I Blackmailed Her Brother

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I Blackmailed Her Brother Page 15

by Jessica Frances


  I can’t believe Sasha used to believe I was fluent in French! Right now, it feels impossible to learn. Well, at least, impossible to learn in one afternoon.

  My phone ringing is a welcome distraction and seeing Larissa’s name pop up on the screen brings a smile to my face.

  “Hey!” I answer, minimizing Google and its frustrating translator.

  “Hey, yourself. How is your day going?”

  “Pretty frustrating actually.”

  “Oh no. Are you free for lunch? I’m happy to lend an ear so you can vent. Scarlett is welcome to come if she’s with you.”

  “I’m at work today and so is she. I would love to do lunch, but I’m working on something I fear might take me a few days to figure the hell out.”

  “What are you working on?”

  I consider telling her. I don’t want to share Scarlett’s business with everyone, but Larissa is a friend, and I could use an ear to vent to.

  “Scarlett’s parents have gone missing in France. I’m trying to figure out how to learn French or find someone who can translate when I call the hotels to see if anyone has seen them.”

  “Je parle couramment le François.”

  “Huh?” I dumbly reply.

  “I studied French all through college,” she responds. “I thought it sounded sexy, and I had the hots for the T.A. in my first year, so I got in a lot of extra study time … and other more fun things, if you know what I mean.”

  “I will name my firstborn after you if you do this for me!” I offer excitedly, jumping out of my seat in relief.

  “Wow, talking about kids already! Well, how about I just insist you call me Queen Lis after this.”

  “I’ll call you Master Lis if you do this for me.”

  She chuckles, while I sag back down in my chair.

  “Deal. I’ll be over to your office in twenty. You feed me, and I’ll make whatever calls you need.”

  “I love you!” I declare, earning another laugh before she hangs up.

  It turns out this task only takes forty minutes of Larissa on the phone, instead of the days upon days I feared. And afterward, I am placed on the phone with Isla Booth, who informs me that her and her husband are unharmed and completely shocked that I have gone to the trouble to search for them.

  Apparently, a romantic second honeymoon was just too good to give up. No phones, no technology, and no thinking about how their actions scared the crap out of their daughter.

  After they were mugged and left stranded from their cruise, they decided to throw caution to the wind and have a little fun. With the way she giggles over the phone, something that is completely out of character for the usually stern woman, I assume they have been having a blast while we have all been pulling our hair out.

  I don’t envy them when they get off the plane and have to face the wrath of Scarlett.

  But, on a positive note, they are alive and well, and it appears that Sanchez has stayed away from hurting Wally’s family.

  There is no reason to follow through on hurting them now, and even though I still want to keep an eye on Scarlett until at least he has been sentenced and hopefully found guilty, I know it’s more for selfish reasons rather than a true fear that someone might still be gunning for her.

  With zero chatter from Sanchez’s men that they are after revenge, and no strong evidence that someone has wanted to do harm to Scarlett or her family, it’s a fair assumption to chalk this up to paranoia on Scarlett’s behalf. Even the incident with Scarlett out on the street when she was pushed didn’t lead to anything.

  “All sorted?” Larissa asks, swinging wildly on my desk chair as I hang up from a very relieved Scarlett.

  “Yes. Thank you so much!” I gush, feeling lighter than I have in days.

  “Thank you, what?”

  “Huh?”

  “What is my name now?” she says while waving her hand encouragingly.

  I roll my eyes, worried I might have to actually stick to this forever now. “Thank you, Master Lis.”

  “I think I like Mistress Lis better.”

  “Why does that make me picture you with whips and chains?”

  She gives me a small shrug while her lips curl into a smile. “Because you secretly like to fantasize about me being a hot dominatrix?”

  I shake my head, unsure if I should cut my losses now or keep going.

  “Who is a hot dominatrix?” Sasha asks, poking her head through my open office doorway.

  “Me, apparently,” Larissa answers.

  I almost think to introduce them, but then I remember Sasha was the one to introduce me to Larissa.

  “Hot. I think leather would suit you,” Sasha tells her, completely unbashful.

  I’m not sure much can embarrass Sasha or throw her off, expect maybe when Ava gives details about Zander and their sex life. That’s one way to get Sasha covering her ears and unable to look Zander in the eye for a while.

  “It does suit me,” Larissa admits, giving me a wink before laughing at my shocked expression, no doubt.

  “Feel free to wear it tonight. We’re having a girls’ night at my place. Seven,” Sasha offers.

  I blink blankly at her offer. Earlier, Sasha made it sound more like a double date, not a big get-together.

  “I’m busy tonight, sorry,” Larissa declines.

  “Too bad. This one is hilarious to see drunk.” Sasha laughs at my misfortune.

  I narrow my eyes on her. “You never said tonight was a girls’ night.”

  “It wasn’t until we had reason to celebrate. Scarlett’s parents are okay, so we need to mark the occasion. Besides, you guys need to let loose a little.”

  “We only found out five minutes ago. How do you know if everyone is even free tonight?”

  “I know these things,” she says mysteriously, rubbing her belly as if it might be a crystal ball, before confirming my suspicion that tonight was always going to be a girls’ night, no matter my good news. “Nix said he’ll only come if you all don’t intentionally bring up babies just to get him drunk.” Sasha rolls her eyes.

  Given Sasha is the biggest culprit of this, I think his stipulation was more for her ears.

  “That sounds fair, Sash. These things are getting out of control. I think all our livers could use a break,” I tell her, feeling a little excited to know Scarlett will come with me if she agrees. It will be fun to see her let loose and enjoy herself after the stress of the past couple weeks. This week in particular.

  “I had to promise him there would be no intentional baby talk.” She pouts, looking at Larissa as if she would even have a clue what we are talking about, let alone be sympathetic to Sasha’s apparent plight.

  “Fine, Scarlett and I will be there,” I announce, knowing if she isn’t up for it, I will just bail her out.

  “I already knew you would be there. Declan is going to take the men out so we’ll have the place to ourselves. Prepare to get messy!” Sasha blows Larissa a kiss before exiting my office.

  “She is probably the craziest woman I have ever met.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” I tell her, laughing when she looks concerned. “You sure you can’t come tonight? I know Scarlett would like to see you again,” I offer while wondering if maybe she might feel a bit awkward about the whole Scarlett situation.

  “Raincheck. I have a date tonight!” she tells me, her smile brightening.

  “Really?” I gasp, perking up. “Who with?”

  “I’ll let you know if it comes to anything. I better get back to work. Thanks for lunch.”

  “Thank you for helping me out. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”

  She smiles, giving me a small hug when I walk her to my doorway.

  “Don’t forget to change my name in your phone! And I expect my new moniker to stick!”

  I laugh and shake my head, watching her head down the hallway before stopping to speak to Sasha.

  I go back into my office to pack up my things and send off an email o
f appreciation for all Jerry has done. He definitely has gone above and beyond. I owe him, as do all of us in our own way.

  I wonder if he will ever collect on any of the favors he has built up.

  I shake my head, reaching for my phone. Instead of changing Larissa’s name, I call Scarlett again. I need to warn her about tonight and also stock up on supplies to deal with a hangover tomorrow. Because, no matter what Sasha says, there is no way I won’t wake up tomorrow without a splitting headache and memory loss. I just hope the bits we all remember are fun moments and that we have a stress-free night. I know Scarlett and I can definitely use it.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  Then again, aren’t those usually famous last words?

  Chapter 10

  “This is boring,” Sasha complains, glancing around the civilized room where no one is in danger of falling over, vomiting on themselves, or sprouting out embarrassing stories.

  “What do you care if we’re getting drunk or not? It isn’t like you can drink,” Ava reminds her, still on her first glass of wine.

  “But I can live vicariously through you guys, and this is one of the only times we’ve done this since I got pregnant. I never remember these nights. How am I supposed to get blackmail on you guys if you aren’t drunk enough to admit to or do stupid shit?”

  I wince at her mention of blackmail, but when I glance at Scarlett, she is chuckling rather than recalling when I blackmailed her brother.

  “What do you propose then? We all just guzzle down these drinks just to amuse you?” Ava asks with exasperation.

  “No, but I have an idea. Give me five minutes.” Sasha grabs her cell and busily presses buttons before needing to get up to grab a pen and some paper. She has an evil grin on her lips that does not bode well for us.

  “You know, Sasha has always scared me a little. But I think pregnant Sasha might be the scariest,” Scarlett leans in to whisper to me, not that her voice doesn’t carry to those closest to us.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” I warn.

  “Yeah, drunk Sasha is terrifying,” Teagan pipes up, sipping her wine. She stocked up on enough breastmilk to have a night to let loose.

  “Really? I think Sasha on a mission is scariest,” Ava says.

  “I don’t know. Interrogation Sasha is the worst for me,” Nix argues.

  “Nope, I can beat you all,” I tell them, likely looking smug and confident.

  “Fine, what is it? And don’t forget, I don’t need more nightmares,” Ava whines.

  “Hungry Sasha.”

  There is a collective groan and a few nods.

  I definitely win.

  “What are you guys discussing?” Sasha asks, moving back over with her pen and paper that has been chopped up with writing over them.

  “Just wondering what you’re up to,” I offer, knowing nothing good will happen if Sasha thinks we were making fun of her.

  She smiles, and we each hold our breaths, waiting to hear what form of torture she is about to put us through. When she does finally tell us, none of us were expecting the words coming out of her mouth.

  “We’re playing celebrity heads, though I put a different spin on it. It’s going to be girls versus boy.” Nix begins to protest, likely because that means we are all against him, but Sasha doesn’t let him get much out before speaking over him. “And instead of just celebrities, I’m going to mix it up with anything well-known, including movies and animal names. Got it?”

  She sounds so excited about this that I’m immediately suspicious.

  Sasha once said games like this, Pictionary, and other board games were what she imagined the CIA used to torture their prisoners. She even said she would rather have her teeth pulled out than have to sit through a single one. I’m not sure how they are much different from her playing Bingo or doing quiz night at the nursing home her and Declan volunteer at, but I don’t think Sasha has ever made complete sense to anyone.

  “No. What are you up to? Is this some sort of strip celebrity heads? Are we going to have to take our clothes off for each wrong suggestion?” Teagan asks, while we all moan at her words.

  Why give Sasha more ways to torture us?

  “Not this time, but I’ll make a note for next time.” She winks at Teagan who at least looks apologetic when she glances at us. “But to make this more fun, for any wrong suggestion, you must drink.”

  A joint sigh takes over the room. We figured out her ploy, and it isn’t entirely awful. We just all have to make sure we know the right answer.

  Easy, right?

  “Okay, Nix is up first.” She hands him a crudely made headband—a strip of paper that has the ends stuck together—and she sticky taped a label to the front that reads Dick Van Dyke.

  We all groan as Sasha’s game idea suddenly becomes a hell of a lot clearer.

  “What? What did she put on there?” Nix whines, reaching up to take off his headband before Sasha slaps his hands away.

  “No cheating. Cheating means you have to finish an entire bottle of wine!” Sasha threatens, stopping Nix in his tracks.

  He rolls his eyes. Then we answer his questions until he finally comes to the right name.

  “He said dick. You all have to drink!”

  There isn’t much protest, because that wasn’t a quick round. And because, just how many names can she come up with to keep this going?

  Apparently, a lot.

  The next name she places on him is Willie Wonka, and by that stage, Nix has cottoned on to what is happening. Therefore, he starts to think of names that can also mean penis, and that also means we drink a hell of a lot more. And for each wrong answer, he has to drink also.

  Then, us women get names like Kid Rock, Babe Ruth, and Lee Child, as well as movie titles like Baby Driver, Baby Daddy, Three Men and a Baby, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, Karate Kid, and Spy Kids. All of this causes Nix to drink. Plus, we all feel more competitive in our drunk state, since we keep guessing any movies that have the word baby or kid in it, getting more outlandish the drunker we get.

  Nix is basically blind drunk within an hour, and we don’t fare much better, not when Nix has names like Willie Nelson, Dick Tracy, Dick Clark, Alfred Hitchcock, Cock Robin, Moby Dick, and even Courtney Cox, which we try to argue shouldn’t fit, but we’re too inebriated to get far with the argument.

  Soon, we can’t stop laughing, can’t stop swaying as the room spins, and I love the fact that Scarlett is burrowed into my side, her hand over my thigh and her head resting on my shoulder.

  Even though none of us wanted this night to turn messy, no one can argue that the permanent smiles on our lips and us all laughing until our sides hurt isn’t a great way to spend a night.

  I sometimes forget, or perhaps just take it for granted, how much fun these nights with the girls and Nix can be. The next morning is never fun, but many of my fondest memories are while we are half-drunk and doing something silly. I’m sure if I could remember everything, I would have even more wonderful memories.

  I hope I remember this feeling next time Sasha forces us into having another drinking night, instead of always remembering the hangover the next day.

  This is fun, and life is supposed to be fun.

  My eyes are half-closed as I listen to more snickers. It takes far too long for me to focus on Nix’s head to see Sasha has moved on to the animal names.

  His small sign says peacock, and that word is suddenly absolutely hilarious. I mean, peacock! Pea! Cock! What strange words to put together. And what the hell does it have to do with the animal? More than that, it sounds funny! And after Nix manages to shout it out loud several times, it doesn’t even sound real.

  Peacock is made up, right?

  What the hell is a peacock again?

  It gets worse for poor Nix, and then in return for us. He is forced to guess the names cockroach, Rooster, which meant the word cock followed that one closely, and woodpecker are the obvious ones. But, are there truly insects called Cockchafer? Slipper
y Dick? Dik-dik? And how the hell am I supposed to know that baby goats, apes, baboons, lemurs, and monkeys are either called kids or infants? The only one we guess correctly is stalk. Although, we all protest when Sasha says we have to drink when Nix correctly guesses Anaconda.

  “Anaconda is not a penis, Sash,” Ava argues, her voice more slurred than clear. With my drunk ears, though, she makes enough sense for me to follow.

  “Tell that to Sir-Mix-A-Lot. Now drink up!” Sasha encourages. She thankfully ordered us all a late-night snack of three giant pizzas, proving she might be a little more responsible than she used to be, and gives us glasses of water that she encourages us to drink throughout the night. None of it helps to completely soak up or dilute the alcohol.

  I’m borderline passed-out drunk by the time the guys come back from their own night out, and it takes no time at all for them to assess the situation.

  “Sasha, you were supposed to keep an eye on everyone!” Zander growls, catching Ava when she throws herself at him.

  I have seen a similar action from their kids. They all seem to think Zander will catch them, no matter how big they are. I suppose they learned it from their mother.

  “I have been, and I’ve even recorded some of tonight for your viewing pleasure later on,” she announces smugly.

  Wait. She recorded us?

  Declan chuckles as he moves over to his wife and hugs her to his side. “I’m just glad I won’t be putting up with a hungover wife tomorrow.”

  “Are you trying to say I’m not nice to be around when I’m hungover?” Sasha demands. I get the feeling there is no correct answer.

  “You are not making me a smoothie,” Nix grumbles when Harvey helps him stand, cutting off Declan from having to answer his impossible question.

  “We’ll see,” Harvey says, his tone clearly disapproving.

  While I know Harvey is resigned to the fact that Nix is likely to always be wasted whenever he comes to these things with us and is unfortunately always invited, he seems to have accepted that this is just how things are. He always looks so forlorn when he leaves him here, like he wishes he could tuck Nix away and protect him from us.

 

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