Claude has me on the sidewalk when I finally open my eyes. I hope that when I open my eyes, the last hour or so would be just a dream. But sadly, that isn't the case.
"Leslie," Claude tells me. "I need you to breathe."
This time, I take deeper breaths and keep a rhythm. In and out, in and out. My hands are tightly gripping Claude's forearms as I sit on the curb; I might fall over without his support.
"I'm sorry. It just...I just—"
"Don't apologize." He says to me, his blue eyes wise and trusting. "You need to get out of here; you've had enough for today."
** This scenario seems too familiar to me. You know—the scenario of me crying on my kitchen floor while trying to calm my nerves with a glass of wine. The familiarity of this is probably what's hardest. It seems like my life is a cycle of reoccurring events. Sebastian's gone, and I'm here surrounded by a broken wine glass. But I'm not the innocent one; I went after him shortly after he left me flustered and deceived against my kitchen sink. There was broken glass involved in that, too. Broken glass, screaming, pushing, hitting. Most of that done by me. I'll take the blame for that. I suppose it's best to explain the events that came after Sebastian left me in my kitchen. I c
the giverthat's what I amI give and give yet receive nothingwhether it's giving my body to my mothergiving my heart to my partnergiving my mind to my jobi give until there is nothing left of mei am left with nothingand those I had given tosee the flaws of my giftssee them as thrift instead of goldis who I am cheap to you?i am leslie king!but what weight does that name carrybesides the weight of my body my mother said I had too much ofthe weight of my heart when he made it heavythe weight of my brain when work became too muchi give and givebut when will I receive?
I, Leslie King, after years of being so blind and so naive to the truth in front of me, have finally seen the light.Not in terms of death or an innovative idea that could help progress society as we know it. No, more of a "spiritual" or "personal" sense of discovery.After a year with my loyal and successful boyfriend, Hudson Maximus Bradford...III,to be exact I have finally caught him in the act to counter argue the loyalty I so liked to believe was part of his nature.And out of all instances to catch him in said act, it had to be at my company fundraiser.And as I sit, lonely, unable to process the events that have occurred just one mere hour ago, everything else seems to make sense. My boyfriend, nowex
The moment my eyes flutter open I realize that I have actually fallen asleep on my kitchen floor. I separate my eyelids and am welcomed to a blur before I see the world sideways. Pedro's head, the dishwasher, bottom cabinet, sunlight pouring in from my kitchen window, and the puddle of the little Moscatto left over spilled all over the floor; all sideways. Pedro is rapidly licking the wine off the floor. In my disoriented, head throbbing, muscle aching state, I don't have the energy to scold him for doing something as ridiculous as licking wine off of the floor. And during this moment I realize I am a horrible and irresponsible canine adoptive mother. I groan as I push myself up, hissing shortly after due to the new pain in my neck and lower back. Pedro sees I'm fully awake and
Garret isn't moving, nor am I. Instead, we stare at each other like we each have two heads. Only difference is, I'm the one who looks like a complete fool in reality, with coffee dripping from my mouth."I'm...sorry, Sir I'll...clean up this mess." I finally say. I can feel my face tingle, and I know that a blush is creeping up to light that will eventually be impossible to hide.Garrett laughs as I quickly stand up. "Don't worry about it, Leslie. I'll call someone to clean this up."Still chuckling, Garrett gets up and walks to his desk. He looks small in comparison with the giant piece of polished Italian wood in front of him and huge windows that stand behind him.As Garrett picks up the phone on his desk, I finally take the
An extra thirty minutes is needed to look through the unmentioned information on Sebastian Harrison, my new "client." Apparently I learned that he is allergic to peanuts and strawberries, stands six feet, two inches tall, and was part of the "Young Astronomers" club when he was nine at his prestigious and very expensive Los Angeles private school.Darcy, my timid yet oh-so reliable assistant, is internet surfing for alleged guest related intelligence on the Opera tomorrow night. Somehow, I'm certain she's actually watching cat videos like I've caught her doing before. Still, it's Sunday, and if I can have any type of preoccupation in Darcy's way to prevent her from asking me personal questions and referring me to her therapist, I'll take it gratefully."Andrea Bocelli is the headliner!" She abruptly exclaims.
Even after Sebastian's presence is long gone, I still feel the lasting effects of him. And I don't like it.Not only is Sebastian's behavior something that can be categorized with the behavior of a womanizer and a brash twelve-year-old boy mixed together, his inability to accept the fact that not every woman will fall to his feet at his superior good looks and female-concentrated charisma makes me want to gag.So now I'm standing in front of the secretary's desk, trying to understand what on earth just happened. In truth, I feel excited at the thought of being flirted to, despite my effort to wade off his advances, but that excitement soon dissipates when I remember that Sebastian was only looking for a good lay.One thing I also remember, is that I have to work personally
The theater lights dim around the entire complex, and when the brightness subsides, modest applause amplifies in the faint darkness.We all decided to change the seating arrangements moments before. I sit next to Sebastian, Garrett sits next to me, while he sits next to Michael Sunders. Behind us, is Lucinda, and Michael's personal assistant, who just came inside the section after taking a long phone call, hence the reason why I hadn't seen him before.Even in the dark I can see Sebastian's face pressed hard into a frown. I nudge him slightly, and when I do he slowly turns to face me. His strong jawline is hardened at the sight of me."Lighten up. You don't want anyone to think you aren't happy," I tell him."But I'm not happy."