Lisa
How I ever thought I could go to a nine-thirty meeting and actually function after sleeping on the couch with Jennie is beyond me. I'm still not sure how that even happened. I wasn't tired when I'd gone over there - no, I was wide awake, nervous as hell, palms sweaty, secretly harbouring the fear that Jennie might shun me and refuse my company from here on out. It would have never mattered before. No girl has ever mattered before.
But Jennie, for some Goddamn reason I can't comprehend, matters.
I'm forced to engage myself in the meeting. I'm forced to forget, for just a moment, all my worries that have plagued me for the last week. But during those short lapses when someone else is speaking, my mind is driven into a frenzy with thoughts and scenarios and what-ifs.
I imagine how things would be different had I never gone to the club that night. If I had never run into Kai. I wouldn't know Jennie. I wouldn't know her, and I wouldn't be intruding into her life in the most disrespectful of ways. Things would be better for her.
Then again, I also entertain the notion that I had asked her out on normal terms. That we had normal dates and normal conversations without these feelings of guilt and fear lingering in the back of my mind. But it doesn't matter. Imagining these alternate scenarios doesn't change anything.
It's meeting after meeting today. This alone puts me in a bitter mood because I fucking hate meetings. I try, again, to push Jennie out of my mind so that I can work. Again, I'm unsuccessful.
I don't have time to go out for lunch. I nearly forego it altogether when my assistant Jane, graciously thinking ahead, enters my office with a turkey sandwich from the local deli and a large cup of coffee. She easily breezes inside and sets everything on my desk. "I thought you might want something," she informs me kindly. "It's not good to skip lunch. Did you even have breakfast?" She's being conversational, but unfortunately I don't have the time. With a tight-lipped smile, I nod.
"Yes, Jane." If coffee counts as sustenance. "Thank you."
She takes a hint, and with a small smile, backs out the door and closes it behind her.
My stomach's growling, protesting, but I try to squeeze in a bit more work before I pause to eat. My phone's vibrating relentlessly in my pocket, but I ignore it again and again.
I practically inhale my coffee while I'm working. Twenty minutes later, I pull the sandwich towards me while simultaneously pulling my phone from my pocket. I have four missed calls and one voicemail message. All from Kai.
I scowl down at my phone. I scowl and chew my sandwich and debate whether or not to call him back. It's a wonder he hasn't started calling my work phone by now.
I don't want to talk to him. It's a dreadful thing, carrying on a conversation with Kai, and it's something I avoid at all costs. But I know he's bound to call again if he doesn't hear from me.
I send him a quick text, hoping to placate him.
Lisa: I'm working, can't talk right now.
My phone vibrates seconds later.
Kai: All right, just checking in. Hoping for a progress report or something.
Lisa: Perhaps you should check back closer to the end of the 3 weeks.
Kai: Going to take that long, huh?
Kai: I told you she's a pistol. Might as well be wearing a fucking chastity belt. Finding the key will be damn near impossible.
I'm not sure what he's talking about, what with his rambles about keys and belts. I don't respond, hoping he's had enough to leave me alone for a few days. But of course I'm never that lucky.
Kai: You're not going soft on me, are you? You seemed pretty cocky in the bar. It seems if you really wanted to fuck her it would have happened by now.
I stare at the screen in revulsion, wishing Kai was here now so that I could give him a piece of my mind. I hate this twisted little mess I've gotten myself into. But more than anything, I despise Kai. I stop myself from typing a response by reasoning that he's not worth the effort.
Then he texts me again. Provoking, always provoking.
Kai: No response? I knew it. You shouldn't make big bets if you're not man enough to carry them out.
I know I shouldn't. I know somewhere, in the faint recesses of my mind, that this is wrong. But I find my hands snatching the phone up of their own volition. They type out a response, and they hit send.
Lisa: Like I said before, she's just a bet. It'll only take till Saturday, tops. Then you can stop your fucking interference and get out of our lives for good.
I feel remorse the second the "Message Sent" notice appears. But it's too late to take it back. Jennie's not just a bet. Not anymore.
It takes Kai a few minutes to reply. When he does, I chuck the phone into my desk drawer, hoping to cover and hide our conversation, and perhaps the previous week altogether.
Kai: We'll see.