I rub my butt a bit to try and ease it a little. “I’m fine. I think I may have broken my arse, but apart from that, I should be okay.”
We both belt out a laugh, easing the tension a little. “Maybe I could rub some cream on it,” he suddenly blurts.
The words are out before Jake can even register them, visibly sending him into total shock. I have never seen anyone look as horrified as he does at this very moment.
I just sit there—fixed to the chair and mouth agape—as I stare at him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat before rising. He looks at me and then swiftly looks away. This continues for a few seconds before he finally clears his throat. “Um, I’m going to take a look at that breast … I mean … shower for you now,” Jake stutters.
And with that, he’s gone.
I want to gather myself together, grab him, and yell, “Yes! For the love of GOD, please rub some cream on my arse!” but unfortunately it’s too late.
After the events of the morning, I decide to go out for some retail therapy. There is nothing like buying a good pair of shoes to make you feel better about yourself. I make my way to Dulles Town Center, thinking that going there is a good change from Tyson’s. I seem to spend my life there when I’m not working.
I start by just looking through the shop windows. Saving sucks at times, but today I plan to make an exception. I have to buy some shoes no matter what they are. A nice new pair of shoes will set me free. I keep telling myself that anyway.
After looking in a dozen shops, I finally find the sexiest red patent shoes I have ever seen in my life. The wearer of these would have to be confident.
Am I this confident?
I give myself a pep talk, telling myself that I need to live life a bit more and fuck the price. They are the sexiest shoes I have ever seen, and I simply have to have them.
I walk into the shop, and straight away, I’m greeted with a huge smile. This is one of the many reasons I have grown to love America over the years.
“Good day, ma’am. Can I help you with something?” I cringe. I hate being called ma’am.
“Yes, please. Do you have these in a size eight?”
She beams at me again, showing her brightly colored braces. “Great choice. These are very popular.”
She disappears for a couple of minutes and comes back holding a box. I take a seat on the bench, and the lady places the box by my feet. I slip off my sandals and place my feet inside the high heels. Getting up, I wander around the store a little, feeling taller than ever. I walk over to the mirror to have a look, and all doubt fades about these shoes.
“I think they look great on you,” the shop assistant says.
I think they do too. “I’ll take them.”
I walk to the register to pay—not realizing that they’re a hundred and thirty bucks. Considering I don’t do this all the time, however, I decide to throw caution to the wind. What the hell, right?
I need to treat myself every now and then. I feel better already. It’s marvelous what buying a pair of shoes can do for the soul.
As she hands me the bag, the lady looks over my shoulder. “Oh, my God!” she shouts.
I wonder what on earth has her looking so shocked. I turn and find James and Tom standing at the window. Only, they aren’t just standing there. James is staring at me as he plays with his nipples, and Tom is hugging the glass like he’s in love with the damn thing.
“Do you know those guys?”
Snapping my head back to the girl, I notice that her face is screwed up in mild disgust. I shake my head vehemently. “No. I’ve never seen them before in my life.” As quickly as I can, I grab the bag, say goodbye, and race out of the shop as fast as my feet can carry me. I breeze past them both without even looking in their direction, knowing full well they won’t let me go so easily.
“Ana Banana, what a sight for sore eyes.”
I stop my stride and sigh. I turn, finding them both standing there, smiling at me. “Not funny, guys. Not funny at all.”
They both laugh, but James stops first. “Don’t be tripping, baby girl. My boy, Tom, and I just wanted to show you some love.”
I huff. “This is a family mall—not a festival for horny teenagers and juvenile delinquents.”
Tom simply finds my outburst even funnier. “Do they have those? If so, I’d totally fucking go,” Tom jokes, and both he and James fist pump each other.
“Ugh. It’s like watching two twats in high school. Don’t you guys have mothers to go home to? Surely it must be feeding time by now.”
Tom looks at my breasts suggestively. “Are you offering?”
I make a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. “You’re vile, Tom.”
“You’re sexy, Ana. Let’s get vile and sexy together.”
I turn and start walking away. “In your dreams!”
I hear their laughter. “Oh, you will be!” I hear Tom shout back.
My phone takes that precise moment to start ringing, so I stop to retrieve the phone from my bag. When I look down, I see it’s Jake. “Hello.”
“Ana, it’s Jake. I’m on my way home, and I was wondering if you’re there or not?”
“No, I’m just in the shops, but I was making my way home now.”
“She’s a bit tied up with me and James,” Tom says, hovering over my shoulder and laughing like the fool he is. I turn and slap him across the arm. Unfortunately, all that does is make them both laugh even harder.
“Who the fuck is that?” Jake hisses. His tone makes my body go rigid.
“Just Tom and James being dicks. I was in the shoe store, checking out when these arseholes turned up.”
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
I frown and scoff down the line. “Don’t be silly. They’re just being jerks. I’m on my way home now.” I flip both Tom and James the bird and start walking towards my car. Luckily, they’re not following me this time, but I can still hear them laughing.
“Ana, tell me where you are.”
His voice takes on a tone so commanding, it makes my insides turn to mush. “I’m just over at Dulles Town Center. In fact, I’m coming down the escalator now. Both Tom and James are gone. They’re nowhere to be seen.”
I hear Jake take a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt. I just know how those two think.”
I laugh. “Yes, I have an inkling of that myself, but they’re harmless. They would never hurt me—not intentionally, at any rate. They’re just a bit crude at times. That’s all. Besides, I’m just as old as you, remember? I can take care of myself.” I get down the escalator and start walking towards my car with a smile.
“Eleven years is a big difference.”
“Not to me,” I blurt.
Shit! Why did I say that?
The line goes deathly silent. Not a sound can be heard—not even his steady breathing.
I’m about to make up some lame explanation when Jake suddenly says, “I’ll see you at home.” Then, the line goes dead, and I’m left standing by my car, feeling like a complete idiot.
Does he think I meant that he isn’t too old for me? Of course, that is how I feel, but did he take it that way?