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The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs, Page 3

Dan Dillard


  Chapter 3

  Emily Benson fought with her hair and decided it should be down. Up wasn’t working and she didn’t care, as long as it didn’t look like she was hunting for sex.

  She had only known Aaron for a few months and he seemed sincere. 

  Their first meeting had been as awkward as he was, but once he had warmed up, the conversation was pleasant. He was a funny guy, if a little too organized for her liking. She wouldn't date him, but he was becoming a good friend. Emily had found it a relief when he started dating Kay, another woman in the office. It took some of the pressure off.

  Then he invited her over for pizza. He had stopped by her desk at the office and interrupted her in the middle of typing a proposal. She smiled at the memory.

  “Hey, Emily,” he had said.

  After taking a second to finish the sentence she was typing, she looked up at him and replied, “What’s up?”

  “Yeah, I wanted you to know that I have a weekly get together with my friend Ethan, and this week Kay is coming. We usually just eat and shoot the shit for a couple hours. If you’re not doing anything Thursday, you're welcome to come by.”

  “Really? That’s sweet. Thanks.”

  It had been months since she'd been able to relax with friends. She was glad another woman would be there to cut down on the creep factor, and it must've shown in her face because he called her on it.

  “Not too creepy?” he had said. “I didn’t realize how awkward the invitation was going to sound until it came out of my mouth.”

  His face showed embarrassment.

  Her cheeks flushed as if he’d read her mind.

  “No, no. Not, at all.”

  “I think it’s pizza week this week. Absolutely no obligation, but we’d be glad to have you.”

  “Pizza sounds good, actually. What time?”

  “How about eight?” His eyebrows achieved dizzying heights upon asking the question.

  “Okay,” Emily smiled. “I will definitely be there.”

  She asked for directions and wrote them on her calendar while he dictated.  

  Her recent move had been emotional. Between college graduation, job hunting, house hunting and all that those things entailed, she really needed a break. It would be nice to have friends again, and she was hopeful that she would fit in with the group. 

  She decided to dress jeans casual, light on the makeup and a little cleavage. That should be okay, just in case the mysterious other guy was cute. Staring in the mirror, she adjusted her favorite bra and then examined its contents for roundness and symmetry. At her feet, a small Bichon Frise licked his paw. A tiny, heart-shaped nametag jingled with each pass of its tongue.

  “A girl has to work with what she’s got, and I’ve got fantastic tits. Don’t ya think, Squirt?”

  Squirt took a quick break to acknowledge his name was called and then resumed licking his paw. She only looked at the dog for a second and then glanced back in the mirror, making sure everything looked its best. This was a ritual passed down by her mother, one Emily had mimicked as a child and perfected during her teenage years. It preceded only the final ‘how-does-my-ass-look’ step, one she had added to the routine.

  Emily puckered her lips, checked out how her butt looked, and decided she was done. Then she rolled into the kitchen to find a half-full bottle of vodka in the freezer and poured just a splash before looking around at her new place.

  The furniture was situated, but there were still quite a few boxes to unpack. She would get to those eventually. For now it made her feel good to finally be on her own. Tonight she would enjoy herself. 

  She toasted the boxes silently and then tossed back a little nip for the nerves.

  It didn’t work.

  It wasn’t like her to go to a strange man’s house for dinner. She knew Aaron from work, but had no real allies. The thought of Kay's presence provided some comfort, but still, it was someone she hardly knew. She looked at Squirt again.

  “You're coming with me,” she said. “One can never be too careful.”

  Squirt looked up at her through the shaggy hair that hung in his eyes and wagged a stumpy tail. She scooped him up and doused him with cologne before grabbing some treats from the pantry and hopping in the car.