Confessions of an Alli Cat

I giggle because I use the word ‘loins’.  And then I glare at her again .

“I’m serious, Sara.  I need you to promise me that you won’t interfere.”

She rolls her eyes.  “As if I’d interfere,” she croons, stroking my arm.  I glare again.

“I mean it.”

“Fine,” she says, seemingly wounded as she sits back in her seat.  “But you underestimate my powers of finesse.  I am amazingly subtle.”

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes again.  “You’re subtle like an eighteen-wheeler.”

At this juncture, my cell phone chooses to ring.  I eye the long walk to the table where I left it with my clothes.  And I decide that it just isn’t worth it.

I take another drink of wine.

And then my phone rings again.

Crap.

“It could be Sophie,” I mutter, climbing na**d out of my hot-tub and jogging to get it.  Unfortunately for me, it’s not.

“Alli?”

It’s Rick the freaking Dick.  I got out of the hot tub for this?

“We need to talk.  Vanessa and I are getting married in June.  We set the date yesterday.  She called Sophie a little bit ago and asked Sophie to be a bridesmaid and your daughter screamed at her.  And then hung up on her.  You need to talk to her.”

“To Vanessa?”  I’m confused.  It might be the effects of the wine. I’m not sure.  And it might also be the effects of the wine, but a little part of me is shocked and somewhat sad that Rick has already set a date.  I don’t want him- that much is certain, but to know that he would rush out so quickly and get re-married, it’s a little hurtful.  Like I didn’t matter at all.

“No, Allison,” Rick sighs.  “To Sophie.  You need to explain to her that it is important that she participate in my wedding.”

And I’m done feeling hurt.  It was a short-lived excursion from reality, anyway.

“What?  I’m not talking to Sophie about this.  If you want her in your wedding, you can pick up the phone and call your daughter yourself.  Stop letting the women in your life take care of everything. She’s your daughter—you need a relationship with her.  And that includes talking to her.”

“Why do you have to be such a bitch, Allison?” Rick snaps.  “I’m just asking for a little help. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, considering that I haven’t filed a lawsuit after you tried to run over my fiancée.”

And now I’m pissed. I step back into the hot-tub since I’m shivering.

“Are you insane?  I’m being a bitch?  And you really feel like you could have filed a lawsuit? If that’s really what you want to do, do it!” I snap.  “I don’t need you thinking that you did me a favor by not.  Your lawyer already tried to contact me about this anyway.”

“I told him to back off,” Rick says. “But I could just as easily call him back and tell him to proceed.”

I’m sputtering, trying to decide what to say when Sara butts in.

“Give me the phone,” she slurs.  I yank away, but she manages to get my phone first.

“Listen, you small-dicked ass**le.  You deserve to marry a gold-digging whore.  And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that Sophie is nowhere near your wedding. And your twig-legged little bitch could have dented Alli’s car.  She should sue you for that.”  Small pause.  “Hell, yes, this is Sara!  Who the f**k else would it be?  Do not call Alli again with this kind of bull-shit.”

I try to grab the phone away from her and she wrenches away.

“I mean it, Rick.  She doesn’t answer to you.  And she doesn’t have to help you anymore.  Handle your own shit.”

And she hangs up on him.  She lays my phone on the tiles and turns to me.

“Don’t let him talk to you like that anymore,” she instructs me.  “He doesn’t have the right.”

I’m staring at her speechless when my phone rings again.

Fire flares up in Sara’s eyes and she yanks my phone to her ear.

“You want more, Tiny Dick?  Leave her alone.  Only contact her through a lawyer from now on.  She’s SO over you- she doesn’t even want to hear your voice. In fact, she’s so over you that she’s dating again, too.  For your info, her new boss is sexy and fabulous and f**king rich.  You’ll never be able to compare.”

Pause.

Another pause.

Sara’s eyes widen and she hands me the phone.  She is speechless which is terrifying, in itself.  I look at her questioningly as I lift the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Allison?”

Oh, holy shit.  I want to effing die. 

It’s Alex.

It’s time to hyperventilate.

Chapter Eleven

(Or: A Woman can’t survive on Embarrassment Alone)

“Um. Hi, Alex.”

“Hi, Allison.” My new boss sounds unsure of himself and I’m not sure what to say.

“Tell him your friend is insane!” Sara screeches into my ear.

I wave her away.

“I’m sorry about that,” I tell him as calmly as I can.  “My friend and I are having wine, probably too much of it, and my ex-husband called a minute ago.  My friend was worked up and obviously when you called, she thought it was him calling back.  I’m so sorry about the confusion.”

I think I pull it off. I sound cool and confident.

Alex laughs, a buttery-rich sound in my ear.

“It’s okay.  I’ve been around wine and women before.  I get it.  And I’m glad I can be of assistance with your ex-husband.  He’s apparently quite the treat.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.  It doesn’t look like I’m going to get fired over this.

“I’m sorry to call you so late, anyway,” he continues.  “I was just thinking about what I said to you earlier after your staff meeting and I decided that it was inappropriate and wanted to apologize.  I sincerely hope that I didn’t offend you.  But now I’m thinking that since your friend called me a Tiny Dick, we might be even.”

He laughs and, no lie, a shiver runs down my spine.  I may want to take a bath in his laugh.  Then shove it against the wall and have violent sex with it.  And I should probably not drink this much wine ever again.