Richard and Lainey - Her perspective

Lainey frowns. "You don't see him the way I do. He's not like that. Not when we're alone."

"I find that hard to believe, because the two times I've interacted with him he was a complete asshole. Rude."

Lainey shrugs. "Can I tell you something, Miranda?"

Her friend takes her hand in encouragement, smiles. "I--I think I'm falling in love with him," she admits, rushing on when Miranda drops her hand with a grimace. "I know, I know, it's too soon, I don't know him that well, but the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. The other night he told me his mother had died when he was two and his father was a drunk. I'd been complaining about Mom but at least I have a mother, right? I felt kind of bad."

"You can't help the way you feel, Lainey."

"That's what he said! So what about you? How was it with Chris?" She gives Miranda a sly, knowing smile and her friend blushes a little.

"Wonderful," Miranda allows, smiling. "He's so different from--from Michael." There's a love bite on her neck and it makes Lainey grin because she knows her friend hasn't seen it yet and she'll be horrified.

"Good. You deserve better than that stupid ass." She grips her friend's arm and smiles at her. "Well, I guess I should get home and shower. Thank God it's Sunday and I don't have to go into the office."

******************************

"This is going to be fun," Lainey gushes as she and Miranda put the finishing touches on their outfits for the night. She adds another layer of mascara, liking the way it frames her blue eyes. Lipstick and a spritz of perfume and she's ready. They are at Lainey's small apartment, Miranda having come over right after work. She's in the shimmery purple dress she found at Macy's, while Lainey chose a black velvet minidress and silver heels.

"Let's go blow their minds," she says with a last look in the mirror.

The bar is crowded when they get there, noisy with laughter and music. Miranda takes Lainey's hand and they thread their way through the tables. Lainey flips her long blonde hair back over her shoulders, lets go of her friend's hand when she spots Richard.

Rising from his chair, he goes to meet her, hands sliding around her waist. "Hello, beautiful," he says in her ear, sliding his hands down to her butt. She kisses him as heat flares and sits beside him, her hand on his leg. Across from them Chris and Miranda sit as well, the table littered with beer bottles.

"Looks like you guys started the party before us," Lainey comments, and Chris laughs.

"Nah, we've just been waiting for you. Time for margaritas," he hoots, staring at her. "How about it, Lainey? You up for a party? They make really good drinks here." There's a not so nice smirk on his smooth face. She can feel his eyes crawling all over her, rude and intrusive.

"Not tonight." is all she says, feeling Richard squeeze her fingers. For all of Miranda's talk about Richard's rudeness, she seems not to care that Chris isn't exactly being polite.

"Are you sure, Lainey? You sure liked them the other night." He snickers, and so does Miranda, her eyes crinkling in amusement. She smacks Chris's arm but she's still laughing, her mouth wide open, showing her white teeth. She leans into him, their hands together on the table, cozy and united.

Richard strokes her leg beneath the table, finishes his beer. Lainey shifts uncomfortably, not liking the mocking vibe. And Chris just keeps going, much to her annoyance. Obviously the man can't read the room, but shouldn't Miranda be able to tell he's upsetting Lainey?

"What do you say, Richard? Should we order a pitcher of margaritas?" Chris's brown eyes sparkle as he swigs from his beer. Miranda smacks his arm again, laughing, oblivious.

"Give it a rest," Richard says, and Chris subsides, that smirk still on his face. It makes her feel small and she forces the feeling down, looking around the crowded bar.

"Oh, Lainey," Miranda says over the noise. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you. I moved in with Chris yesterday." She beams, so happy and there's the expectation that Lainey will be happy as well. But she's not; all she can think about is how upset Miranda had been when he forced a kiss on her. Yeah, Michael was an ass, but is Chris any better? And so quickly--she hadn't mentioned a thing to Lainey.

"Wow," she says, struggling for something positive to say. It seemed so out of character for Miranda. Had she wanted to get away from Michael that bad? "I mean, good for you, I guess." Beside her Richard chuckles under his breath, pats her leg.

"Not the reaction I was hoping for, but okay," Miranda says, visibly taken aback. She turns toward Chris, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It just seems so fast," Lainey says hurriedly. "I'm just a little concerned. You don't really know him."

"Hello, right here," Chris snaps, glaring at Lainey and then Richard. Lainey ignores him; he's not the important one right now. Richard laughs out loud now, as if this is the funniest thing he's ever heard and Chris's face darkens. He stands, pulling Miranda up with him. "You know what, we're leaving. This is some bullshit."

"MIranda, wait. Don't go. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings and maybe this isn't the best place for this conversation." Lainey rises, intending to go to her friend, but Chris blocks her, his mouth turned down. He looms over her, the friendly puppydog persona he normally exudes gone.

"I know you can't shut your legs, but at least shut your fucking mouth, you stupid whore."

The words slam, driving her back down into the chair, stunned. Richard leaps up and confronts his friend.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you say that to her?"

Chris only shrugs, rakes his fingers through his hair. "Richard--"

"Say something like that to her again and I'll pound your fucking face in." The two men lock eyes before Chris nods and steps away. But he doesn't look at Lainey or speak to her. It's as if she doesn't exist. Or that she's not worth acknowledging.

Lainey hangs her head, eyes stinging. Miranda touches her shoulder. "Lainey, I'm so sorry." Then she's gone and Richard is there, sliding his arm around her waist and guiding her out to his car.

She manages to hold back the tears until they reach the car and then she dissolves into hurt tears, crying into Richard's shirt. She isn't sure why Chris's words bother her so much; maybe it was the way Miranda snickered when he was making his mean jokes.

Later that night, Lainey rests her head on Richard's chest, their legs entwined beneath the sheet. It's late, they both have to be up early in the morning, but sleep is far away.

"Do you think I'm a whore, Richard?" HIs arm pulls her closer and he kisses the top of her head.

"You shouldn't take what Chris said to heart, Lainey. He can be a real asshole sometimes. He was drunk."

"I know," she says with a big sigh. "I just..." She shifts so she can see his face, the blue eyes that look steadily back at her. This is one of the things she likes about him: he takes her concerns seriously. "People have always called me that, and worse. I hate that those words can make me feel small again."

He smooths her hair back from her face. "I'm sorry. I know how that feels, even years later, hearing those words again. They called me Trailer Trash Richie," he says slowly, as if he's forcing the words out. Lainey lays her head back down on his chest, traces a pattern on his skin with a fingernail.

"I hated it, but I suppose it fit, because that's where I lived: in a shitty trailer with a drunk father who didn't give two shits about me." He moves so he's looking down at her. "You listen to me, Lainey: It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about you or our relationship because I think you're wonderful." He kisses her, his lips soft.

"I knew you'd understand," she whispers, and the words slip out, although she hadn't intended on saying them. "I love you."

In answer he slides his hands up and down her body, kissing her until she's trembling in his arms, arching against him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"You're beautiful," he says in her ear as they move together. "Sexy. Smart."

She's looking into his blue eyes, loving him so much and she says the words again. "I love you, Richard." Abruptly his face changes and he begins to withdraw, pulling away and leaving her cold in the bed.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, lying back on the pillow. Lainey touches his thigh, confused. What was wrong? She slides her hand up and that does the trick. But it's not like it was.

Lainey scoots up next to him hesitantly, and when he doesn't move away takes it as a good sign. "You don't have to say it," she says, guessing at his distress. "I know you care for me. The way you stood up to Chris showed me that."

Richard says nothing, his expression hidden in the dark bedroom. She touches his hand and he grabs her fingers tight, brings her hand up and kisses it. "Never lie to me, Lainey, and I swear I will always tell you the truth."

Her heart swelling with happiness, Lainey promises. "No secrets, no lies."

It is a promise that will be strained in only a few days.

************************

In the morning Richard is quiet when they sit together at her little table, Lainey with a glass of juice, him with a mug of coffee.

"No breakfast today?" Lainey asks, and he shrugs.

"Not hungry, I guess." He takes his half-empty mug over to the sink and goes to finish getting ready for work. Lainey bites her lip, then looks down at her buzzing cell phone.

Still on for coffee this morning?

She texts Miranda back and quickly cleans up the kitchen and starts the dishwasher just as Richard comes back into the kitchen. Face remote, he kisses her cheek, says he'll see her tonight, he's not sure when. He smells of toothpaste and the herbal balm he applies to his face after shaving.

"I'm meeting Chris after work," he tells her and grabs his keys and leaves.

"Bye," Lainey says as the door closes behind him.

She gets to the coffeeshop first and orders, carries her items to a table over by the window, Richard's remote behavior on her mind. Maybe she shouldn't have said she loved him, maybe it was too soon? The words had just sort of popped out. But they'd obviously affected him.

Miranda bustles over, dressed for her job at Phones First in dark slacks and a white top, carrying a pastry and coffee drink. "How are you?" she asks, arranging the napkin in her lap. Her dark hair cascades past her shoulders and the little makeup she wears enhances her brown eyes and full lips. Lainey can't blame Richard for looking at her, she guesses. He probably thinks he's being discreet, and to be fair, it's only a glance or two, nothing serious. Could he believe Lainey hasn't noticed?

"I'm okay," she says, and her friend purses her lips and sips her coffee.

"You don't sound like it," Miranda observes. "Prince Charming giving you problems?"

The question drips with disinterest; Miranda's made it no secret she doesn't like Richard, so Lainey shouldn't be surprised. Still, it's hard to hear when she really needs someone to talk about him with.

"No, everything is fine. How about you and Chris?" She injects interest into her voice because unlike Miranda, Lainey can pretend to care. She also is curious to see if Miranda will bring up what happened last night.

Miranda fiddles with her cup. "It's going okay...we've had a few rough spots. Chris...well, we're still getting to know each other. He's pretty great, though." She gives Lainey a large, fake smile. "I've no real complaints."

"Oh. So him talking so rudely to me is just him being 'pretty great'? Hmm. I see."

Lainey hadn't meant to bring it up, but listening to Miranda try to make her believe Chris was 'wonderful' rubbed her the wrong way. Would a 'wonderful' man talk trash to his lover's best friend?

"I'm sorry he said that. We talked about it a little. He said he'd apologize if I wanted him to. I told him it was okay, he didn't need to."

"Excuse me?" Incredulous, Lainey stares. "You told him it was okay? He says something mean to me, your best friend, and it's okay? What is wrong with you?" Her eyes sting and she blinks until it stops.

"That came out wrong, I'm sorry," Miranda assures her swiftly. "You know I didn't mean it that way."

"No, I don't know that." Lainey firms her voice, unwilling to let this slide. She's done that too many times. "Chris thinks I'm a whore and I guess you do, too, since you laughed."

"Oh, my God, he was just kidding, Lainey. Lighten up."

"Lighten up? If Richard said something like that to you, you'd hit the ceiling."

"I said I was sorry." Miranda's voice sharpens. "God."

"Well, maybe that's not good enough," Lainey says, her stomach beginning to hurt. "You're not the one who should apologize."

"Well, I can't force him to do that." Miranda shrugs, as if it isn't a big deal, as if this entire hurtful conversation isn't affecting her. As if it means nothing.

"Okay. I guess it's good to see where I stand with you." Lainey lifts her cup, then sets it back down without drinking; her lip is trembling too much.

"Oh, my god, Lainey. I said I was sorry. Don't overreact."

The two women sit in silence for a moment. Then Miranda speaks again. "I did try to call you on the way home," she says, taking a bite of her pastry. "But Richard wouldn't let me talk to you. He said you didn't want to talk to me." She tosses the words offhandedly, a second thought.

"I didn't want to talk to anyone," Lainey tells her, and the other woman scoffs.

"Right. He probably didn't even tell you I called, did he?"

"No, but I was upset. You could have just texted and I would have seen it."

Miranda sips her coffee. "I thought about it, but Richard would have just deleted it so I didn't."

Lainey blinks at her. "Excuse me? What the fuck are you talking about? Richard wouldn't do that." She sits up straighter in her chair, heart pounding. "This has got to be the stupidest thing you've ever said."

"Uh, huh," Miranda says, rolling her eyes again. "Remember Eric? Have you forgotten the way he would take your phone and delete messages and then gaslight you?"

"Richard is not Eric," Lainey grips the edge of the table. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You just can't see it, and why would you? I mean, how many boyfriends does this make for you? Ten? Fifteen? All of them seemed wonderful at first, just like Prince Charming." The condescending tone of her voice grates. "How long will it take for you to see the truth this time?"

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Lainey begins gathering her trash, her hands shaking. Where was this coming from? Who was this woman? Not the friend she thought she knew. Her voice is low and even, although she wants to scream in outrage at this bitch. "You've got some crazy idea that Richard is--is just using me. He's not like that. He's not like--like Eric." God, how she hates the way his name feels in her mouth, the rotten memories that rise to the surface like dirty bubbles in a mud puddle. "He loves me." As she says it, she remembers how far away he was this morning and she shrinks inside a little. He does love her, doesn't he?

"Oh? Has he said those words to you, Lainey?" The venom in her voice cuts. "I know he hasn't. Because he's just another asshole you believe you're in love with. He came into the shop with Chris the other day and he was a total pig, staring down my top and saying inappropriate things." Her lips curl in derision as she continues to describe her interactions. "I was still with Michael when he came to our house with Chris and was a real asshole, staring at me and saying rude things. And then at the party, when he was crawling all over your drunken ass--God! Who does that? It was like a porn film come to life." She shakes her head. "And you sit there and try to tell me he loves you. Ha! I know he hasn't said it and he never will. Get a clue, Lainey. Men don't treat the women they love like that."

Lainey freezes beneath the assault, napkins clutched in her hand. "You...you said you didn't see anything, that you and Chris went upstairs."

"I lied! We saw everything you did!" Miranda's face twists in disgust. "If you don't want to be called a whore, Lainey, then don't act like one!"

For an instant Lainey crumples, then her spine stiffens and she throws the dirty napkins in Miranda's face. "Fuck you, you sanctimonious bitch." Then grabs her purse and leaves, barely able to see through the rage.

********************

Lainey paces back and forth between the couch and the door to the bedroom, waiting for Richard to come home. At least, she hopes he's coming here to her place and not his, and before this morning she would've been confident he was. But now...she isn't sure. There are questions she wants to ask him, questions that have the potential to change their relationship, maybe even end it. She thinks back to the conversation with Miranda and her eyes sting. No. She's spent too much time already crying about that. It's a betrayal of the worst kind, a slap in the face, a brick in the face more like it. There's nothing like finding out your best friend thinks you're a slut.

She hates that all of her insecurities are brimming to the surface, interfering with her ability to think clearly and concisely.

A key rattles in the lock and she breathes a sigh of relief as Richard steps inside.

"Come here, baby," he says, opening his arms and then she's tight against him, he's holding her, saying he's sorry for this morning. "I just...it was a lot to take in."

"It's okay, I understand, Richard," she says into his shirt, her voice muffled. "Just...just don't shut me out, okay. Talk to me." Now her eyes flood again, in relief as much as anything else, and she still has to ask the questions she doesn't want to.

"Lainey, what's wrong? Did I upset you that much? Shit, I'm so sorry." He guides her to the sofa and they sit.

"No, it's not you," she says, wiping her eyes. "Miranda and I had a fight this morning."

He says nothing, waits for her to continue. There's mild curiosity on his handsome face and she wonders if he even cares. He must know Miranda can't stand him. Does it bother him the way knowing Chris dislikes her bothers her?

"At Miranda's house that night...did you know they were watching?" To his credit Richard doesn't break eye contact with her and she takes that as a good sign, no matter that Miranda thinks him a lying fake.

"Is that what you two argued about?" He leans back on the couch, stretches out his legs, obviously tired. His breath smells of alcohol when he yawns. She wants to curl up next to him like always, wants to feel his fingers combing through her hair. Instead, she hugs herself in a vain attempt at comfort.

"Yes. She said--she said if I didn't want to be called a whore then I shouldn't act like one."

Richard jerks upright. "What the fuck? That fucking bitch." He reaches for her but she shakes her head and he drops his hand.

"They saw everything we did in the chair," she goes on, her voice sharp. He flinches a little at her tone. "Richard, you said no one would see, it was too dark. But you were wrong. That's why Chris called me a whore."

"It doesn't matter what he thinks of you, Lainey," Richard says soothingly but she is in no mood for soothing and waves his words away impatiently.

"Did you guys plan that? I heard you on the phone with Chris before we went over." Lainey stares hard at him, willing him to tell the truth even though she's pretty sure she doesn't want to know.

He shifts on the cushions, clearly uncomfortable. "Don't lie to me, Richard," she warns, crossing her arms. Oh God, she wants to take the question back. A guilty expression flits across his face and her heart sinks. It's another minute before he answers.