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Just as the conversation was ending, he asked for a small favour. Since my condo was fully furnished and nicely decorated, he wanted to show it to a prospective buyer who was thinking of buying a similar unit, two floors below. I told him that, as it turned out, Chloe was home for the day. She would be there to greet them.
I texted her to let her know that Benito would drop by soon, and then I carried on with my meetings.
Two hours later I got a text from Chloe: ‘Benito came and went. Going for, guess what – yup, dance lessons now, lol.’
I had almost forgotten that Chloe was tentatively scheduled to meet up with Lexi for the first of their lessons. Knowing Chloe, she’d wait until all five of the sessions were complete, and she had the moves down-pat, before doing a dance for me. At least, it gave me something to look forward to.
The day dragged on. Every time I met a deadline, a new request surfaced. Every time I put out a fire, a new one sparked up. For every phone call returned, a new voice message appeared. For every email returned, two new ones appeared. Oh well, fuck it. Late in the afternoon, a few of my colleagues and I decided that we would do our brainstorming for the new business pitch in a nearby pub. It was always more enjoyable to jam on ideas over a beer, anyway. It gets the creative juices flowing, as they say.
Six of us went for beers. While our intent was to talk about business, we talked about anything but. Sports. Music. Our waitress. Movies. Sons of Anarchy. Politics. The news. Women. Sports again, but this time basketball, not football. Our waitress again, but this time her ass, not her tits.
Chloe and I texted one more time, to discuss dinner. I told her I’d bring home Thai food. She had finished her lesson with Lexi and was now having a coffee at Starbucks with her friend Holly.
‘Is everything OK with Holly?’ I texted.
‘The usual. More or less, yes.’ Chloe replied.
Holly had been relapsing of late, and I knew Chloe was concerned. We had decided a short time ago to stop loaning Holly money, as it only seemed to fuel her drug use. We kept reminding ourselves that we weren’t doing her any favors by giving her money as it would just end up in her arm, or up her nose. Showing tough love isn’t as easy as it sounds. You feel like shit when a friend needs you and you have to say no. That said, in the case of a druggie friend, it’s for their own damn good.
I picked up one spicy Thai noodle with chicken and one lemongrass beef over rice on the way home. We’d probably split the orders, so we could each have some of both. Even with food, Chloe and I were on the same page.
It felt good to finally get home after such a long day. I had a nice bottle of Napa Valley Pinot Noir tucked away and waiting for us, which I anticipated should hold up nicely with the Thai food. Upon opening the door, I could hear conversation, and I realized we had company. There was no doubt in my mind that, unwilling to give her money, Chloe likely suggested Holly come have dinner at our place instead. No matter what, it was ok by me. I would never turn my back on a friend of Chloe’s.
“I texted you, but it must have been while you were driving,” Chloe said, as she greeted me warmly at the door with a hug and a kiss.
“No problem, darling.” I whispered.
The three of us shared the two Thai dishes. Holly kept going out on the balcony to have a cigarette. Her body was craving something, and nicotine served as a distraction. We all hung out for a while, and then I retired into the bedroom to do some work. It wasn’t so much that I needed to do work, but I wanted to give Chloe and Holly some additional girl-talk time. Eventually, I turned my laptop off, while the faint sound of conversation still emanated from our living room.
In the middle of the night I awakened to find Chloe snuggled up beside me. She was curling into my body for additional warmth.
“Holly is sleeping on our couch,” she said.
“No worries, hun.”
In the morning, we made coffee while Holly slept. We decided to let her stay in the condo while we went to work. We jokingly asked each other if there was any cash hanging around. Not that Holly would ever intentionally steal from us, but cash would be too tempting to resist.
I didn’t give it a second thought while at work. I’m sure Chloe was in touch with Holly, checking in with her by phone, but it had completely slipped my mind. I got home at a reasonable time that evening, only to find our front door slightly open. Inside, Chloe was sitting on our couch, all alone, crying.
“She stole your jewelry, Jack,” she looked up at me with sadness in her eyes.
“What jewelry?” It was a genuine question as I had a couple of watches, and a few pieces of gold that my grandmother had given me, but the word jewelry threw me off.
In our bedroom sure enough, Holly had gone searching, probably for money, and found my Rolex, my Movado, and yes, the gold necklace, tie pin and cross that my grandmother had gifted me as a child. I asked Chloe about her jewelry box, which was filled with expensive stuff, relative to mine. Among other things, I had recently purchased her a set of diamond earrings. Luckily Chloe had hidden it away, and Holly never found it. Chloe looked around, and as far as she could gather, the only things stolen were my two watches, and gold.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.”
“Awww, listen darling, who cares?” I gave Chloe a big long hug, “It’s just stuff, not that important.”
It took me a good twenty minutes to reassure her, that in grand scheme of things, the loss of a few material things was insignificant. I also went out of my way to ensure Chloe knew I did not blame her, or hold her responsible in any way. Letting Holly spend the day at our place was a joint decision. I tried to explain that – bigger than the material loss – this was a true sign of just how desperate Holly had become. It must have torn Holly apart to steal our stuff, but a druggie can’t control him or herself.
Shortly afterward Chloe received a text: ‘Sorry. Had to do it. I will repay you both. Promise. I will. Consider it a loan.’
Chloe and I looked at each other thinking the same thing: yeah right.
Chloe’s View:
It felt so nice to have a mid-week day off. They were re-doing the carpeting in our law office, and the company decided to give the entire staff the day off. It was a bonus vacation day, and a pleasant sunny San Francisco one at that. Jack was busy with his big new business pitch, or perhaps, he would have joined me. Although, I must admit, I was looking forward to accomplishing a lot in one day.
In the morning, I tried to get a few errands done. I was still re-arranging wedding photographs, both digital pictures and printed photos, which I was assembling into three albums. I was also tidying up and putting things in their proper place. I found a glass butt plug in my underwear drawer, and set it atop my end table so I could re-wash it and put it in the box where we store our sexy toys. Funny how things like the flashlight, the scissors, the screwdrivers, or the butt plugs always seem to mysteriously move around the house, on their own. Well, at least my butt plug wasn’t in the kitchen drawer. That would be difficult to explain to Jack’s mom.
Jacked texted me to inform me that Benito wanted to use our condo to do a showing. Oh crap. Really? I don’t want that jerk here without Jack. I contemplated going for a walk while they looked around our condo, but that might appear rude or unaccommodating. So I decided to stay and make myself busy.
When I heard a knock on the door, I grimaced. Here goes nothing; I might as well get it over with. I really wish Jack was home.
I opened the door, and Benito waited for me to motion him in before entering our condo. I must admit he was especially polite and respectful: “I’m really sorry to bother you, Mrs. Gibb. May I call you Chloe?” he asked.
Then I realized he wasn’t being polite for my benefit, but rather for that of the two prospective buyers who accompanied him. I’m sure he wanted to look all unassuming and courteous for their benefit, not mine. The couple was middle-aged, with the wife appearing to look a little younger, and were very well dressed. When Benito called the man ‘Doctor,?
?? I thought maybe he worked at our UCSF Medical Centre. Now that would be impressive. As they walked through the condo, they admired our décor, and in particular, they mentioned the new Anthony Hopkins painting. That made me smile. I must remember to tell Jack.
