Blake Simmons
The girlfriend_s lesson
CHAPTER ONE
"It comes down to compatibility… and Roy and I aren't…" A dour expression brought a far away look to Julie's eyes, as though she were focusing on something only she could see.
The vested waiter standing over her with a tray in his hand asked if she'd like a refill on her burgundy, but she didn't hear him. The buxom brown-eyed woman beside her signaled the impatient man with a shoo of her hand, then returned her pensive gaze to her distraught friend who looked as though she'd been waging an emotional war against something she was too weak to conquer.
True, Julie hadn't been her convivial self lately and, loving nothing better than a little friendly gossip, Ertha had insisted Julie enjoy the afternoon over a glass of burgundy wine at Henry's outdoor restaurant where leisure was king and more than one illicit affair had erupted hot and smoky from the tables sizzling with "who's fucking who" in round-robin gossip.
Besides, Ertha would have felt selfish hoarding the attention from the parade of eligible businessmen strutting their stuff in Gucci shoes and pin-striped suits as they dotted the tables surrounding her, shooting salacious grins in the direction of the black-haired vixen whose amulets and rings caught the shimmering sunlight in penetrating streaks that made any man sit up straight and take notice. For Ertha was more than a woman; she was a sexy witch with an aura of availability that no man, no matter how in love with his wife, could deny.
"I'm sorry, honey, now what were you saying…?" Ertha pulled her gaze from a table in the corner where last week's prey sat bored and rotting inside from his wife's dull company. Ertha took vain delight in the power she weighed over men: but now she cut it short and repeated her question, this time nudging Julie by the elbow to bring her back from her melancholic reverie that veiled her in a dark shawl of misery. "For God's sakes, Julie, it can't be all that bad… I mean now can you get hung up on one man when there's an ocean of them right here at your feet?" She tutted to her friend, then shot a warming smile at a man she'd been plotting to meet for the past week.
"I'm just tired… I didn't sleep a wink last night," Julie started, taking another sip of her wine, embarrassed to discover the glass had been drained on the last weary gulp.
Ertha rested her hand on Julie's slender arm, her bracelets twinkling as if to say, "Nothing is worth the misery, honey."
"Listen, Julie, I've known you since college and I know what your problem is… you're a martyr. God, look at all you've given up for that creep Roy. And what has he given you in return? Sure, so you went to a couple of neat parties, but you didn't have a chance to get loose or meet any of the musicians he was snorting cocaine with. Right? You told me so yourself, Julie."
Her friend shrugged. "Yes, that's what happened all right. I found out later he was in the lady's room smoking dope with one of those rock n' roll queenies." She closed her eyes and shook her head, then forced a pained smile that didn't last long. Her pixie face soured into a frozen grimace of faithless endurance as if she was waiting to be struck once more… to prove the misery she felt was real and deserved. The men around her noticed, too, and chose not to pursue interest in the petite looking woman whose China Doll sophistication contrasted so sharply with the sultry woman seated next to her.
Sipping from her water glass, she bolstered her strength and continued. "That seems to be happening a lot lately. We go places together, rarely and I end up watching his camera case while he goes off flirting with every woman around. I feel like an old hag, and I'm not even married! Whoever said living with a man was bliss, was full of shit!" she blurted out of control.