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Drawn ApartChapter 6 free porn video
I was a little more distant toward Julie in the coming days. We still hadn't decided where she would be living — with me or on her own — but for now I cleaned out a spare bedroom that I had been using for storage and put a bed in there. I didn't always sleep there but I did occasionally.
Julie, I think, was hoping for a quicker resolution to our situation. But I just couldn't get let myself be put into a situation again where she could hurt me.
If Julie was having a difficult time separating work from the other portions of her life, I didn't recognize it. Every evening at 5 p.m. she would stop what she was doing and we would spend time together. We would take a walk or visit an ice cream parlor. We would hold hands and laugh like we were teenagers. But there was always an unspoken line that I was unwilling to cross.
On rare occasions she would pull out a notepad and jot down ideas but she wouldn't race back to her desk to put her ideas into pictures as he had in the past. For my part, work ended at 4 p.m. — OK, sometimes 5 p.m. — but when I left I didn't bring it with me.
The Tara situation didn't resolve itself easily. Julie's publicist gave the announcement that Julie wanted and it was greeted by a collective yawn. As I had believed, no one seemed to care. If they cared at all it was in a positive way. Besides, anyone who had seen more than a couple pieces of her work could recognize that she was the mind behind both her political punditry and "Tracy Takes Off."
At least it only took me one or two glances to know. But I might have had a head start.
Tara stayed in the background. She didn't contact, to my knowledge, Julie and Julie didn't try to contact her. I hated for Julie to end a friendship but I also knew me well enough to know that I couldn't commit to anything further until Tara was completely out of the picture. Perhaps it was selfish but I couldn't seem to forget what had happened with Armando.
The Danni situation also didn't resolve itself easily either. It wasn't a tense time at work but it was awkward. It appeared that everyone in the office was aware of Danni's feelings toward me long before I was. There were times I would see her with such a sad look on her face that I wanted to wrap my arms around her and protect her from whatever was bothering her. But I knew that I was likely the cause of her discomfort, so I couldn't help.
After a couple of weeks of watching someone I consider a friend studiously avoid me, I decided to face the problem head on. Probably not one of my better ideas.
"Are we going to be OK?" I asked her one afternoon when I managed to catch her alone. "I'm worried."
She smiled and the dimples made a reappearance for the first time in what seemed like months.
"We're going to be fine," she said. "I just have to work through some guilt and anger issues."
"You have nothing to feel guilty about," I assured her. "I don't want you mad at me. That's for sure. I don't feel guilty..."
Danni cut me off with a raised hand.
"I don't feel guilty about that night," she said sweetly. "I feel guilty because I hope Julie hurts you again. I hope she takes off and leaves for L.A. or Hong Kong or Timbuktu. I hope she drops you like she did last time so I can be the one to help you get over it."
Ever the master of words, I replied, "Oh."
"And I'm not angry at you or Julie," she continued. "A part of me is angry that I want to see her leave you again. But most of me is angry because I just sat around for two years and watched you. I didn't say a word. I didn't make a move. If I hadn't been drunk that night, I would still be sitting here pining away like a schoolgirl. It pisses me off that I let that opportunity go by."
I tried to calm the anger that I could see rising.
"Even if you had said or did something," I replied. "It wouldn't have changed the underlying circumstances. We still work in the same department and I'm still your boss."
Danni smiled at me again.
"I'm pretty marketable," she said with a grin. "I was approached discreetly about applying for the comptroller's job when Mark Jones left last year. About every three months one of our competitors tries to steal me away. Someone once told me I was selling myself short by working for a jackass like you instead of heading up my own department."
I knew who had told her that — it was me during her personnel evaluation the year before.
"Instead I stayed here," she went on. "I didn't want to be that far from you — even if it would only be a couple of offices down the hall. And I didn't want to have the last obstacle removed. If I left, there was no reason I couldn't ask you out. Then I would have to be willing to face the fact that you didn't find me attractive."
"A man who is not attracted to a witty, personable woman like you would be an idiot," I said. "I might be a jackass but I'm not an idiot. I just could never allow myself to think of you that way. When I did allow it, it led us here."
"Then there's Julie," Danni said. "I truly do like her. I would really enjoy being a friend to her. But every time I consider inviting her for coffee or for lunch, I picture myself leaping over the table and trying to scratch her eyes out for coming back into the picture. I don't think I would do that, but then again, I never thought I would wake half naked beside you after a drunken evening."
I smiled.
"I would guess you were about seven-eighths naked," I said. "That thong was pretty tiny."
Danni flipped me off.
"You know what I mean," she said. "I won't say I haven't pictured waking up that way with you before. But the circumstances that led us there were far different in my mind. In my original scenario you weren't tricked by a drunk when you were vulnerable."
I sighed.
"I wasn't tricked by a drunk and I wasn't vulnerable," I said. "I wasn't sober. I won't lie about that. But I was aware of who I was with and what I was doing. It was my idea to go home with you. I remember the taxi ride to your apartment and I remember us rushing to get our clothes off. I don't remember much after that. But I remember that I was as eager as you were. Most likely I was more eager."
Danni smiled her wonderful smile.
"It's nice to hear you say that," she said. "Honestly, I remember bits and pieces. You might be surprised that it was me who asked if we could just kiss and cuddle. You said that would be fine with you. Please don't think I regret our night. And please don't think I hope it will never happen again. But I do need a bit more time to work through my feelings before we can get back to normal. Or what passes for normal for us."
A week later she stopped into my office and closed the door.
She sidled up to my desk and plopped her shapely behind on the corner of it.
"You know, it occurs to me that there is only one portion of my anatomy that remains a mystery to you," she said in her fake drawl as she turned her knees toward me. My eyes were immediately drawn to the hem of her short skirt because I knew what she was talking about. A millisecond before I got a glimpse she hopped off my desk and moved to the chair.
"A little mystery is good," she said deadpan. "It adds spice."
A day later she begged off a two-day trip to Denver. When I returned, I found a letter of resignation on my desk and vacant terminal where she used to sit.
"Don't worry," Belinda told me as I stood there in stunned silence. "She took a job as the marketing director for Stroechine. She didn't want a going away party yet. She'll call you in a couple of weeks. David, this isn't about what happened. Well, part of it is. Mostly, it is about her moving up, just like you always told her she should."
Tara came to the forefront soon after.
I was still reeling about Danni's departure — and the way she handled it — when Julie got a phone call in the middle of the night. She and I still weren't sharing a room every night, to her disappointment, I think, and I heard yelling coming from where Julie slept.
I raced to the room to make sure she was OK but I found her sitting on the bed, white-faced and shaking.
"Tara just told me she swallowed a bottle of pills," she said. "What in the fuck am I going to do?"
"Call 911," I said. "Tell them what you just told me and ask them to alert the L.A. sheriff's department and EMS. Give them Tara's address and they'll take care of it."
It was all I had. We were 400 miles away. I was trying to hide my anger at Tara for being such a manipulative cunt but I don't think it was working so I turned to leave the room.
"I have to go to L.A.," Julie said through her tears. I tried to bite back my retort and failed once again.
"People intent upon killing themselves don't call someone to announce it," I said flatly. "She is interested in dragging you back to her."
"What do you expect me to do?" Julie asked hotly.
"Send her a box of razor blades," I replied evenly. "Tell her if she's serious to go longways. If she's not serious then she should leave you the fuck alone."
Julie stared at me.
"When did you get so unfeeling?"
I gave a mirthless chuckle. "About five years ago," I said as I left the room.
Julie did go to L.A., of course. I hadn't doubted for a moment that she would. In fact, she was gone for the airport before I got up the next morning. She left me a note telling me she would call me when she landed.
"I'm sorry, David," she told me when she called. "She needs me. I had to come down here."
I told her I knew she did.
"I'll be home soon," she said. That part I doubted.
"Whenever you're ready," I replied.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked with anger in her voice.
"I mean just what I said," I told her. "Come back when you're ready to come back. Don't come back before you want to."
"You're pissed because I won't do what you want me to do," she stated.
Again I gave the mirthless laugh from the night before.
"If I were mad every time you didn't do something I wanted, I would have spent the first 10 years we knew each other pretty much angry all the time," I rejoined. "I'm angry because you're allowing yourself to be played by a conman — in this case a conwoman — again."
"You don't know her," Julie said. "How can you say that?"
"I don't know her," I replied. "That gives me a better perspective of the situation. I do, however, know you. I firmly believe you're walking into the same trap as you did five years ago. When you want to come back, it'll be something else. She'll fall down the stairs or get mugged or wreck her car. You're both adults for fuck's sake. Don't forget that. She's acting like a spoiled teenager and you're acting like her over-indulgent mother."
"I hoped you would support me on this, David."
"I'm supporting you the only way I know how," I said. "I'm letting you make your own decisions. I don't think you can say the same about the other party involved. If you want unconditional support, I think you know me better than that. I support your right to make whatever decision you want. But I don't have to like the decisions you make. If you want me to keep quiet when I think you're making an error in judgment, I guess you shouldn't ask my opinion."
The phone was silent before I heard an outrush of air from Julie's end.
"I'm at the hospital," she said. "I'll call you later."
Again, the lack of specifics proved troublesome.
My interpretation of "later" was later in the day. Certainly not past the next day. Julie's was somewhat different.
I was surprised when she didn't call me that evening. I was perturbed when she didn't call the next day. By the third day, I was boxing up her belongings to send back to her condo — which she hadn't sold despite two solid offers. I was in the middle of resealing some of her boxes a day later when my phone rang. The ID said it was Julie.
"Well, it certainly is later," I said in lieu of a greeting.
"Don't start," she said. "There's enough shit going on that I don't need it from you, too."
"I wasn't starting," I said. "In fact, I was just finishing."
There was silence on the other end of the line but she didn't rise to the bait.
"I want you to come down here," she said finally.
"What good would that do?"
"I just want you near me. I can't handle this alone. They put her in a psych ward for four days."
"Well, duh."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Julie asked. "You're starting to piss me off. You know that."
"Well, welcome to the club," I shot back. "I went passed pissed off yesterday when you didn't call. Ninety-six hour commit, it's called. It's state law. After a suicide attempt, they lock you in the loony bin for four days. Did they petition for an involuntary commitment?"
"No."
"Here's the deal," I said. "If you're serious and likely to do it again, they use the four days to petition the court for an involuntary commitment so they can keep you. If they think it's a cry for help — or an attempt to manipulate someone — they toss you in the rubber room for four days to teach you a lesson."
"Oh."
"I haven't even gotten the chance to talk to her yet," Julie continued. "I'm not family so they won't let me visit."
"Damn those gay marriage law," I said. "You would think a progressive state like California..."
Julie cut me off.
"I can't believe you're acting this way," she said and I heard the tears coming. "I need support and compassion. I don't need you to be an asshole. What did I do to piss you off so badly?"
I sat stunned.
"This is Julie, right?" I asked. "You left like a thief in the night to go down there. You tell me you'll call me later and it is four days before I hear from you. You've refused to confront this woman and you're playing her silly games with her. You've turned down at least two offers for the condo so you can keep a residence in L.A. I'm sure I've missed a few things but that's a pretty good start to the list.
Vicky
- 22.03.2020
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