Marry Me G. Hauser (the chimp paradox .TXT) 📖

co-owner of a crazy boot

camp/posh training club that no one in their right mind would

join.

“Say hi to your big guy for me.” Braxton started heading

back to the men’s locker.

“You got it. Have fun tonight.”

Braxton waved at Kellie without looking back and now not

only was he tired and needed a nap, he was uneasy at how the

evening would progress.

After washing the oil off his skin, Braxton actually felt a little

better, more revived. He dressed in his slacks and cotton shirt

and packed everything else into a gym bag. He slung it over his

shoulder and headed out, glancing at the juice bar, craving good

food, but needing to get home and get ready for the big night

ahead.

On his walk to his car in the parking lot, he turned on his

phone and it beeped and vibrated non-stop with messages and

missed calls. He looked up at the blue sky helplessly and tried to

focus. One thing at a time. He tossed his gym bag onto the

passenger’s side, stuck his Bluetooth into his ear and started the

car.

“Hey,” he began his call backs. “What’s up?”

“My dress isn’t here yet! Braxton! The red carpet premiere is

in two hours!”

“Okay. Calm down. Let me find out where it is. Okay?”

“Call me back right away!”

Braxton disconnected the call and as he drove out of the

parking lot he told his mobile computer to dial the dress

designer.

“Braxton!”

“Hey, babe. Julie wants to know where her dress is. She’s

having a freak out.” He pulled onto the main street and was glad

it was Saturday. A break in the mad weekday rush hour traffic.

“It’s on its way.”

“Thank you.”

“Have fun tonight, dahhling!”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” He disconnected the call, shook his

head at the folly, and redialed his frantic star.

~

Wearing just a pair of black gym shorts, Fabian went for a

long run along the beach. There were brave surfers wearing

wetsuits, out on the waves and a few families with children

playing on the beach, even though it was not warm enough to

swim, and very windy.

He liked jogging on the sand, since it was tougher than the

treadmill and street, but it exhausted him quickly. Fabian made

his way back to his car after running for an hour, and stood still

near where he’d parked, looking back at the beautiful white sand

and clear sky. Why was he thinking about going to that auction?

Two grand? Two grand to sit and eat dinner, alone?

He wondered which of his friends had enough disposable

income to join him. He could say he wanted to support the

charity, or even make a joke about wanting to see Braxton get

auctioned off. But that would make too big a dent in his bank

account.

Hands on his hips, still catching his breath, the wind drying

his perspiration quickly, Fabian took his key out of the tiny

pocket inside the shorts waistband and unlocked his car. He sat

down on the seat and removed his phone out of the glove box to

turn on. He noticed a text from his friend Naomi. He

immediately dialed her number and slouched low in the seat, still

recuperating from his run. He turned on the car and opened all

the windows to help him cool down.

“Fabian!”

“Hello, doll.” He smiled. “What are you up to?”

“Errands. You know how weekends go. It’s a game of catch

up for everything I can’t get done during the week.”

Naomi Gamble, one of the women he used to work with at his

old office before they went under. They had stayed in touch ever

since, and often connected for dinner and movies.

“I do. I’m bored out of my mind. You free for dinner?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“A two grand a plate charity event?”

Silence hit the other end of the line, then she laughed loudly.

“A what? Oh, sure. I’ll just put that on my credit card.”

“I know. I’m joking. I can’t afford it either.” He watched the

pedestrian traffic walking along the pavement next to the sandy

beach.

“Sorry, Fabian. I just can’t afford that.”

“I know. You want to grab a pizza or something?”

Hearing her laughter made Fabian feel better.

“Now, that I can afford!”

“Great. Pick the time and place.” He sat up and began to

imagine a nice evening.

“Seven o’clock, that little Italian place in WeHo?”

“Got it. Can’t wait to see you.”

“You too!”

Fabian smiled, disconnected the call and headed home.

~

Braxton stood in front of his full length mirror in a tuxedo.

He fussed with the bowtie and collar, feeling impatient and

wishing tonight was over.

His phone kept buzzing with calls and text messages and he

was about to scream in frustration at never having a break.

Yes, Brianna offered to help, but she was a young mother

with a husband and he couldn’t ask her to work over the

weekends, all the time. She had before, but Braxton knew it

wasn’t right. And she did work, they both did, answering emails

so Monday wasn’t a horrific mess.

Stopping fussing with the tie, Braxton checked himself out,

front and back, and gave up preening. He sipped a shot of tequila

he had poured for himself to calm his nerves and then tossed the

remainder down his throat. It made him cough. He wiped his lip,

put the glass in the sink and pocketed his phone, wallet, and

keys, then looked around the room as if he were an imbecile and

had no idea what he was doing.

“Fuck!” he shouted, clenched his fists and stood still, eyes

closed.

Calm down.

He inhaled deeply and tried to slow the hell down. He was

going out of his mind.

Inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, he

gave himself a two second mediation break, because in reality it

was all the time he had, then he heard his phone hum. Trying not

to scream from the overload, he read the text. Scott was waiting

at the entrance of his condo to give him a ride to the event.

Shutting lights, making sure he had everything he needed,

Braxton left the condo and walked to the elevator. He kept

touching his long hair and tie, nervous for the auction. What he

wouldn’t give to have someone by his side. A man to help him

deal with all the stress. Even if it was someone to hold him and

tell him to hang in there. Anything.

He rode the elevator down to the lobby and