I would eventually lose clients causing my business to fold and once I dipped into my savings and CD’s, my interest would go down, and by the time I was forty I would be broke and without a job living in a trailer with thirty-five cats. The thought was so revolting- I started to tell Lindsey to take me home. I would rather face the wrath of Luke and his goon squad than be known for the woman who once had it all, but lost it after her assistant sold her out. I wanted to say those things, but I couldn’t. I needed Lindsey. I needed a friend and of all the people I had come in contact with over the years, it was her that I was closest to. I wanted someone I could confide in and share all my secrets with. It was a little overwhelming at times being me and trying to keep an all business persona when deep down- all I wanted was to be just like everyone else.
Luke had turned into a complete failure and my melancholy mood his actions had put me in made me extremely vulnerable. It was time to let go of the past and try to become a new person. I looked over at Lindsey as if seeing her for the first time. Her long hair was almost black and her tanned skin was flawless. She didn’t wear a hint of makeup, and didn’t need to. She seemed innocent, yet full of life. She wore khaki shorts and a plain white shirt. Even sitting down I could tell that it complimented her curvy figure. It was a requirement of mine for her to dress in business attire for work. I even gave her a bonus when she started, just so she could look the way I expected her too.
Seeing her now, dressed down in casual clothes with no makeup on, I almost felt as if we were friends maybe coming back from a movie or a shopping trip together. My heart smiled at the thought, but my body responded by me rolling my eyes at such a silly daydream. I was twenty-six acting like I was ten again. Next thing I knew, we would be skipping along together with our hair in pig-tails singing Mary- Mary Quite Contrary.
“Well this is awkward,” Lindsey said, pulling me from the comfort of my own thoughts and back to the situation at hand.
“Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry to inconvenience you,” I said looking down at my feet embarrassed. This was a first.
“Not this,” she said, motioning with her finger between the two of us. “This.” I looked up to see her pointing out the windshield. It seemed that we had a front row seat to an all-on dog orgy happening in the middle of the driveway before us. I had not even realized the car had stopped, or that we had turned into a driveway that I presumed led to her house. Lindsey jumped out of the car, shooing the dogs out of the way. I laughed at the sight of her, kicking the air around the dogs, hoping to scare them out of their sex induced coma. After about two minutes of swearing and kicking and shooing, the dogs broke up and decided to take their business elsewhere, but not before shooting Lindsey a look that had her giving them the finger in retaliation which made me laugh harder.
“Fucking dogs. You would think they could find somewhere else to fornicate other than my driveway,” Lindsey mumbled, mostly to herself when she got back in the car.
“Who do they belong to?” I asked, still laughing.
“Me. I got them from a Wal-Mart parking lot salesman for ten dollars. They are just mutts but they let me know when someone is coming over. There is a bitch in heat somewhere, so that’s all they have been studying for the past few days. Just like a damn man.” I laughed, Lindsey was funny, although I knew she was not trying to be. “Well, welcome to my ponderosa,” Lindsey said, putting the car in park and getting out.
Lindsey’s house was a small wooden framed cottage that was painted a light blue. A white picket fence went around the front of the house and opened into a small garden. We walked up the steps onto the porch that housed two white rocking chairs. The porch went down the side of the house and across the front. The railing was white and looked freshly painted. I had always imagined Lindsey living in an apartment somewhere, so it was surprising to see how much pride she took in the small cottage. Now that I had seen it, I could not imagine her living anywhere else. She opened the front door, which I noted was not locked and led me inside the living room. “Make yourself at home,” she said, throwing her purse on the turquoise couch and walking out of the room.