Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

didn’t you? How much did you manage to make out with?”

“I made out with nothing, Aidan –”

“Did you manage to pump diamonds out of him? Did you wait for him to fall asleep before you went through his wallet? Did you find the key to his safe? Now that was surprising. I didn’t think you’d stoop so low, get so desperate, but that’s the kind of cunt you are. You’re looking for your next paycheck, and it’s not coming from me. Now get the fuck out of my chair. Better yet, take the chair with you. I don’t want the stench of rotten, cold pussy in the air around me while I work.”

She’s stunned. Absolutely fucking astonished I’m talking to her in this way. I never have before. It leaves me with the most satisfying feeling. Once, I mourned her. I purged her from my system like you would a flu. Except she took a lot longer to get over. And like a fucking flu you've just recovered from, I woke up one day and I could breathe a lot better and my chest didn’t feel so tight.

It was the best fucking day of my life.

She stands up, looking lost. I step away from her. I’ll do anything not to feel her fucking touch. Even the slightest graze of her body brushing past mine will trigger me. I turn away and walk to the window. I stare out, waiting for her to leave. I hear her rummaging around me. She’s grabbing her things.

“You’re going to wind up a very lonely man, Aidan,” she tells me through shaky breaths. “A very lonely, cold, pathetic man. You always were weak. You wanna know the reason I ran off with Edgar? Because he knew how to take care of a woman.” Her voice grows louder, angrier. “You didn’t even know how to take care of yourself, you crazy fuck. Behind that arrogance is a little boy in a man’s body.” She scoffs, letting out a cold laugh. “All that money and you can’t find someone to help sort out your fucking whackjob issues. I was the only one that got the closest to figuring you out. Pretend all you want that you didn’t need the hit, go ahead and blame me for it, but you took that shit like your next breath and you unloaded everything on your doped up highs.

“If there’s one thing your father should have done, Aidan, he should have beat you a little harder on the head. You’d have been more useful as a dimmed down fuck.”

And there she is, the real Nina in all her glory. I look back at her and let her see the cold smile on my face. It’s not the reaction she wants. She lets out an angry huff and storms out of the office.

The second I hear the door slam shut, my smile fades.

I move to the chair and collapse into it. I look down at my shaky hand. My heart isn’t going crazy. I feel perfectly fine, and yet my body is trembling everywhere. I’ve learned to mute strong emotion, to protect myself from damage, but my body is reacting without the added emotion. It’s the most fucked up feeling.

There’s a knock on the door. Fran pokes her head in and looks apologetic.

“Mr West,” she says, “I’m sorry. She was still on your visitor’s list, and she made sure to let me know that –”

“It’s okay, Fran,” I cut in, gently. “Remove her from the list and that’ll be all.”

She leaves.

Feeling triggered, I pull my phone out of my pocket and message Ruth.

A.W.: Remind me.

Five minutes later, she responds.

Ruth: He who doesn’t look ahead remains behind.

Ruth: Every day you’re growing further away from the person you shed two years ago, my darling. Never stop.

Never stop.

Keep going.

I nod at the screen and pocket the phone.

Then I shut my eyes and breathe.

The Messenger

A.W.: I guess I should have known you would find out my name.

Ivy: I guess I should have known a rich man could find out my place of work. Naughty of you, Mr West.

A.W.: God, I’d love to hear you say that in person.

Ivy: Just so you know, I didn’t look you up or anything. My best friend Ana figured you out.

A.W.: Ah. Talking about me, Miss Montcalm?

Ivy: She was curious who I was talking to. Have your ears been burning?

A.W.: Fuck, every inch of me has been burning.

A.W.: You’re doing things to me, Ivy.

*Sometime later*

A.W: I’d like to go for that ice cream, Ivy.

Ivy: Ah, now you’re acknowledging that bit of convo from a few days ago?

A.W.: I’m looking for an excuse to see you. It’ll be innocent.

Ivy: I don’t trust you, Mr West. You got a little too close at the salon.

A.W.: Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.

Ivy: You deserve a little punishment for those not so innocent touches.

A.W.: You would punish me?

Ivy: I want to drop you to your knees.

A.W.: I’m already there.

Ivy: Maybe on your hands and knees, then.

A.W.: It’s like you keep moving the goalpost, thinking it will deter me. I’d crawl through needles just to see you, Ivy.

Ivy: Tempting, but I’m busy.

A.W.: Are you at home?

Ivy: No. I’m out.

A.W.: What are you doing?

Ivy: My, my, you really want to know.

A.W.: I do.

A.W.: God, I want to know everything you’re doing.

Ivy: I’m finishing up a lesson. It’s just me, my coffee, and a shitty wifi connection.

Fourteen

Ivy

I read the conversation from twenty minutes ago again. I bite my lip, holding back a smile. He doesn’t respond, like I expect. Aidan’s like a kid when he doesn’t get what he wants. His way of throwing a temper tantrum is nursing a wounded ego by stewing in silence.

I sort of like it. I like getting to him and drawing out those emotions. As horrible as it may sound, it’s nice having the upper hand every once in a while. I can’t always be the desperate girl hanging