Not Really a Love Story -Fiction

 Not Really a Love Story

"Weren't you scared he'd kidnap you?"

I sit up in the beautician's chair. "What do you think I should have done? He pulls up to our joint in his limousine. We have never had a customer of that caliber before, and he comes in and orders. HE ORDERS! He didn't send his driver in. The owner of that two-hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle stands in line and orders for himself.

"So, I give him his bag of greasy food, embarrassed really, because it looked so cheap in my hands, almost as if I had fished it out of the dumpster. And that billionaire takes it, but then he grabs my hand. I'm shaking now. What did I do wrong? I know what I did wrong. I gave him the world's crappiest food. What did he expect coming to our hole in the wall? He let go of the food bag, and I had to catch it before it hit the ground.

"'Grubby girl, carry that out,' he said to me in the most demeaning manner that anyone had used with me. But I was mesmerized. Maybe I could sneak a peak in his limousine. So, I carried it out, and his driver opened the limo door, and the billionaire said to me, 'Crawl in there and put it in the fridge for me.'"

"Again, weren't you scared he'd kidnap you?"

"Did you hear what you just asked? Was I scared this billionaire would kidnap me? I hoped he'd kidnap me. So, awkwardly I climbed in. How does one elegantly climb into a limo? He followed right behind. I mean, I could feel his breath on my neck."

Janice, my beautician, picks up a towel and fans herself. "Lucky." She wipes it on her red cheeks.

"Slam, he closed the door behind us. Now, I am confused. I mean, what was going on? And, honestly, I did get scared. And that man just stares at me. His eyes seemed locked onto mine. I look in my lap, unable to handle the intensity of this powerful man, trapping me in his limo and staring at me."

"Did he kiss you?" Janice asks as the towel slips out of her hand. My story mesmerizes her, and she forgets to do my hair.

"I might have pepper-sprayed him if he did. I had it clutched in my pocket. But, no, he didn't kiss me. After what felt like thousands of years, he reached over me, his body rubbing against mine, and…" I pause.

"And what!" Janice's eye wrinkles deepen as her hands grip the front of her smock.

"And he opened the door on my other side and told me to get out."

"Like, sharply? Or nicely?"

I stop to remember. "Sharply, as if he had just realized a pile of garbage sat in his precious car. So, I stumbled out and landed with my forehead to the pavement. Strong hands lifted me up, and I saw it was his driver. And then, like that, the limo pulled away."

"You must have been shocked."

"I don't know what I was. That was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. I went back into my fast-food joint. All the other workers surrounded me, digging for details. I could hardly speak. I had left my mind in the backseat of the limo."

"Ha, ha, that was funny."

I smile at Janice. "Well, it took about a week for my nerves to settle, and just when they had, that limo returned."

"No way." Janice pops her gum in my ear, and I squinch down.

"Yes. And, just like before, the billionaire walked into the restaurant. He ordered the same garbage food, but when my coworker Hillary tried to hand it over, he shook his head and said, 'No, have grubby girl give it to me.' Hillary lets out a huge sigh of disappointment. She probably wanted her turn in the limo. When I went to hand him the greasy bag, he just turned his back to me and walked out of the restaurant. So, I ran after him, and just like before, the driver opened the door, and the billionaire commanded me to put it in the fridge."

Janice shook her head back and forth.

"And, just like before, all the same stuff happened. Except, this time, when I left, I made sure to land on my feet and not my forehead."

"You must have been going crazy with wonder," Janice says as she sits in the empty seat beside me. She has a box on her lap and fishes in it. "Gum?" She asks, presenting me with a piece of foil.

"No thanks," I reply. Should I remind her that she is doing my hair?

"Did you ever talk to him? -Ask him questions? I mean, I would have. I would have tried to be clever so he would take me somewhere." She adds a piece of gum to the wad already in her mouth.

"Oh, believe me, I thought about it. But, whenever I was around him, just the mass of his power, his influence shut my lips. I had nothing to say."

"If that was me, I would have proposed to him," Janice bites her nails.

"Well, anyway, this went on and off like this for six months."

"Six months. Really? In all the six months, did you ever talk to each other?"

"Nope."

"Not even once?"

"Nope."

"That is weird."

"You are telling me. Anyways, though, as I was saying, this went on for six months. And then, one day, as I was climbing out of the limo, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back in. He took my finger and slipped the biggest rock in the world on it."

"No way!".

"Yeah, he did," I look at my naked ring finger.

"Did he say anything when he put it on your finger?"

My face heats out of embarrassment. "Yeah, he said, 'I can only assume your answer is yes.'"

"Seriously!" Janice jumps to her feet. "He sounds like a prick." She looks at my hair and must have remembered that she is styling it because she grabs her scissors.

"Hold on. You seem a little upset. Are you sure you should be using those right now?"

Janice studies her scissors and puts them on her station. "You are right. I need a minute." She walks away and returns with two Cokes out of the vending machine. She hands me one. I pop the tab as the sound sizzles. How long has it been since I drank from a can?

The bubbles burn my throat. Coke isn't my favorite, but it satisfies me.

Janice takes three long chugs, then sits down. "Go on."

"Let's see. Where was I?"

"He had given you the worst proposal I had ever heard."

"Right. So, I nodded yes."

"You didn't demand something better?"

"Listen," I say as I take another sip of Coke. "He intimidated me. Even though I had technically known him for half a year, I didn't know a thing about him. He scared me."

"Then, why did you say yes?"

I sheepishly glance away. "He was loaded. How could I say no? Here I was, working at a fast-food joint. I had no prospects for a good future. I couldn't say no."

"I wouldn't say no." Janice pops her gum.

"Exactly. So, when I got out of the limo, I turned to the driver and asked, 'Why,' as I showed him my ring finger. And he said, 'Meet me at Bulangio's tomorrow at 3 pm.' And I said--"

"Bulangio's!?" Janice jumps up.

"Yes."

"Lucky. Only the top restaurant ever."

"And I said, 'I have work at 3 pm.' And he said, 'Then quit. You are about to marry a billionaire.' That is when I learned my fiancé was a billionaire."

Janice picks up a brush and runs it through her hair. "Man, I wish a love story would happen to me."

"Love story. Ha! I wouldn't call it that. But, anyway, I went to Bulangio's and met the driver for coffee. He told me that Mr. VanDuken was the most powerful man in the state, and he told me about many of the franchises that he opened. I asked the driver why Mr. VanDuken, oh yea, by the way, that was the first time I learned his name."

"No way!"

"Way! Anyways, I asked why a man like that picked me, after all, a grubby girl. And the driver said that I had a stunning beauty, and I must have caught Mr. VanDuken's eye. But I was nothing like the girls he took out. And the driver told me that Mr. VanDuken didn't date. Sure, he had taken dates to social functions and galas, but they were always business arrangements. 'In ten years of being Mr. VanDuken's driver, he has never once shown interest in a woman. You are his first. You must be his first love.'"

Janice smiles. "Ah, you see. He loves you. It is a love story."

I snort, unladylike for me. "Hardly. But life changed quickly after that for me. I was moved into a penthouse that was larger than my high school had been. They filled the closet with my new wardrobe, which was…I don't even know how to describe it. Probably worth a billion dollars." I exaggerate.

Janice's eyes widen. She has eyes that pop out of her face. I continue. "Okay, not a billion, but some unreal amount. Anyways, I lived in the penthouse for five months as a team of people occupied every minute of my life, forming me into the billionaire's perfect wife. I had etiquette lessons, brand lessons, and image lessons.

"One day, when I became overstressed, I refused to get out of bed. The team was curt with me. I said to them, 'This is stupid. I am done being put through these hoops. Mr. VanDuken should accept me for who I am!' And they said, 'No. He is not in love with you. He is in love with who he is paying for you to be. If you aren't interested, then move along. He has millions of women knocking at his door to fill your role.'"

"Ouch, so what did you do?"

"I did the only logical thing. I became the Mrs. VanDuken he needed by his side."

"Burp!" Janice finishes her Coke. "I don't blame you. I would have done the same." She picks up my hand and looks at my naked ring finger. "So, where is that rock you said he had put on your finger?"

"I came from the beach. I never take it into the water."

"Yeah, I get that."

"But that is why I am here. I need my hair styled because I have a lunch date with Mr. VanDuken in two hours."

"You still call your husband Mr. VanDuken. Don't you use his name?"

The Coke slips into my windpipe, and I cough and cough. Janice gently slaps my back as if I were a baby and she could burp me. I wave her away. "I am sorry," I say when I settle myself. "Oh my," I wipe the tears from my eyes. "I would never address Mr. VanDuken by his name."

"How long have you two been married?"

"Five years."

"Has it been a good five years?"

How do I answer that? "Yes and no. I have been well cared for. I have any luxury in life I could dream of. I don't have to live in poverty anymore. So yes. It has been good."

"What about love?"

I look around the salon to ensure none of Mr. VanDuken's informants are here. I know we are alone, but it is a habit. "Let's just say there is zero love in our marriage. We are together when it benefits his image. That is all."

A limo pulls up outside of the salon. Instead of the driver walking in, to my surprise, Jarold, Mr. VanDuken's brother, enters. How stuffy of him to wear his three-piece Italian suit in a beach town.

"Andrea, you ready to go?" He asks in his air of sophistication.

"Oh shoot," Janice jumps up to finish my hair. "I am sorry. I was so distracted I forgot to do your hair."

Jarold rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Janice, can you have it finished within five minutes?"

"I'll do my best," she says with her hands flying.

"Jarold, you can wait in the car. I'll be right out," I say.

Jarold looks longingly at Janice. "I think I will wait in here." It's the first time I notice how attractive she is, even prettier than me.

"Suit yourself." I roll my eyes.

Surprisingly, Janice does good work in her sparse five minutes. After I walk onto the sidewalk, Jarold steps back into the spa. I poke my head in, curious as to what he is up to.

"Do you want to go for a ride?" He asks Janice.

She stumbles backward and looks at me with shock on her face.

"Um, Well, isn't that kind of weird for you to ask me?" She says to Jarold.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't that how you met your wife."

"I am not married."

Janice looks equally confused.

Jarold approaches her, breaching their social bubble.

"Aren't you, Mr. VanDuken?" Janice asks.

"I am," Jarold replies.

"Are you looking for a second wife?"

I laugh loudly, then cover my lips with my hand. Janice thinks Jarold is my husband. I had to speak out of turn to spare her further humiliation. "No, this is my husband's brother."

Janice's eyes bulge out. She stumbles backward again. "Let me fetch my purse," she says as her face lights up.

Jarold grabs her hand and says, "You won't need a purse with me." And like that, Janice's love story begins.

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Not Really a Love Story

by Stephanie Daich