Jamie McGuire - Beautiful Oblivion

“I don’t want my ears sagging. That’s gross.”

“You don’t have to size up. We can just start with a sixteen gauge. That’s teeny! Just, like . . .” She curved her thumb and index finger to form a tiny hole in the center.

I shook my head. “No, sweets. I did the nose. I love it. I’m good.”

“You love mine!” she said, becoming more deflated by the second.

“Yes. Yours. I don’t want that for my ears.”

Hazel ripped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash, and then she cursed, a lot, in Tagalog.

“Trent will be here any minute,” I said. “Get a new tat. Blow off some steam.”

“That works for you. I need to stab things. That’s what brings me peace.”

“Weird,” I said, walking back to the front.

Trenton blew in, his keys dangling from his finger. He was clearly in a good mood. “Baby,” he said, rushing to stand next to me. He gripped my arms. “The car’s running. I need you to come with me for a second.”

“Trent, the shop’s open, I can’t—”

“Cal!” Trenton yelled.

“Yeah?” Calvin called from the back.

“I’m taking Cami to see it! We’ll be back in less than an hour!”

“Whatev!”

Trenton looked at me, eyes bright. “C’mon!” he said, pulling me by the hand.

I resisted. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, leading me to the Intrepid. He opened the door for me, and I sat inside. He ran around the back, and then slid into the driver’s seat.

He drove fast to wherever we were headed, playing the radio a little louder than usual, as he tapped the steering wheel to the beat. We pulled up to Highland Ridge, one of the nicer apartment complexes in town, and parked in front of the office. A woman about my age was standing outside in a pants suit and heels.

“Good morning, Mr. Maddox. You must be Camille,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Libby. I’ve been looking forward to today.” I shook her hand, unsure about what was going on.

Trenton took my hand as we followed her to a building on the backside of the property. We climbed the stairs, and Libby pulled out a thick set of keys, using one to open the door.

“So, this is the two-bedroom.” She held out one arm and twirled slowly in a half circle. She reminded me of one of those women on The Price Is Right. “Two bathrooms, seven hundred square feet, washer and dryer hookup, refrigerator, garbage disposal, dishwasher, fireplace, carpet throughout, and up to two pets allowed with pet deposit. Eight eighty a month, eight eighty deposit.” She smiled. “That’s without pets, and that includes water and trash. Trash pickup is on Tuesdays. Pool is open May through September, clubhouse year-round, fitness center twenty-four/seven, and of course designated, covered parking.”

Trenton looked to me.

I shrugged. “It’s amazing.”

“Do you love it?”

“What’s not to love? This blows my place out of the water.”

Trenton smiled at Libby. “We’ll take it.”

“Uh . . . Trenton, can we . . . ?” I pulled him into a bedroom and shut the door.

“What, baby? This place isn’t going to have vacancies for long.”

“I thought you wouldn’t have the money until after Travis’s fight?”

Trenton laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “I was saving up for a year’s worth of rent and bills, including my half of dad’s. I can afford to move us in now.”

“Wait, wait, wait . . . did you just say us?”

“What’d I say?” Trent asked, confused. “You just said you loved it and it was better than your place.”

“But I didn’t say I was going to move in, too! I said the opposite last night!”

Trenton stood there with his mouth open. It snapped shut, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so . . . I have a key to your place, you have a key to mine. See how it goes. No pressure.”

“I don’t have to have a key to your apartment right now.”

“Why not?”

“I just . . . I don’t need one. I don’t know, it feels weird. And why do you need a two-bedroom?”

Trenton shrugged. “You said you needed your space. That room is for whatever you want it to be.”

I wanted to hug him and tell him yes and make him happy, but I didn’t want to move in with my boyfriend. Not yet, and if I did, it would be a natural progression, not this ambushing bullshit. “No.”

“No to what?”

“To everything. I’m not taking a key. I’m not moving in. I’m not getting gauges. Just . . . no!”

“Gauges . . . what?”

I stormed out, running past Libby, down the stairs, and back to the Intrepid. Trenton didn’t make me stand in the cold long. He slid in next to me and started the car. As it warmed up, he sighed. “I picked a bad week to quit smoking.”

“Tell me about it.”

BUSY WITH PACKING AND MOVING, TRENTON WASN’T around much for the next week. I helped him when I could, but things were awkward. Trenton was more than a little disappointed about me not moving in. He couldn’t hide his feelings any better than I could, which wasn’t always a good thing.

Saturday night, Raegan was sitting on our love seat, flipping channels in a show-stopping cocktail dress. The single shoulder strap looked like shimmering diamonds, and the rest was curve-hugging red satin. The sweetheart neckline made it that much sexier. Her silver heels were sky-high, and her hair was straight, shiny, and half up, half down.

“I wish Blia were here. This moment definitely calls for one of her customized phrases. You are flawless.”

Her buff lip gloss glistened against her brilliant smile. “Thanks, Cami. What are your plans tonight?”

“Trenton was going to unpack for a little while after he left Skin Deep, but he said he’d be here by seven. Travis is having a rough time lately, so he’s going to check on him and then come over.”

“So you’re taking the night off?”

I nodded.

“Brazil is picking me up at seven thirty.”

“You don’t look all that happy about it.”

She shrugged.

I walked into my bedroom, and slid open my closet doors. The left one was hanging off the track, so I had to be careful. My clothes were carefully categorized by type and subtype, and then by color. Sweaters were hanging on the far left, various shirts, denim, and then dresses on the right. I didn’t have very many—I was more focused on paying bills than padding my wardrobe, and Raegan let me borrow a lot of her stuff, anyway. Trenton was taking me to some fancy Italian restaurant in town, and then we were going to have a few drinks at the Red. It was supposed to be a laid-back evening. His card and present were sitting in a red gift sack on top of my dresser. It was fairly lame, but I knew he would appreciate the gesture.

I pulled out the only thing that was close to appropriate: a black crocheted dress with a white liner and three-quarter-length sleeves. With a modest scoop neckline, it was the one dress I owned that didn’t accentuate my cleavage and wouldn’t draw attention at a nice restaurant. I slipped on a pair of red heels and matching red necklace and earrings, and called it good.

There was a knock on the door just before seven, and I jogged across the floor. “Don’t get up. It’s probably Trent.”

But it wasn’t. It was Brazil. He looked at his watch. “Sorry I’m so early. I was just sitting around the house and . . .”

Raegan stood up, and Brazil was speechless for a moment. His mouth pulled to the side. “You look nice.”

I frowned. Raegan looked like a million bucks, and I could tell Brazil was intentionally acting unimpressed. He wasn’t being mean about it, but there was a hint of regret in his eyes. Raegan didn’t even complain about his nonreaction, she just mirrored his expression, and then picked up her purse from the breakfast bar.

“Better bring a coat, Ray,” Brazil said. “It’s chilly.”

I opened the front closet and handed her black dress coat to her. She offered a small smile in thanks, and then they closed the door behind them.

I returned to my room and finished my hair. Seven came and went, and so did seven thirty. At eight, I picked up my phone and turned it over. Nothing. I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.

At fifteen ’til nine, I was sitting on the love seat, playing a stupid bird game on my cell phone. It didn’t help my already building anger that Trenton hadn’t called to explain his lateness.

Someone knocked on the door, and I leaped to my feet. I opened the door to find Trenton, or part of him, because he was hidden behind a vase full of several dozen dark red roses.

I gasped and covered my mouth. “Holy hell, are those for me?” I asked.

Trenton walked in and set the vase on the bar. He was in the same clothes he wore to work, and suddenly I felt overdressed.

When he turned, he wasn’t smiling.

“What? Is Travis okay?” I asked.

“His bike was parked at Ugly Fixer Liquor’s, so probably not.”

I hugged him tight. “Thank you for the flowers.” When I realized his hands were still at his sides, I pulled away.

Trenton was clearly working to keep his face smooth. “They were delivered to the shop late, after you left. They’re not from me.”

“Who are they from?” I asked.

He pointed to the vase. “There’s a card.”

I walked over and plucked the miniature red envelope from its plastic holder. When I pulled the card out, my lips moved but nothing came out as I quickly read the words.

I talked myself out of this several times this week, but I had to.

Love always,

T.

I closed my eyes. “Damn it.” I laid the card upside down and flat on the light-green Formica and held it there, glancing at Trenton. “I know what you’re thinking.”