CHAPTER 3: REMEMBER WHEN YOU MARRY FOR MONEY, YOU’RE GOING TO EARN IT

MICHAEL

“Michael, you need to take care of the end caps on aisle nine before the next rush of customers come in,” Andrew tells me as I’m restocking shelves… or was pretending to anyway. 

God, I really need some fucking uninterrupted sleep. Tracy’s demands, both here at work and at night in bed have been exhausting me. You would think the fact that I’m married to her would buy me a little ease. But no! Instead, I’m still answering to the jackass behind me, while catering to her every sexual whim at home. 

“Look, I’m going, okay. Just let me finish up what I’m doing here.”

“Considering you’ve been in the same spot for the last ten minutes, I would have thought you’d have finished by now,” Andrew says, and I just want to punch him. He’s been a complete ass since I got back. But give a douche nozzle a little power… “You have five minutes to get this done, Michael, and then I want you over on aisle nine. Or would you like me to report you to James, who will then tell Marley, who will be all too happy to inform your wife you’re using her position as owner to slack on the job?”

I was just about to tell him where he could take his threats when I saw my wife’s spy standing behind Andrew, pretending not to listen to the threats being aimed at me. It seems like ever since I got back, all the people I used to consider friends, of a sort, have turned their backs on me. Part of the reason I took Tracy up on her offer was to have a little break from the constant headaches Brian’s defection has been causing me. Between the arguments with Ma, then Ted, Emmett, and Uncle Vic acting as if I don’t exist, it all got to be too much. I mean, sure, I get that they were mad at what Lindsay and I did to that blond boy ass, but shouldn’t they all be over it by now? 

Instead, they have gone about their lives, while I’ve basically sold my soul to a devil in angel’s clothing when I married Tracy. I swear, if I’d known I would be going through this much bullshit, I would have asked for a lot more money at the end of all this. As it is, making $12.75 an hour just isn’t cutting it. She and I are going to have to have a talk when I get home, before we do anything else. I deserve a raise for having to put up with this shit.

He’s still standing there, so I utter, “Fine, Andrew. I’ll get to it in a few minutes.”

“See that you do,” he huffs, and then moves on to go micromanage someone else.

Fucking prick!

I stop moving again to stretch my back and shoulders in an effort to loosen the knots beginning to tighten unbearably. The old injury that was the cause of me meeting David has been coming back more and more due to the stress I’m under. Not for the first time, I blame Brian for this situation I’m in, all the while still begging him to come back and fix it for me. He still hasn’t been answering his phone or returning my calls, and I know deep down that it’s Boy Wonder’s doing. Brian has been mad at me in the past, but it’s never taken this long for him to come around. 

“Trouble in paradise, Mike?” Fat Marley- although she’s lost quite a bit of weight- asks me.

“No,” I answer. There’s no way I’m going to tell her what’s really going on between me and Tracy, even if I suspect she knows more about our arrangement than she’s ever let on. One thing about Pittsburgh is that there are almost zero degrees of separation. Everyone knows someone, who ultimately knows your business. So, unlike when I had Ma and my friends to confide in, I’ve learned to be tight-lipped about the things bothering me. “Everything is fine. The long week is just catching up with me.”

She nods. “I understand what you mean. It seems that there’s just one sale after another these days.”

“Yeah, but it’s good for business, right?”

“That’s true, which is ultimately good for you, too.”

“I suppose, but I didn’t marry Tracy for her money,” The lie rolls easily off my tongue, and I’m trying my hardest to look convincing, but I don’t think she’s buying it. 

“Hm-mm. Well whether that’s true or not, it can’t hurt though.”

Now I could agree to disagree with that, since right now my junk feels like it’s been in a meat grinder from taking so much Viagara, while my taint feels like someone put me on a sex swing and punched it like a heavy bag at the gym. Just standing still is painful as fuck, let alone the effort it’s taking me to walk and bend over. This is just one more thing Tracy and I need to talk about. She has to take it easy when she’s on top. I’m built for slow and easy, not rough riding.

David understood that, so why can’t she?

Instead of giving voice to all my thoughts, I ask, “Was there something you needed?”

“No, just noticed that you’re moving a little slowly today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Yeah, right. More so that you wanted to rub it in that you heard Andrew being a jackass, is what I want to say, but I just paste on a slight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just looking forward to tomorrow when I can rest.”

Which isn’t a complete lie. I really do want to rest, but I have to find someplace else to do it. Unfortunately, for the moment, any place I frequented on Liberty Avenue is off limits to me. Because of Daphne and her fucking goon squad, The Diner and Babylon already were, but there was still Woody’s. I considered it a neutral zone after checking that Boy Wonder and his fag hag hadn’t bought into it too. So I went down there after work for happy hour. I didn’t see the harm in it. I didn’t pick anyone up, and honestly, no one had anything to say to me besides asking me for my order. 

So, no harm, right? Well I was wrong, because I don’t know how Tracy knew about the last time I went down there, but she wasn’t pleased. She threatened that every time I visit my old haunts she’s going to take money off my fee. Part of me wanted to tell her just what she could do with her warning. I mean, I’m a grown man, and the way she treats me is as if I’m a child being grounded. But then I remembered what my plans were. Fifty grand would go a long way to putting me on equal footing with that blond boy ass, so that I could really fight for Brian.

Yeah, I haven’t given up hope that someday Brian would see Justin for the conniving little whore he is, and dump him for good. I still don’t understand why he hasn’t yet, although according to Tracy it’s because of Justin’s breeding and money. I didn’t totally buy that bullshit, but she had a point about Justin’s upbringing. I suppose that’s why Lindsay was so valuable to Brian for a time, too. Like it or not, her connections, and now Justin’s, were exactly what Brian needed. 

So my plan has been to reinvent myself and make Brian regret leaving me behind. He probably already does since he’s stuck in the Romper Room his life has become with two kids- one his son and the other his noose. But like it or not, I’m stuck in the same environment that the two people I can’t stand have grown up in. So the least I can do is take advantage of all the opportunities it affords me, beginning with seeing how they act. Although I want Brian to return to being the Stud of Liberty Avenue at some point, I also want his loyalty to me to be reestablished more. So, while I’m being treated as Tracy’s prized bull for the moment, I’m going to gain all the knowledge I can about how these people think and act. That way, when Brian’s ready for a real relationship with me, he won’t have a reason to ever think of Justin fucking Taylor again.

My thoughts are interrupted by a text on my phone.

Tracy: Michael, Marley tells me that you’re preoccupied today and not getting your work done. Please adhere to our agreement so I can stop getting these kinds of reports. Thanks, and I’ll see you when you get home after work.

Fucking Andrew! Fucking Marley! Fucking Brian, but most of all, Fucking Boy Wonder! This is all his fault!