Chapter 17: Pay Me

I slammed the phone receiver down hard onto its dock, silently screaming over the whole conversation. As punishment for still not completing the Dawes interview, Horatio assigned me an article about an up-and-coming boxer. I didn't mind the work, but the Boxer's manager is also his girlfriend. This meant I just spent the last ten minutes explaining to the girl that I had no interest in fucking her man. Is it really that difficult to fathom that a woman reporter might want to do her job? Sarah jumped up, "Letty, We need lunch."

I stared at my best friend, seeing the frustration I felt mirrored in her face, "Subs?"

She laughed, and we headed to the main floor of our building, where a tiny sub shop had a little garden seating area. Sarah and I first met when I knocked over the table where we usually sit. It was my first day of work at the home/lifestyle section, and I was so confused by everything that I didn't see the table or Sarah pounding away on her laptop before it was too late. After many apologies and a flat white latte, Sarah introduced herself, and we have been friends ever since. Once we ordered and got comfy at our friendship table on the patio Sarah waved her hand in a give it to me gesture. I looked away, "I don't even know where to begin."

"Start with the one-night stand. I wanna hear details already."

I laughed, then began to fill in my bestie on my one-night stand, my terrible blind date, then my friend-date with Tanner, and ended with the failed interview who turned out to be my one-night stand."So a lot has happened over the last ten days."

"Holy shit!" Sarah sat back, her brown eyes wide as she processed everything. "So you fucked your hockey crush that you've had a lady boner for since high school and can't even remember it fully! Such a shame!"

She clucks her tongue and sips her coffee. I adjust in my seat, feeling a little attacked. " First off, I haven't had a lady boner for Grant since high school. I've just followed his incredible career since he started. Only because he is an amazing player!"

"That's what I said, Lady boner for your Hockey crush."

"Second, I kind of met him again at that Art show, and one thing led to another."

"Hold up!" Sarah interrupted, holding up her hand, "You fucked Grant Dawes SOBER?"

When I nodded, she squealed, "Please tell me he is as good as I think he is?"

"Better. Sarah, the things his body does to mine are things I thought only happened in books." I whispered.

Sarah's dark skin made it difficult to see her blush, but the shy smile couldn't be missed. She grew up in an extremely religious home, so too many sex details always made her blush. Though she would never miss a chance to spout sex positivity and openness because she was raised in the opposite, "I'm so proud of you for finally striking out. I've been worried the last two years because you seemed so alone because of Ben."

"I know. I was alone, but Sarah, jumping from one man to another is not the solution."

She shakes her head and takes my hand in hers, "Violet, you are not jumping! Ben hasn't been in your life for a long time. Just because it is now legally over, doesn't mean you need to put your own happiness on hold for any longer. You deserve to move on with someone else."

I blink back tears, "I needed to hear that. But I'm unsure Grant is anything more than sex."

The words felt like a lie even before I said them. Sarah grinned knowingly, "Even if he is just a good romp, you don't have to hold back."

We smiled at each other and then continued to eat our lunches, moving on to lighter topics. Sarah's phone went off: " Horatio needs an update on my article, so I got to cut this short. Are we still on for Boozy Brunch on Sunday?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Sarah rolled her eyes as her phone dinged again, "See you up there?"

I nodded, taking my time to finish my sandwich. I took my time processing what Sarah said and knew she was right. I was done mourning my marriage and wanted to move forward with my life. It was okay for me to be with Grant, even if it was only temporary. I wanted to fill my life with the happiness I've missed out on for so long. Grant made me happy, so I wouldn't overthink it anymore. I dumped my trash in the bin and headed back.

When I returned to the office, Sarah was still gone, and I plopped into my chair, intending to write the article to accompany the photo shoot/failed interview. I knew enough about Dawes that I could at least get an outline going. I wouldn't waste any more of my day on the Boxer's 'manager.'

Before I could even log into my computer, my ex-husband walked in with a bright smile. Not now! I internally groaned, gearing up for a fight. He only smiled like that when he felt superior to me and was heading over to rub it in my face. I hated that face; it used to spark heated arguments in private. I hated fighting in public, which was something Ben loved. He loved the attention that big public fights brought. I would get so frustrated over our disagreements that I would cry. Ellie calls it my body's natural way of preventing me from killing anyone. Ben used my reactions as a weapon. He would make a scene to make me look bad, to paint me as the picture of unhinged, dramatic, or crazy. Ben stood in front of my desk, leaning on the siding of my cubical, "It's always a surprise when I visit you at work that you are still in this--" He glanced around my cubical with distaste, "quaint desk area."

I suppressed an eye roll. "I see. You should stop coming to visit me. You have no reason to. We are no longer married, so there is no need to slum it anymore."

His grin spread sadistically across his face, "Actually, I'm here to collect my half of the house."

I stared at him dumbfounded, "Your half of the house?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Vi." He sounded like he was reprimanding a child. I hated when he used that voice and that nickname with me, "In the divorce settlement finalized last Wednesday, I am owed half of the house's worth. I would like it now."

I stood and began to pack up my things; at this rate, I wouldn't be able to work anyway, so I might as well head home and work from there. Ben's brows furrowed, and he lost his smug grin when I turned and strolled toward the elevator doors. He was hot on my heels, mumbling something as I pressed the button for the garage. "Hey--"

I held up my hand to stop him from talking as we waited for the doors to open and step in. His jaw ticked with annoyance, but he knew I would not engage until I was ready. At least Ben learned something about me after five years of marriage. He knows I hate making a public scene, especially at my job, yet here he is again. Same shit, different day. I thought I could get away from this when we were divorced, but apparently, I could not. Once the doors were closed, I turned toward him, "Ben. You have to stop showing up at my work. This is how I earn a living. You can't bring personal stuff here."

He scoffs, "Whatever, Vi. It's just a stupid little job. You barely make anything here. I wish you had quit when I asked you to."

I spent too many nights wondering if I could've saved my marriage if I had quit my job. I was so grateful I hadn't because I would be way worse off now without my job. I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Regardless, do not show up here again. If you do, I will inform security that you are not to be allowed up here. As for the money for the house, I have six months to get that together and give it to your lawyer. I seriously want nothing to do with you now that we are finally divorced."

"I need that money now, Vi," Ben whined. It was moments like this that made me wonder what I ever saw in him. He used to whine, pout, and degrade me until I finally gave in just to shut him up. This was not the man who had charmed his way into my heart enough for me to marry him.

"For what?!?" I seethed. "You have enough money to buy a boat with your mistress, so you can't be that hard up for cash."

"That is none of your business. The sooner, the better." Ben warned.

The doors opened on the main floor, and we both exited. I walked toward the parking lot where my car was, and Ben called, "Pay me what you owe me, Vi!"

A few people stared at me with confusion and judgment, so I ignored him and headed for my car. Once seated in the driver's seat, I let my frustrated tears fall while I reigned in my anger.