No Love Attached

chapter fifteen : lady lake

| No Love Attached |
chapter fifteen : lady lake

•••

I was scrolling the internet at about four a.m. when I stumbled upon an article. It was an interview with an old Harvard professor of mine. It was about human happiness and resilience. In it he claimed there were studies that show even after huge tragedies, people usually go back to their same state of happiness before the event. It doesn't effect you as long term as you think.

It was exactly as pleasant as a pimple popping video, but it was something to hold on to, nonetheless. I found comfort at that dark hour before sunrise, knowing I was going to be okay. That one day soon I'll be as happy as I was before Josh.

Science doesn't lie, right?

•••

I was about to head out for Aaron Fitzgerald's dinner party when I found myself in a staring contest with a small yellow box. They were just sitting on my entry table, still in the Rite-Aid bag. Should I just throw one in my purse?

After another beat of hesitation, I settled on putting one condom in my bag for safe keeping. I had no intentions of having sex right at this moment. But I'd like knowing I had the option. Better to be prepared, I guess.

It turned out that he lived less than two blocks away, so there was no need for a cab. London's December air made New York's feel like a warm autumn day. Usually, I despised walking. I would Uber to my kitchen if it was possible. But hey, I was now a liberated woman. Liberated women walk.

His building was exactly what you'd expect. Luxurious as fuck with two doormen waiting to let you into the lobby. I mean, my building had a doorman. But two? C'mon now. That's just obnoxious. Unless Beyoncé lived here. Then that would make it more than acceptable.

Once I gave my name, the taller one of the doormen swiped his keycard to let me onto the penthouse floor.

As I waited for the apartment door to be opened, I kept thinking about the condom. It felt like a loaded gun in my purse. Just waiting for someone to be stupid and reckless enough to pull the trigger.

Before I could overthink further, the door opened, revealing Mr. Fitzgerald. He gave me a smile that could have been a toothpaste ad.

"Hey! So glad you could make it." He surprised me by pulling me into a hug, like an old friend would. His blue button-up felt like it was made of the finest of silks.

"Yeah, thank you for having me." I took off my black, Burberry coat and Aaron whisked it away to a near by closet.

Before he returned, I got a chance to take in the penthouse. It felt wrong calling it that when it easily could have been a museum gallery. The room with it's high white ceilings and marble floor were home to huge abstract art pieces of every wall. From what Anthony has taught me about expensive art, I knew every piece in this room cost more than human organs.

"Here, everyone's in the kitchen. What's your drink?" He put a firm hand on my waist and let me into the kitchen, which was just as magnificent as the last room.

I considered my alcoholic beverage options.

Vodka equaled wasted, loud Vera.