Free Layers by Sigal Ehrlich Page A

I’ll never know .
    In the comfort of my room, in front of god, myself, and my immaculate collection of shoes, I declare tonight the swan song of my sordid lifestyle. No more. I am not marching on that path, ever again .
    It takes me quite a while to fall asleep, and then I am haunted by flashbacks of our recent “date” in my dreams.

Chapter 8: Mixed Messages
    I am awakened by an escalating knocking sound that has merged into my dream for the last few seconds, or was it minutes ? Forcing my eyes open, I’m completely disoriented. What’s the time? Those knocks are loud and persistent now. I finally manage to comprehend that there’s someone at the door. “Hold on, one moment, coming,” I call out as I put on my pullover, the one from last night; it has a faint Daniel smell on it, which irritates me in a self-deprecating way.
    I am surprised to find a uniformed DHL delivery guy standing at our doorstep.
    “Delivery for Miss Hayley Grace,” he utters in an official voice.
    “That would be me.” I try to smile over a yawn, though I find it hard having just jumped out of bed after a terrible night’s sleep.
    “Sign here, please.” He hands me his PDA.
    “Here you go,” he says, handing me a relatively large, black, rectangular gift box. “Have a nice day.”
    Taking the package from him I can see that there is an imprint on top. I study the gold engraved letters closely. “Donna Karan,” it reads. I stare at the case, utterly bewildered. What the hell? With curiosity, cautiously, as though it were made out of some exquisite crystal, I place the matte black box on the kitchen counter. As I lift the cover of the box my eyes rest upon a soft black satin cocktail dress nestled in delicate ivory paper. On top of the dress rests a small golden envelope. I open the envelope and my eyes reflexively jump to the signature: DS. Absolutely rattled, thinking about how we parted just a few hours ago, far from having an idea of what to make of it, I read the note.
     
Sweet Hayley,
Would you be my plus one at a Stark Software fundraising event on Friday? It’s for a good cause …
DS
P.S. The red sneakers will have to stay at home.
    I sink onto one of the barstools trying to make sense of the dress, of the invitation, of the man I had sex with last night, or was it today ? I haven’t got the slightest idea what to think of it all. No idea what he wants from me or why, but one thing is certain—he’s a mystery of mixed messages and multiple personalities. Way too much for now. I need coffee first, a double …
    With a need to put the thought of Daniel aside, and the sooner the better, I hide the gift box under my bed and turn to start my morning. I fix myself that much needed quadruple-shot espresso and lock myself in my room to work on my sketching. The Killers playing in the background do great job helping me focus.
    A few hours later I get distracted by a text message.
    Tasha: Got the job, on my way back, Heart ya.
    Oh, now my best friend is going to work for him. This cannot get any better.
    With Tasha’s text in mind I realize I haven’t confirmed the second meeting at YOU and quickly send a thank-you email confirming the date. It’s the same day as the fundraising gala, I think idly.
    My phone vibrates again. This time it’s a call. I pick it up, annoyed by the continued disturbance. What’s now?
    “Hello” I answer.
    “Are we still on for tonight?” My forehead creases.
    “Who is it?” I ask, not sure who I supposedly have plans with tonight.
    “Are you double-booking dates on me, H? That’s cruel.” H? It’s Daniel. An involuntary smile spreads on my lips as the info sinks in. “Do we have plans for tonight?” I honestly don’t recall any plans that we set for this evening. And frankly, after yesterday …
    “Oh, that’s really cruel, I clearly remember that you agreed to watch a movie with me tonight. Didn’t you?”
    “Daniel, you mixed up day and night, yesterday and today. I can’t