The Last Thing She Wants (Chestnut Hills #1)

6

elli

Two weeks. Two long weeks. Two long grueling weeks I had squeezed my ass into leggings so tight the handmade sausages at Stu’s Roll downtown used me as a how-to demonstration.

“Why do all women’s workout clothes look like I’m trying to be on the next cover of Maxim?” I asked.

Daisy stood next to me as she thumbed through the neon crop tops and matching leggings. “Why not? When you have an ass like this,” she smacked my left butt cheek with a loud whack , “you should show it off. Hell, I would.”

“Daisy, you literally work out six days a week, and do yoga and spin. Your body has me convinced that God plays favorites.”

She rolled her eyes and held up a bright pink crop top and legging set. “This!”

“No way!” I gave her a sarcastic laugh and turned away; a selection of sweatpants caught my eyes. Exploring tight spandex pants for the last two weeks had been enough adventure for me; I didn’t care about adding a crop top, and bright, attention calling, pink, to the mix .

“Yes way! And if you don’t get it, I’m getting it for you,” she tossed the set into the cart despite my protests.

One hour and a purchased pink neon workout set later, Daisy and I were lugging several Target bags into my apartment building.

“Jeez Ellie, you said you only needed to pick up a few things.”

“Let’s remember, you made me buy the workout set.” I raised my eyebrows in my best friend’s direction as I pressed the elevator button, calling it down.

Daisy rolled her eyes, shifting the bags from one hand to the other. “Oh yes, the workout set takes up three bags and weighs a hundred pounds.”

“Daisy, babe, whining isn’t becoming on you. Also, I’m paying you in frozen pizza and ice cream.” I held up the bag filled with our girls’ night snacks: ice cream, Oreos, gummy worms, and brownie mix. The elevator doors opened, and Daisy whispered a thanks to the universe from me behind me. I threw her a look over my shoulder and mocked her misery with a large fake pout.

“Hello,” a familiar warm and low voice floated from the elevator. An immediate smile stretched across my face at the sight of Theo stepping through the doors.

“Theo! Care to join us for a girls’ night? I carry all that is holy…ice cream and Oreos.” His responding chuckle rippled through me, down to my toes.

“Thank you for the invite, but I’m grabbing dinner with a friend.”

“Well, we’re also renting The Proposal , if that has any sway over you?” Daisy jumped in. “Hi, I’m Daisy,” she brightly smiled, all while not being shy with her obvious perusal of Theo.

“Unbeknownst to you, Daisy, that does hold a lot of sway. But I don’t bail on friends. Rain check?”

“Boo!” I blew raspberries in protest, causing Theo to laugh again .

“Next time, promise,” he gave me a wink that made my heart do a little tap dance.

“Okay, but I’m making you dance when Betty White singes ‘Get Low’ as payback.” I may have been joking, but secretly, I wanted to see how he shook his tight booty. His grin that never left widened. At the threshold of the door to the parking garage, across from the elevator doors, he looked at me with mischief in his eyes.

“Only if you join me.”

Was he flirting with me? Couldn’t be. Maybe I was hallucinating. I squinted, trying to figure out if that really happened, or I was in one of my vibrator-fueled hazes. Snap out of it. Daisy cleared her throat, pulling me from my fog. “Sounds like a party. I’m in.” She struggled to raise her hand, weighed down by bags. “Nice to meet you, Theo.”

With a nod, he stepped out into the parking garage and was gone. Daisy turned to me with her mouth agape. “Ellie Branson, are you fucking the guy who walking in on your ex cheating on you?

“Daisy! No!” I whisper-shouted while pulling my not so discreet friend onto the elevator. “We’ve become friends recently.”

“Clearly,” she scoffed in return. “Details about this second life, please.”

I shared with Daisy how Theo and I had settled into a routine of walking to the gym together every evening after work. At five thirty on the dot, we’d meet in the hall outside our apartment doors, descend the stairs and walk across the common yard in sync whilst share stories about our day. It became a ritual I’ve come to appreciate. It was validating and fulfilling to have a friend who listened to the mundane. Of course, I always had Daisy, but with Theo, it was inexplicably different.

Between our giggling, we made our way back to my apartment and unloaded the treats. By the time I finished recounting the last two weeks, Daisy had already pulled out two bowls for ice cream and ripped the lid off the pint of Ben something I was slowly realizing was the mark of a very toxic relationship.

Singing had always been a passion of mine, and despite having the opportunity to sing with a band from work, I never had the chance to try singing live with an audience. Every time I planned to practice with the band, an excuse came up, keeping me home.

Shane needed the apartment deep cleaned, and it had to be done that night.

Shane wanted to watch a movie together, and if I didn’t watch it with him, I was neglecting him and was an uncaring girlfriend.

Even in instances where all I wanted was a little self-care because I was stressed or had a bad day, his day was magically worse, and he needed a home-cooked meal. It was never ending. I recognized I allowed myself to fall into this position, but I decided it was up to me to make sure I never fall into that pattern again.

In the middle of explaining why I didn’t have time for a romantic interest, Daisy rolled her eyes. “But he’s so pretty,” Daisy faked a pout, “besides, no one is saying you have to date or anything serious. Just flirt a little. Maybe a romp in the sheets. Let him tell you you’re pretty.”

Daisy expertly dodged the empty brownie mix box I threw at her. “Daisy, I have eyes. I know he’s pretty,” I giggled, “it’s like annoying how pretty. But I’m serious. I’ve only been in my new role at work for a month and it’s ramping up. Charles put a meeting on my calendar first thing Monday to go over my next assignment. Apparently, the local college is overhauling their marketing, and they want to bring someone from our firm on as a consultant.

“If what I’m thinking is correct, it will be my first solo client. I’m really nervous about doing well; I want them to know they promoted the right person. ”

“It’s no question,” Daisy pulled me into a hug, sighing into my hair, “I mean, that ad campaign you did with the Calvin Klien model look-a-likes squeezing sponges all over themselves was genius. I am now the proud owner of five Sudsy sponges. But being good at your job and getting a little side action aren’t mutually exclusive. So…your cute big booty will be squeezing into that pink set.”

The conversation ended with another smack on my butt.