End Flashback

Your wife asks you to read the most important contract she’s ever had the chance to sign and you…
Well, you use the above mentioned contract to smash a fly.
This doesn’t sound exactly tactful, does it?
Well, Shane, Shane, Shane.
You are not reading the small signs.
And this is not good.
Because you know Carmen, right?
And you know how hot-blooded she is.
You also know that she is an understanding, sweet, loving woman, but you’re forgetting about the other side of the coin.
Because Carmen is a bomb.
Which can mean a lot of different things.
Not necessarily to good effect.
Anyway, sorry to interrupt.
Shall we carry on with our flashback?

Flashback – Carmen

Right then, the phone rings.
Shane grabs the receiver immediately, and I purse my lips not to crash it on the floor.
Fuck that.
“Mrs. Porter, hi!”, Shane is saying excitedly, “How are you? …No! No, no, it’s not too late…. Could you hang on just one second while I use the other phone? …Thank you…”.
She hands me the receiver and runs towards her studio at the speed of light.
I remain motionless, the receiver suspended mid-air, in my hand, until I can hear Shane’s voice from the other room.
At that point, I hang up sighing.
“Yes, ma’am. I am looking forward to that, too”, Shane is saying.
“No, no, no. Course you’re not bothering me…”. She laughs huskily. A phoney laugh.
“Artists… we never sleep”.
I roll my eyes at the world “artists”, grabbing a mixing bowl from the counter.
“…I am available to you, ma’am…”.
I switch on the food processor because I can’t stand her anymore.
And then, I switch on all the other appliances, feeling my blood boil.
The noise in the room feels strangely relieving.
Five minutes later, Shane walks through the door, jaw clenched.
She rapidly turns off all the switches on her way.
Then, she stops in the middle of the kitchen, resting her hands of her hips.
“Who left the appliances on?”. She narrows her eyes, looking at me.
“It sounds like who knows what!”.
I shrug, nonchalantly, my arms folded.
“I must have hit some switches when I was cleaning up. You know how that can happen”.
Shane relaxes a little.
After all, she’s too excited about her new client to be really interested in arguing with me, now.
“I got great news”, she grins.
“Lunch is on tomorrow with Bette Porter. I’m gonna meet her at a club in downtown”.
She smacks her fist into her palm.
“She’s mine!”, she growls, victoriously.
I stare at her, blankly.
“Look how crazy you are about yourself, right now”, I consider.
Shane clears her throat and her smile disappears.
“I’m sorry”.
I wave my hand in the air.
“Don’t apologize”.
She chuckles, looking a bit uncomfortable behind her confident allure.
“I live with the assumption that all people owe an apology to the woman they live with”.
I shake my head, turning around and showing her my back.
“You’re so full of shit…”.
Shane takes a look around the room.
“So, where’s that little contract of yours? Maybe I can up your price, huh?”.
I don’t reply.
“Where is it?”, she repeats.
Nothing by my part.
Suddenly, I can feel her hands gently brushing my hips.
“Hey… you sure it’s all right?”, she murmurs into my ear, kissing my neck.
I don’t look up.
“My fee is going up”, she adds, proudly, “Better get me while you can afford me”.
Finally, I turn around and stare coldly at her.
“I don’t want you to read it”, I state.
I take the contract from the kitchen counter and hide it behind my back.
Shane smiles.
“Come on, let me have it”.
I step aside, just to move away from her, but she grabs my waist, holding me back.
Her fingers are blindly trying to capture the contract.
“I got you and I’m not gonna let you go away!”, she exclaims, jokingly.
But I am not in the mood for jokes.
Definitely not.
“Let me go”, I say, in a flat tone.
“Let go of it! Let go!”, Shane laughs.
“Let me go!”, I yell, finally, slapping her in the back of her head with the contract.
Shane freezes.
She pulls away and ducks her head.
She isn’t laughing anymore, but she has this wicked half-smile plastered on her face.
“You think you’re pretty strong, don’t you?”, she murmurs.
I don’t reply.
I just look down at the floor, holding the papers against my chest.
Shane winces.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”.