Tequila Tuesday

Warning: This story contains an implied sex scene and themes related to abuse.

Tequila Tuesdays                                                                    

By Leanne Levi

He texted way too early. I squinted at the phone:

5:50 am

You’re gorgeous. x

I hadn’t saved his number in my phone and wasn’t planning on it. I didn’t reply and fifteen minutes later a second text vibrated on the bedside table:

6:05 am

Can’t wait to see you at work today. x

I sat up and frowned. He was twice my age. Accounts department, I think. I’d come out of the bathroom the night before and there he was, leaning against the bar. When he saw me, he smiled and waved me over. ‘I think we’re the last ones standing.’ His smile was lopsided. Unusual but not unpleasant. I spotted his glasses in his shirt pocket. He looked quite different without them on. ‘Drink?’ he asked. He towered over me with willowy shoulders. Dark curls, with hints of silver. His eyes were steady on my face, not my bare shoulders or beyond. I ran my fingers through my hair and smiled. ‘Sure,’ I’d said.

Now I sat on the edge of my bed deciding how best to treat my hangover. It was mild: Dry mouth, sore eyes, and headache. Panadol, water, and a shower should do it. There would be more than a few hungover people at work today. Tequila Tuesday was not for the weak. I stood under the flow of hot water, feeling out my aches. The rough brick wall had grazed my lower back and the pale skin of my backside. I cringed, thinking of how I’d had to show him what to do. His intense eyes had not left my face. It was over quickly. ‘Thank you, Sarah,’ he’d said, and kissed my hand as I got into my Uber. He’d insisted I text him to say I’d gotten home safely.

I got to work just on time. I dropped my bag into the bottom drawer of my desk and slid into my chair. Lisa was on a call. She waved at me lazily through the plexiglass between our cubicles. Her eyes were bloodshot. I turned on my computer. Lisa finished her call and wheeled her chair around to me. ‘How’re you feeling? I’m dead. I don’t think I can do Tequila anymore.’ She rubbed her temple, squinting at me. I avoided her eyes. ‘What's up with you? Why’re you looking sketchy? Oh God, what did you do after I left?’ Lisa wheeled her chair close until it butted into mine. She scrutinized me closely. ‘Spill. I want every detail.’

I laughed her off. ‘Nah, sorry dude. Nothing exciting happened. I left just after you.’ I faked a yawn. ‘I’m tired though.’

Lisa looked disappointed. She wheeled her chair back around to her own desk.

 ‘Hey, you want a coffee?’ She looked at me like I’d offered her a kidney. ‘I love you, Sarah. I really love you.’ I smiled at her and headed out the door to the staff canteen. My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I left the texts unopened.

There were a few tired faces milling around the staff canteen. I poured the coffee into two clean mugs. The rich steam wafted from the pot like an aromatic sauna. I tried to think of the client I needed to phone first that morning. Then I felt his breath on my hair. He stood so close that I felt the entire length of his body behind me. He smelled faintly of peppermint and Old Spice. I’d bought that aftershave for my dad every year for his birthday. I held my breath, trying to ward off nausea brought on by that connection. 'Good morning.’ His voice was quiet, throaty in my ear. A cold trickle slithered down my spine.

I glanced up quickly, not making eye contact. ‘Hi.’ I could tell I would have to nip this in the bud.

His neck was bent down towards me. His face close, studying me. ‘Everything okay, Sarah?’ There was an edge to his question. He traced his hand over the bare skin of my arm, his fingers settling around my wrist. I was caught between him and the kitchen bench. I looked quickly around the room. It was just us.

'I’m fine. Hey, Andrew. About last night.’ I found I was trembling. ‘Look I’ve just come out of something…complicated.’ His fingers tightened slightly around my wrist, then let go. I slid sideways, away from him.

‘But last night…we…’ He looked confused, wounded. I thought I heard a change in his breathing in the stillness of the room.

I employed a businesslike voice. ‘Last night wasn’t a good idea. Probably shouldn’t have happened.’ I had to be firm with him. Rip off the band-aid. I looked over at the door and grabbed mine and Lisa’s coffee mugs. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got to get to work.’ I forced a smile, hoping it would soften the blow. His face was red, his eyes unblinking behind his thick glasses. ‘See you, Andrew.’ I moved quickly toward the exit.

When I got back to my desk, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. There were two unread messages, from him:

9:15 am

I feel like the luckiest man on earth.

9:20 am

Let me take you out to dinner, tonight.

I frowned at the words. Geez. Should I reply? I decided I’d said what needed to be said in the canteen. The next text didn’t come until after lunch.

13:20 pm

I can’t stop thinking about you. About last night. Remember what I told you?

I remembered his hands fumbling. I’d hitched up my dress. ‘Lift me up,’ I’d whispered into his ear. It was dark down the laneway behind the Tequila bar. A faint sour smell of garbage in the air.

The texts kept coming through the night: 19:56, 20:30, 12:40.

The final one at 1:00 am said: You’re being a bitch.

After that, I couldn’t get back to sleep. At 2:00 am I sat on the kitchen bench drinking a glass of water. I rubbed my eyes. I frowned as I thought of what he’d said as I headed to my Uber after the Tequila bar. After he’d kissed my hand. He’d pulled me to him and whispered, ‘You’re mine now.’ His voice was like granite. He said it like an oath. I’d thought it weirdly romantic until I’d sobered up.

It was 2:40 am and I was falling asleep when Lainie flew off the bed. The studio flat was stuffy and dark but for a stream of pale light from the outside lamp. Shadows shifted and Lainie bared her teeth at the front door. A deep and steady growl rumbled from her belly. I got up and walked over to the door, putting my ear to it. All I could hear was my heart palpitating in my ears. I left the chain on and cracked open the door to look out. There was nobody there. You're losing it, Sarah.

I called in sick to work. In the shower, I scrubbed my skin until it was bright pink. I turned on only the hot water until the heat was almost unbearable. I put on a fresh white shirt and dark blue jeans and took Lainie for a walk. A silver Golf passed by us slowly at the corner near my building. Its windows were darkened. My stomach turned to concrete. I picked up Lainie and held her to me, watching the car hesitate, then drive off and turn at the traffic lights. I walked quickly down the stairs to my flat and locked the door behind me. I stood with my back pressed to the door until my breathing was normal. I took out my phone and pulled up the number for the local police. But there’d been that misunderstanding with my ex after we broke up and my cheeks burned thinking about the look on the officer’s face when I’d dropped those charges. I put the phone away. There had been no texts all day. He'd moved on. And I had truly learned my lesson.

But a few hours later a text did arrive:

13:10 pm

Why didn’t you come to work today?

We need to talk, Sarah.

Stop ignoring me.

I replied immediately: Leave me alone. 

The next morning, I drove into the car park at work, scanning the bays for a silver Golf with dark windows. It wasn’t there. I muddled through my work. My skin crawled walking down the dark passage to the toilets. I rushed back to my desk, looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't there. I smelt peppermint toothpaste and Old Spice everywhere I went. It stuck in my throat, choking me. I came back from a client meeting to find a box of chocolates waiting on my desk. The red bow tied around it shone under the fluorescent lights. The room shifted. I swung around to check for him. Only the other consultants were there, working away in their cubicles. I stuffed the chocolates into the bin and wiped my eyes.

The mid-summer afternoon sun glinted off the cars in the car park. Lisa waved at me as she drove off, music blaring from her car stereo. I stopped dead at the driver's side of my car and put my hand over my mouth. Gouged out of the red paint across both doors in large, thick scrawl:

Slut

The concrete car park tilted under my feet. My heart thudded in my chest as I backed away. My body shook and I felt him standing right behind me, breathing into my hair. But when I turned quickly, arms hitting out, there was nobody there. My eyes darted between the emptying car park and my ruined door, unable to focus through streams of tears. As I moved to open the car door the squeal of wheels spinning on concrete came from the far corner of the car park. My head shot up. A silver Golf with darkened windows screeched towards me and my concrete legs. My car keys fell to the ground.