“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…
a Partridge in a Pear tree”
“Byron!” Sadie dropped her bag in shock. “Who is that?” She pointed at the statuesque brunette with her legs wrapped around her boyfriend’s waist in his bed. The bed she helped him pick out.
“Listen, Sadie,” he panted, “give me a minute, all right.” The brunette, seemingly oblivious to her presence, kept caressing his ass, and appeared to have no intention of stopping, either.
Gagging, Sadie covered her mouth. She was going to be sick.
“Damn it, Sadie! Don’t you get sick on my rug, it cost me five grand.”
She turned her green/gray face to him—her heart seizing up. “You have your dick in another girl and all you can say to me is not to get sick on your rug? Are you outta your freaking mind?”
“Yeah, babe,” he breathed, his hips moving faster.
Sadie noticed belatedly he wasn’t even talking to her. No, he was talking to the whore he had in his bed. His hips slammed into her big bottom, making a slapping noise.
“Jesus, Byron!” Sadie hoped the bitch had a STD to give him for Christmas. She grabbed her bag off the floor and headed for the door. On her way out, she spotted Byron’s “Special Occasion” Cabernet Sauvignon wine on the counter. Grabbing up the bottle, she quickly removed the cork. Walking purposefully back to his room she stood in the doorway. “Hey Byron…”
Byron lifted his sweaty, red face, his hips slamming down in mid thrust.
“Merry Christmas, Asshole!” She dumped the entire bottle of his “Special Occasion” wine on his five thousand-dollar carpet.
“Damn it, Sadie,” he yelled, not even breaking his rhythm.
“Unbelievable.” She turned and grabbed her bag off the table and walked out the door.
The elevator swished down the shaft, dinging one floor at a time. Sadie was barely keeping it together. Images of Byron, her boyfriend of two years, banging a dirty whore in his bed, were emblazed in her mind. If the elevator guy wasn’t standing next to her she probably would have broken down in sobs or screamed. She wasn’t sure which.
With a final ding, the doors slid open. Sadie rushed out of the door. “Oh God, sorry,” she said, to whoever she just rammed with her head.
“Are you all right?” a distinguished sounding man asked, trying to keep her upright.
“Oh, I am fine,” she sniffed, and stumbled forward, her ankle twisting. Her purse landed on the glossy lobby floor with a loud thud, the contents spilling out. “Oh hell!” she wailed, and dropped down to her knees. “Oh perfect,” she laughed/cried.
“Here, let me help you.” The man reached out and picked up a plastic covered oblong object, handing it to her.
“NO!” It was too late. He was holding a tampon. “Great.” She shook her head and took it from him. “Thanks.” She shoved it back inside her torn shoulder bag.
“Can I help you with anything?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Oh sure,” she sniffed. “You wouldn’t happen to know any decent guys from like another century to fix me up with because all the ones from this century are ASSHOLES!”
“Really?” asked the man, with the refined English sounding voice.
“Yes, really,” she snapped and then she shook her head, completely embarrassed by her outburst. “I am sorry. I am not usually like this …” Tears clouded her vision. “I’ve just had a really bad couple of days.”
“It is all right,” he assured her, helping her to her feet once more.
“Thanks,” she said, standing. “I just wish…”
“Yes?”
“Oh God, sorry,” she gushed. “You don’t need to hear about my crappy life.”
“What is it that you wish?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She took a deep shuddering breath.
“The holidays are just around the corner,” he reminded her. “Surely you have something in mind
“Do you know any knights in shining armor?” she joked.
“I am afraid the only knight I know of is already taken.”
“Funny.” She laughed then and looked up at him.
He gave her a bemused look.
She sighed. “It would be awesome if I could just meet a decent guy, you know. He doesn’t have to be perfect.” She made a face. “I’m not that picky. He can have some flaws but is workable, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” he assured her.
Her brow creased. “I better go before the Gestapo throws me out of here.” She glanced at the attendant that was making his way toward her. She pulled her purse back on her shoulder. “Sorry, about, you know, spilling my guts to you an all.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Well, thanks…”
“Milford,” he supplied. “My name is Milford.”
“Well Milford…” She gave him a wan smile. “I am Sadie, by the way, Sadie McAllister.”
“It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Ms. McAllister, and I will certainly keep you in mind.”
“Yeah…” She gave him an odd look and turned to walk away… the broken heal of her shoe flapped up and down as she limped toward the door.
Milford stood there for a moment, coming to a decision. “Oh, Ms. McAllister,” he called out quickly before he changed his mind.
She stopped at the revolving glass doors. The attendant now caught on the other side of the glass. She ignored him and looked back over her shoulder.
“You forgot something.” The man walked purposefully back to her side.
Her brow creased. “I did?”
“Yes.” He held out a folded white handkerchief.
“Oh that’s not mine.” She shook her head.
His eyes twinkled. “I know,” he said and leaned in conspiratorially. “I feel the item inside is what belongs to you.”
Her cheeks bloomed with color. Great he had another tampon. Flustered she took it from his hand and shoved it into her shoulder bag. “Well happy holidays,” she said.
“Yes, Ms. McAllister. Happy holidays to you as well. Good luck.”
“Huh?” Good luck? She turned around to ask what he meant but he was already gone.
Poof. Just like that. “Okay then.” She pushed through the revolving door and stepped onto the street. A brittle wind hit her square on and she gathered her too thin jacket around her body, making her way back home.