My Wish Upon A Star

Chapter 8 - Moan Like a Chipmunk

Chapter 8

Moan Like a Chipmunk

Sighing, I looked out the bay window at the green field in front of my eyes. I should have slapped my own self for sighing while I was here, but I couldn’t help myself.

Here was at the MetLife Stadium. Victor and I—well mostly me actually—were watching the New York Jets playing, in a suite, those little private boxes kind of thing. Except, I think it was called, like the commissioner’s club and it was basically a bar with nice chairs all over the place and couches, seriously, it didn’t feel like you were there to watch a football game. Victor had managed to have it all for ourselves. It was rented by his father’s friend who used it for cooperate meeting, or maybe to exchange bribes, I didn’t really care, what mattered here, was we had the whole place for ourselves. Oh and a private chef too.

During the car ride I had been completely ecstatic. I was pretty sure I had been amusing Victor with my crazy antics. But right now, watching the game, it was different.

Don’t get me wrong, this was nice. But I had no clue why Victor had suddenly decided we should be going to a football game during the play offs. He didn’t even like football all that much and my birthday wasn’t close by, he had already given me Christmas sex, and we generally didn’t give each other gifts for no reasons. I was slightly confused and also a bit worried—was this finally the day where he would tell me he wanted to introduce me to his second lover, Mister Goat?

The real problem thought was that to me this whole thing was kind of a drag because, for one thing, we were far from the action, and not out with everyone screaming insanities at the other team. There was a great joy that came from screaming like a banshee while your team’s defence was on the field.

We didn’t have any of that here. I just felt like the poor housewife looking down at her husband’s kingdom, not being able to actually enjoy any of it. Sure, we could hear the other people screaming outside, but I could have heard them scream through the TV just as well.

With my arm crossed over my chest and my eyes fixed on the field I said, “You know Victor, we might as well have stayed at your apartment and watched the game on your king size television.” Seriously, his TV screen was the size of a king size bed, it was ridiculous. “It’s the play-offs. It must have cost a fortune. Like maybe the price of a small island.”

Victor wasn’t answering, so I turned to see what the problem was. And he wasn’t listening to me or even looking my way—there was wireless internet so the little bastard was on his laptop probably doing business. I could choke him with his tie right about now. Problem with that scenario though was that he wasn’t wearing a tie—just the whole suit with a few button of his dress shirt undone. It was seriously hot.

If things were different, if he had been my actual boyfriend and I had any sort of claim over him, I would have scowled him for working while we were supposed to be going out together—maybe we could have actually gotten into an argument. But he wasn’t, and I didn’t. I would have been pretty darn pathetic if I started to play the mad girlfriend.

Still, I wasn’t going to have this. I turned around and headed towards my Spanish god. “Victor Rockefeller, you’ve been a naughty, naughty boy,” I announced with a smirk.

Victor’s eyes went from his computer to me, and back to his computer. “I’m sorry, just give me a second and I’ll close it,” he trailed, suddenly typing faster.

“Oh no, none of that. You’re closing it now.” At that point I had reached him and I was gently pushing his computer to the side and then straddled him on the couch—seemed like I ended up in that position a lot. Both of my hands cupped his face to make him look at me. “You’re on a non-date with me, you’re not here to work. When I spare some of my precious minutes over you, you better give me your full attention. It’s not because I don’t work on Wall Street that my time isn’t money either.” Well, so much for not playing the mad girlfriend. And it wasn’t like bringing me to watch a football game was a waste of time to me. It was probably a waste of time for him in fact.