38 - Call Me

Petey pulled the key from the open door and let it close behind her before sliding the deadbolt into place.  Putting her backpack down on the floor by the sofa, she carried the package down the hallway to the bedroom.

Jon hadn’t let her leave without – finally – opening the gift he’d teased her with.  His taunt of ‘it made me think of you’ made much more sense after seeing the assortment of body products in her favorite scent.  She’d actually thought it quite sweet that he’d taken the trouble, but she refrained from telling him that.  Instead, she teased him about having a uniform smell for all the women so it didn’t mess with his allergies.

Then he’d kissed her cheek and told her she was the only recipient of the cotton candy scent.

Aww.  How could one man be such a monumental horse’s ass one minute and then the prototype for Prince Charming in the next?

Not knowing how to respond, she’d mumbled something about having to call her mother and darted out the front door.

The way he flustered her, she wasn’t sure she could go through with this whole sexual depravity thing.  Imagining the things he might do to her made her throb in the most personal places, but putting herself out there like that...  Letting him totally dominate her?  In equal parts, Petey was both giddy with anticipation and scared spitless.

Now I wonder what outfit conveys that particular personality split, she thought to herself, standing before the open closet.   While she wanted to see that spark of appreciation in his eyes, Petey also wanted to choose something she felt good about.  What was a good compromise between Petey and a submissive woman?

Although locked in throes of that dilemma, she temporarily set it aside to grab her ringing phone from the bed.  An unfamiliar number was displayed across the screen, and her stomach knotted while she debated on whether or not to answer it.  It wasn't a 412 area code, but it could still be him.

She bit her lip in deliberation.

I’m not going to live in fear of him.  If he wants to talk to me, fine.  It won’t do him any good.

“Hello?” she answered with a clippedtone.

“Tink?”  David Bryan’s voice – or she assumed it was David, since he was the only one who had ever called her Tink – came over the line, sounding taken aback by her bitchy greeting.  Petey forgot that she had given him her number last night.

The knots in her stomach melted away and she continued to leisurely thumb through the offerings in her closet.  “Yes, Pickle?”

His 'harumph' carried loud and clear through the phone line.  “You have to tell me, are we talking Kosher here?  Is this a Jewish joke?  Is that where the Pickle comes from?” he demanded in a random conversational twist.

David made her laugh.  He was almost as likable as Richie, in a less mellow and laid back way.  She would bet he was always hatching something in the back of that curly head of his.  But, then again, what did she know?  She wasn’t exactly the voice of authority on Mr. Bryan.  They'd only spent a couple of hours together in a room full of people.

“No, but that makes it even more appropriate.  Thanks for the insight.”

“You’re going to be Cat Woman to my Batman, aren’t you?” was his disgruntled mutter.  “Or Poison Ivy?  Some random female arch nemesis out to ruin the superhero through whatever means necessary, including, but not limited to seduction.”

Literally snorting in his ear, she choked out, “Is that what you think I’m doing?  Seducing you?  With a phallic nickname?”

“Hey,” he threw out carelessly, and she could visualize him kicked back in an easy chair without a care in the world.  “You have a whole different personality than most people I know.  It isn’t that far out of the realm of possibility.”

“David, even socially retarded misfits like me can come up with better pickup lines!” she chortled.  Petey wasn't that much of a geek.

“Prove it.”

What in the world?  Did he just issue a dare?  Why did he even call to begin with?  He wasn't nearly as cute as he'd been a few minutes ago.

“What?  You’ve lost your mind.  I don’t know that I want to speak with a man as mentally disturbed as yourself.  Are your employers aware of this condition?”

David was totally unfazed by her rant, casually observing, “The mirror’s a scary place, isn’t it Tink?”

What?!?  He truly had lost his mind.  What in the hell was he talking about?

“Okay Riddler, now you’re irritating me.  Did you have something besides that in mind when you called?  If not, your work here is done, and I will resume my regularly scheduled life.”

“The name's Joker, and don’t get your panties in a twist,” he drawled easily, not in the least bit flustered over her flusteredness.  “You’re not mad at me, you’re mad at yourself because you can’t come up with a pickup line.  It seems especially belittling since any knuckle-dragging man with two brain cells and half a beer can do it.  I’m telling you, Tink, we’re more alike than you’ll ever want to believe.  I'm in your head.”

He was in Bizarro World, but this time that wasn't her head.  Fine.  He wanted a stupid pick up line, she'd give it to him.

“Oh Baby," she cooed, "You and me, we could do the Universe a favor by keeping it in balance,” she fired off.  “The light curls on your head next to the dark between my legs would make the perfect Yin and Yang.”

He guffawed.

Really. 

A flat-out belly splitting laugh.  It went on and on and on for so long that it became awkward for her, and she grew embarrassed.  She even contemplated hanging up on him, so she could browbeat herself in peace.  Impulsiveness never got her anywhere she wanted to be.  Whenever Petey tried to be clever, nine times out of ten she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

“David."  Not finding anything in the closet that suited her mood, she left it behind and collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, the springy surface bouncing comfortably under her.  “I have things to do.  Why did you call?”

Wheezing only slightly, he swallowed what remained of his giggles.  “To…  talk to you.  Oh God, woman, you’re priceless.  Will you marry me?”

“I don’t do relationships.  Can we move this along?”

“Fine.  You’re stealing all the drama from this, but fine,”  he sighed dramatically. 

What was it with these people and the dramatics?  Candace, Richie, now David?  She was just trying to make some type of logical connection between the three when he interrupted with, “Go out with me Tink.”

Egad. This…  this… man had reduced her somewhat extensive vocabulary to a single word.  “What?”

“Go out with me,” he repeated slowly.  “Today.  Tonight.  Tomorrow.  Sometime soon.”

In about two seconds she was going to awaken from this outlandish dream.  Because only in a dream world would Richie Sambora and David Bryan want to take her on dates, while Jon Bon Jovi waited in the wings to fulfill her craziest sexual fantasies. 

Feeling foolish, she nonetheless reached down and pinched herself.  Petey could only assume that it was all real since she didn’t wake up.

“Why do you want to go out with me?" she inquired suspiciously.  "You call me Tinkerhell.  That doesn’t exactly tug at one’s heart strings and invoke images of romantic dinners.  Is there an animal you need sacrificed?  Is that it?”

“No, you dark, neurotic woman,” he admonished with the cluck of his tongue.  “What's so hard to believe?  I like you.  I want to talk to you someplace where there aren’t a hundred other people intruding every time we turn around.”

“You’re talking to me now.”  She really didn’t get it.

“Jeez, are you always this difficult?  Did you ever think I’d like to look into those lovely pink eyes of yours while I’m talking to you?  You don’t have to bust my chops, Petey.  It’s a simple yes or no question.”

She wanted to say yes.  David made her use her mind in obscure ways that were different from everyone else.  It was nice to feel her brain stretching a little.  If only there weren’t the slight problem of a booked social calendar for the next week…

Goose bumps danced along her forearms. 

Her depravity dance card was full, and her mind flitted to the man who filled it.

The intensity with which Jon had issued her sleeping orders while touching her so gently…  Dear God, she couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store.  If she were smart, she would spend the afternoon resting or mentally preparing for Night One of Kinkapalooza instead of considering a date.

“Helloooo?  Tink, you still there?”

“Yes.” 

It was barely noon.  The car wasn’t coming until eight.  That was a long afternoon of waiting, wondering and worrying.  Insecurity sucked.  She needed something to keep her occupied or she would be reciting the whole damn encyclopedia to keep from having a nervous breakdown and asking herself a thousand unanswerable questions.

Had  he changed his mind?  Did he think she was even freakier than he first suspected?  Did he regret agreeing to it?  He did know that extreme wasn't what she was looking for, didn't he?

“Will you go out with me, or not?” David interjected into her mental panic attack, and both annoyance and impatience had crept into his tone.

Oh, what the heck?  If nothing else, they'd find ways to diplomatically insult one another.

“When?"

“Any time this week works for me.”

“Um.  Well, I’m tied up…” Tied up!   She felt herself grow warm at the thought, and unzipped her hoodie.  “…every evening until Christmas.  But I’m free until about seven o'clock today,” she offered hesitantly.  Nothing like being asked out and dictating to the guy when he could take you.

He was quiet for a moment, as though thinking.  “I can make that work.  Give me your address.  You’re in the city, right?  I can probably be there in an hour.”

“How about I meet you somewhere instead?  And what are we doing, so I know how to dress?”

“I’d really rather come get you.”

“And I’d really rather you not,” she stubbornly insisted.

Yes, it was petty, but Petey had become obsessive in recent weeks about anyone knowing where she lived.  If no one knew where she lived, then they couldn't inadvertently share that information with the wrong person.  That was the idea, at least.

David huffed in her ear, clearly dissatisfied with the notion.  “I’m guessing if I push this, you’ll cancel on me altogether.  Am I right?”

She laughed softly, kicking her shoes off.  “What was it you said?  The mirror’s a scary place?”

“Alright Tink, you win, but at least tell me which part of the city you’re in.”

She microscopically inspected her pink nail polish for chips, but didn’t see any.  She also didn’t see any harm in giving him a neighborhood.  “The Village.”

“For some reason, I’m not surprised.  You like jazz?”

“Some.  I prefer blues, but jazz can be enjoyable on the odd occasion.”  Neither were particular favorites.  She was more of a soft or classic rock kind of girl.  Alternative music was good, too.

“There’s a little place over on West Third called The Blue Note.  They don’t officially have live music until later in the evening, but on the weekends you can find some rising stars in there during the afternoons.  We can go grab a drink and chat.  What do you say?  Oh, and they have killer wings.  Chicken, not bat.”

Petey’s delighted laugh fell out before she could catch it.  Anything with this guy would be an adventure.

Forty-five minutes later, she topped her tight black pants with the Psycho Bunny shirt, thinking David would appreciate it.  Stepping back, she quickly assessed the shirt, pants, glittery pink Chucks and braids.  Her spider web from this morning was still in place, needing only a light touchup.  The lipstick she didn’t bother replacing, choosing her usual pink lip gloss instead.  A quick squirt of Jon’s body spray and she was ready. 

It should be about time to head over that way.

Petey grabbed the phone from where she’d tossed it on the bed earlier, to find a text message awaiting her.

[1:02 PM] JON: You escaped without telling me something.  I haven’t forgotten.

It was her own fault that he believed she would purposefully leave the Stephanie question unanswered., but they’d been a little busy this morning.  It had just slipped her mind.  Of course, this method of communication made it easier to avoid the extra questions that were sure to follow her revelation.

[1:03] PT: Not intentionally.  The big secret?  I used to be a teacher.

Settle for that, Jon.  I don’t want to argue.

[1:05 PM]JON:  We’ll discuss it tonight.

No, tonight we’re indulging in sexual depravity.  I am not ruining that with tales of my boring life.

[1:06 PM]PT: Nothing to discuss.  That’s it.

[1:06 PM] JON: We’ll see about that.

No, we won’t.  She was busily typing in the contrary response when he veered off onto a totally different topic.

[1:08 PM]JON: Don’t put anything on your skin tonight besides makeup.  No lotion, perfume or even deodorant.  Just you.

That was intriguing.  She was scrambling to make some type of correlation when another text chimed.

[1:09 PM]JON: Don’t think about why.  Just do it.

That was going to make things awkward.  She would be vividly imagining all the possible reasons for that request, all the while sitting across the table from another man.

This has got to be somebody else's life.