To Love Again

The rain poured down in dark gray sheets onto the cold cement walkway. Struggling with both my umbrella and cell, I endured another of Melissa's rants.

“ You promised, Mikey! You promised that we could go to Paris the day after tomorrow! All of my stuff is packed, and I have the tickets. Just come home and I'll have your stuff ready by the time you get here. It's Paris, Mikey!”

I winced at her “cute” pet name for me, “ Melissa, you've been to Paris before. Twice. Why on Earth would you want to go again?” Glancing at traffic, I crossed at a deserted crosswalk. With my steps hurried and the water splashing at my pant legs, I imagined Melissa standing at the foot of the bed, her perfectly done up nails tapping away at the lacquered wood of the foot board. I felt a migraine building.

“ Ugh! I knew you wouldn't get it. I've been to Paris for jobs, Micheal. Not to watch a show. You know I've always wanted to see it from the crowd's perspective.” her voice grew haughty when she mentioned the crowds. I rolled y eyes. She's repeatedly complained about the crowds and how they had no appreciation for art.

“ Mel, if you want to go, fine. But I have work. I can't skip out.” I tried to calm her down. It didn't satisfy her.

“ Mikey! You know as well as I do that you don't need that job. I don't even know why you have it. I'm sure those van driving hooligans wouldn't notice if you left for a few days.”

I scowled into the phone, “ Driving an ambulance is hardly something to insult. Those men and women work to-”

“Yes, yes, work to save lives everyday. I've heard all this before. But really, you shouldn't devote all your time to it. You have a life you know.”

I clenched my jaw. She'd been saying that nearly every chance she had, trying to make it seem like I would be quitting my job for me. Truth be told, I'd rather be in that van than anywhere else. Especially Paris.

Melissa was still talking. “ Micheal, you remember, Jenna, right? Okay looking, big boobs? Course you do. Well, she's having a party and we just have to go. She had planned it for when I was going to be in Paris, the little slut, but I managed to convince her to move it to tomorrow. You know she has a total crush on you, right? It was the only reason she rescheduled.”

The idea of going to one of Melissa's friend's parties was exhausting in itself. Actually attending would most likely kill me.

I'd almost made it to the bus stop. If Mel had known I was taking public transportation, she'd freak on me, but it just felt weird calling up the driver.

The only reason I even had a driver was Melissa. I'd inherited an extremely large sum of money from my great grandmother when she passed on, and suddenly I'd become popular. I'd met Melissa one night at a night club my friend Garry had hauled me to, insisting that I needed to date again. She'd recognized my picture from the paper. The money I'd receive had been so extensive that it had warranted news coverage.

I knew she was a gold digger but I just didn't care. I sure wasn't going to use all of it and having a model for a girlfriend kept my friends off my back.

I hadn't realized I'd brought on something much worse. Melissa, with her long blond hair , stunning blue eyes, and a figure to drool over, was perfectly willing to spend my money. When she's found out I was riding the bus, like one of the “common” folk, she'd thrown a fit. Literally throwing things. I'd hired Thaddeus Springer to save the china.

Hiring the man hadn't been to horrible experience. I honestly like the guy. I just wasn't comfortable with bossing him around.

“ Are you even listening to me? I asked if you think we should match for the party or do a kind of contrast thing.” Melissa shrieked in my ear. I held the phone away from my head for a second, cautious that the shrieking wasn't over. Once I was sure it was safe, I replied.