my back’s a little out of whack, so I could really use it. Remember that yoga class I told you about? That evil Nazi-woman instructor who had us contorted all funny? I don’t think the human body is meant to bend quite that way. It wasn’t even a good sex pose!” I pulled out a royal blue tank dress with a plunging neckline. Loved the way it made my boobs look. “But anyway, I might have a facial and manicure while I’m there too.”
“Sounds nice.”
* * * *
Zak seemed to do a one-eighty, laughing at my stories and even making a few jokes of his own. He made conversation with Marcus, a rarity. The two had never really gotten along. I’d read about men being jealous of their girlfriends’ male friends and even as cocky as Zak was, he surely felt envious of my friendship with Marcus.
After savoring our favorite dishes between bursts of laughter, Marcus raised his glass.
“To Lexi—may your success continue to flourish!”
“Hear, hear!”
As we drank, the waitress began clearing our plates. She brought the dessert menu and I looked to Zak. He seemed in no hurry to leave and nodded his approval. I ordered the triple chocolate mousse cake and a Godiva martini.
Four martinis later I crawled into bed, exhausted and glad Zak didn’t ask for an ass massage, his not-so-subtle way of trying to get laid. I drifted off to sleep dreaming of my meeting with Val.
She gushed about my manuscript and the fabulousness of each and every word. I saw myself sitting in her office, reaching and grabbing the hearts as they flew out of her mouth like a silly video game. Each heart I touched made a Ding! and my points skyrocketed.
Still in my dream world, I left her office and proceeded to my favorite boutique, spying a hot ruby-colored frock sure to look fantastic on me. I saw the only size four in the hands of a wide-hipped woman with greasy black hair.
“That won’t fit you,” I said matter-of-factly and snatched the dress, flashing my stellar smile.
I slipped into the first dressing room I came to and admired my reflection. The clingy charmeuse fabric made my curves look even curvier and my skin seem brighter, not that I needed it much anyway. My hair looked shinier and even my breasts appeared plumper, like I’d already had the boob job I planned as a Christmas present to myself.
I turned and appreciated the reflection some more, marveling at the sleekness of my legs.
“Oh, I have to have this dress!” I stated aloud and began removing it from my body. As I shimmied it down, I heard the loud, unmistakable sound of ripping fabric. I jumped the rest of the way out of the dress and held it up. The entire left side gaped open and threads dangled from the jagged frayed fabric.
A wave of sadness rushed over me as I put the torn dress back on its padded hanger. I then caught my reflection in the mirror, smirking at me, still wearing the dress completely intact. It let out an ear piercing cackle, very Wicked Witch of the West.
I immediately looked down at my body, clothed in panties and a bra. The dress hung to my right from a hook on the dressing room wall. My first instinct told me to scream and run, but the draw of my reflection kept me silent and my bare feet planted.
“I look fabulous, don’t I?” she said to me, flipping my, er, her chocolate hair. “Too bad you ripped the only one!”
“Who are you?” I whispered.
“Isn’t it funny how things happen in life? You do something bad and something bad happens to you.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m always here with you. Every day. I watch you, I see everything.”
“O…kay…”
“Ever hear of a little thing called karma?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess. It’s some stupid hippie voodoo thing, right?”
“It’s not some thing. You should take it seriously.”
“I don’t believe in that crap.”
“Oh, you will.” She smiled at me and cackled again. The laughter faded as her body disappeared, leaving my reflection staring back at me in my pink satin and black lace lingerie.
My eyes jolted open. My dream, or more correctly, nightmare, had left me in a cold sweat. I pushed the covers from my body to cool it off. But then felt a bizarre feeling in the pit of my stomach—like someone was watching me. I yanked the covers back up to my chin, then over my head.
Chapter 3
Marcus and I met for breakfast the next morning before he headed to work and I headed to Val’s office. He carried the plates with bagels and lox and I had both beverages. Maneuvering through the crowded café, a businessman in a suit two sizes too small bumped my hand with his laptop case. My caramel macchiato crashed to the floor and splattered on my shoes.
“Watch it, asshole!”
All I received in return was a dirty look. An employee appeared and cleaned the spill and my shoes and fetched me another drink.
“What do you think about karma?” I asked Marcus once I’d sat down at the table.
“I don’t know. Never gave it much thought, I guess.”
“I