The Bedroom Blog

Moving on From a Very Important Relationship

Chloe toys with calling her ex. 

By Alessandra Torre

I didn't call Vic. I put on my Marc Jacobs big girl pants and wrote him a letter. A polite, firm letter in which I thanked him for the gift, and for the thought, but refused it. I wrote that we were no longer together and that I didn't feel such gifts were appropriate. I signed it, sealed it, then wrapped it and the Tiffany's box together and put it in a bag for his driver to pick up.

Five minutes later, the letter was in the trash and the earrings were in place. I glanced at my watch, realized I had less than twenty minutes to escape before Cammie got home, and called Benta.

"Want to grab dinner?"

She didn't hesitate, and forty-five minutes later we were sitting at a rooftop bar and ordering drinks.

"Cute earrings," she noted gesturing with her skinny straw toward my ears.

"Thanks." I waved to the bartender, trying to distract this conversation with appetizers.

"They look like something I saw a few weeks ago. In a box from Vic."

Shit. I stopped trying to get the bartender's attention and turned to her. "You knew?"

Of course she knew. Cammie can't get her eyebrows waxed without a sidekick so as soon as Vic had dropped off the gift, Cammie had called Benta. They'd had a pow-wow and decided I was better off not knowing.

"I told her it was too risky keeping them at her house, especially with you staying there." She rolled her eyes, as if to say, rookie mistake.

I fought the urge to throw my drink in her face. How dare they? "I'm a big girl. I can handle Vic. It wasn't up to either of you to keep that from me."

"Oh please!" Benta's cheeks flushed. "Do you remember what you were like after that break up? How you lived on your couch, binge watching the Kardashians and subjecting every poor food delivery guy to the sad story of how you'd just had your heart broken?" It was true. I still couldn't order from my favorite pizza place. "I know you. Right now, you're thinking that you should call Vic. That you should thank him for the lovely gift, that you should be the one to patch things up. Let me tell you, Vic bought that present with the change rattling around in his Bentley. It's not like he thought out the gift and is sitting by the phone, anxiously waiting on your call."

I shut my mouth. Wasn't he? I fingered the earrings. They felt cold.

"Forget Vic. It's a new year and a new you. Let me set you up with this guy at work. He's gorgeous, Chloe, and he's hilarious."

"Then why aren't you dating him?"

"He's too passive for me. I need a man who'll fight back when I kick."

Too passive. Wow, she knew how to sell them. "Pass. I could use some singledom."

"You've been single for nine months. It's long enough."

Food came, saving me from a witty response, and I pulled out my phone. Checked my new work email and saw a few from Nicole. Skimmed their contents and murmured support while Benta checked out the bartender's ass.

The last email caused me to look up, catching her mid-sip of my drink. I snagged it back. "Nicole just emailed me saying we are going to Vegas week after next."

"Sounds fun. For what?"

"The…" I scrolled down the email. "Adult Entertainment Expo. Not sure what that is. Probably super boring, but yay Vegas!"

Benta's snort — mid-crunch of a shrimp — caused me to jerk my head up, just in time to see her eyes water as she pounded her chest. She waved off my help, grabbing her ice water and holding up a finger as she drank.

When she finally came up for air, her voice wheezed. "The Adult Entertainment Expo? I forgot you were working for the condom supplier of the world."

"Why — what is it?" My phone wouldn't cooperate, a Google search taking as long as Benta to put me out of my misery. I looked at her impatiently.

"It's a porn convention. In Vegas. Better leave your prude shoes at home." She winked and grabbed my drink, toasting me while finally getting the last of her shrimp — and my daiquiri — down.