Ben hated crowds. Concerts, clubs, bars…he hated them all. If he wanted to get drunk (which these days he so often did) he was very happy to do so from the comfort of his own home. Just him, his Vodka and Tonic (Smirnoff was his poison of choice), a toasted BLT from Java’s (like a freakin’ orgasm in your mouth) and just enough Michael Bay explosions to make the night go down right.
What more could a man ask for?
What more indeed?
Well, considering you actually want to know and not just asking for the sake of rhetoric and also considering the man’s not a gay homo trouser chaser; poom poom would be as good a place to start as any. Hence the late night bar trawling, the big booty cupping, the seven thousand shilling glasses of double Vodka Tonic and yes, another shot of tequila for the lady.
It was her fourth of the night. On a Tuesday. Didn’t she have work in the morning?
“I’m a model.” She said with a slight tilt of the head.
Ben looked her up and down.
Five foot five, big ass, as close to a C cup as a girl can get without actually being one and just the hint of pot belly that spoke of one too many Sunday afternoons at Zanzi’s.
Ben didn’t believe her for a second. He didn’t mind though. It wasn’t like he was planning on taking her to meet the family or anything. Whatever lie worked for her suited him just fine.
Feigned interest…ON.
Ben took a sip of his drink.
“Really? Runway or print?”
Ben had four really tall half sisters and knew a little bit about it. The question was, did What’s-her-name? Not that he was testing her or anything.
Her answer?
“Print. My legs are way too short and my ass way too big for the runway. I just did something for Warid though. You should be seeing it sometime soon.”
Hmmmmm, so maybe she wasn’t lying. And everybody knew that a little self-deprecation went a long way. What’s-her-name was getting more attractive by the second.
Ben’s phone buzzed from the depths of his pocket. Pulling it out Ben stared down at its face. It was Sharon. Again. Making a face Ben pressed, “reject” and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody.” Ben answered. Though a tad too quickly.
The girl caught it but said nothing. Instead, she threw her shot back, gulping it down in one go.
A girlfriend, she figured. Or an ex girlfriend. Even more likely. The possibility of an ex fiancé never once crossed her mind. Why should it have? And even if it had, it was none of her business anyway. She had come to drink. And maybe, just maybe depending on just how well the tequila worked, other things as well.
“Your turn.”
Ben blinked.
“What?”
“Finish up your drink so we can get out of here.”
“What? Now?”
“You’re seriously not asking me that are you?”
Ben’s phone began to buzz. He tried to ignore it but after the sixth, seventh, eighth ring Ben couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled out the phone. He wasn’t even surprised.
“Maybe you should just take it. Tell the person that you clearly don’t want to talk to that you don’t want to talk to them.”
“But then that kind of defeats the whole purpose.”
“Take the call Ben. I’m going to go freshen up. I’ll meet you outside.”
What’s-her-name grabbed her bag and headed in the direction of the toilets.
That left Ben with Sharon. Sighing in resignation, Ben pressed, “Accept” and put the phone up to his ear. At the same time heading outside so he would be able to hear her.
“Hey.”
Ben hit the stairs.
“Hi. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Not that it’s any of your business but I’ve trying to get me a leg mona mi.
“I couldn’t hear it.”
“Where are you?”
Outside.
“Karma.”
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
Uh…duh.
“Pretty. Why?”
“I wanted to see you. I need to tell you something. Do you think you can make the time?”
“Maybe…probably not. Why don’t you just tell me now.”
“It’s not the kind of thing you say over the phone, Ben.”
“We’ve been over this Sharon, I have a life. You can’t keep doing this…”
“I’m having your baby Ben.”
Silence. Wheels, cogs and axels turning…
Fuck.
“Are you sure?”
“How can you even ask me that? After everything we’ve been through. After everything I’ve told you. You know I’ve only been with you.”
Ben sucked in some air.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant are you sure about the pregnancy itself. Not the paternity. As in have you seen your doctor and stuff…that’s what I meant.”
This seemed to placate Sharon somewhat.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I went to the doctor’s today. I’m three weeks.”
Ben rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“But Ben before you freak out, you should know that I’m not expecting you to do anything. I released you of any and all responsibility the day I gave you back the ring. I just thought you should know.”
Ben should have felt relief at this but for some odd reason he didn’t. In fact he felt the exact opposite. This was his kid she was talking about.
“She wasn’t expecting him to do anything?”
“Released of any and all responsibility?”
“She just thought he should know?”
Was she fucking shitting him?
Ben took a breath. He didn’t want to say something he might regret.
“This is my kid Sharon. I’m not about to just sit by and do nothing.”
“You left me Ben.”
“But I didn’t leave our baby.”
Silence.
Ben felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned. It was What’s-her-name.
“There you are. I almost thought that you had left me.”
Ben forced a smile.
“Nope. Still here.”
He held up a finger to tell her to give him a minute. She understood and took a few steps back towards the music.
“Listen, I have to go.”
“Your fuck for the night arrive?”
Pause.
Remember to breathe Ben, remember to breathe…
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow Sharon…bye.”
Ben hung up the phone. Walked over to where What’s-her-name was.
“Ready to go?”
Ben nodded.
“More than.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Let’s go.”
No comments:
Post a Comment