The Opportunist
Page 29

“Hey there gorgeous,” Caleb walks in carrying a tray and smiling sunshine all over the room. I groan again and hide my face in a pillow. Last night: Alcohol, betrayal by a friend, an embarrassing phone call.
“I am so sorry I called you. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I croak.
“Don’t be,” he says placing the tray on my nightstand. “I feel honored that I was your first choice.” He picks up a glass of water and a little white pill and places them both in my hand. I hang my head in shame and snack on my thumb nail.
“I brought you some toast too—if you’re up to it.” I take one look at the bread and butter and my stomach churns. I shake my head and he quickly removes the tray.
My hero.
“I called the motel this morning,” he says not looking at me. I bolt upright in bed and feel my head spin. “Your friend checked out last night. Apparently, he was in hurry to get out of town,” he leans against the wall and looks at me through his lashes. If I wasn’t so nauseous, I would have smiled at the sight of him in my bedroom.
“Some friend, huh?” I toy with my comforter.
“It wasn’t your fault. Men like that should be castrated.” I nod and sniff my agreement. “But, if he ever comes near you again Olivia, I’m going to kill him.”
I liked that. I liked that a lot.
The ‘Friends’ theme song is playing from my small television when I get out of the shower. I shuffle into the living room in my robe and slippers and stand around like I don’t know where to sit. Caleb scoots over to make room on the couch for me and I curl into the corner. I decide to make some semblance toward being honest.
“I like you Caleb,” I blurt and then I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. “That sounded like a fifth grade confession.”
He looks up from the TV, his gold eyes laughing.
“Do you want to go steady?”
I punch him on the arm.
“I’m not being funny. This is serious. We are not a good idea. You don’t know who you are and I know exactly who I am, which is why you should probably be running for your life.”
“You don’t really want me to do that.” He is being half serious now or at least he isn’t smiling anymore.
“No. But it would be the best thing.” I am ringing my hands in the sleeves of my gown. I feel nervous and sick to my stomach, plus the way he’s looking at me isn’t making things easier.
“You are bouncing me around like a yo-yo here,” he says placing both of his hands on his knees, as if he is getting ready to stand up.
“I know,” I say quickly, “I’m thinking that I am not the kind of girl you want to be friends with.”
“I don’t just want to be friend with you.”
I have a moment; my vision swings in and out of focus and my wretched, evil heart swells up like a balloon. I am so confused. I should not be doing this to him, but I want to. I rub my temples. This was all too complicated and unfair. After three long years, I have what I want and it isn’t real. He doesn’t know who I am, and if he did, he wouldn’t be sitting in my living room.
I blow air through my nose. Good Olivia is begging me to break things off with him for good. She remembers airport f**king blue and paint on the ceiling and what happens when those memories blow through your empty life and remind you of how cold things are. We turn back to the TV, both of us embarrassed and awkward. Caleb leaves a couple of hours later sucking the hope from my lungs as he goes.
“Lock all the doors, and call me if you need me, okay?” I nod biting my bottom lip. I don’t want to be alone but I am too embarrassed to ask him to stay longer.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I will him to stay, gazing up at his beautiful face. He seems to hesitate, and for a moment, I think it’s working.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper. Please don’t let him remember. Please let him remember.
“Nothing…it’s just that I feel like we’ve done this before—déjà vu, you know?”
I do know, because this is the way our goodbyes went when we were together. He never stayed the night because I never let him.
“Well, bye.”
“Bye,” I say.
I make myself a cup of tea and settle onto the sofa. I lost him once because of my inner rottenness. My lies started unraveling one after another until he was so weighed down by the size of them, he looked me in the eyes and said goodbye forever. I remember feeling numb as I watched him leave, and then for the rest of the day, until I realized he wasn’t coming back. Ever. That was when the walls of my emotional dam came crashing down around me. The hurt I experienced was so potent and searing for the first six months, dominating each day like a sore throat. After that, it became a constant ache, an absence that never left your bones. Caleb’s gone, Caleb’s gone, Caleb’s gone….
Even now that he was back in my life, I still felt his absence. My time, I knew, was borrowed and soon the fierce pain would start again. It would only be a matter of time when he found out about our past and my sausage link of lies.
I decide to seize the day. If my time is short, I might as well be with him as much as I possibly can. I pick up the phone and punch in the number to his condo. He didn’t answer, so I chirp a message into his machine asking him to call me back, which he does, about ten minutes later.
“Olivia? You okay?”
“I’m fine, just fine,” I wave away his concern like he can see me. “I’m coming over,” I say quickly. “I’d rather not be alone and you promised me dinner anyway.”
I wait, holding my breath.
There is a pause, during which I fold in both of my lips and squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe he has plans with Leah.
“Great,” he says finally. “Do you like steak?”
“I’m all about the meat.” I flinch when he laughs. “Give me the directions.” I jot down the series of highways and streets he is rattling of, and toss my pen aside. I know the building he is describing. It was the type of thing you couldn’t help but look at as you drove across the waterway to get to the string of ritzy café’s and boutiques that lined the beach. It had at least thirty floors, a chunk of real estate that glittered like OZ.
When I arrive, I hand the keys to my Bug over to the valet attendant and step into the chilly lobby.