by ANDREA SMITH
“That’s just great!” Gina fumed.
Oh-oh, here it was.
“He knew damn well that he had way too many groups booked for auditions this week. There was no way in hell he was going to get through them all, I told him that. But it was ‘no, babe, we can handle it, no way in hell this will keep me from seeing you this weekend, babe’.
Bullshit! I’ve half a mind to head downtown and get the ‘Ian’ I have tattooed on my ass removed!”
All in all, it appeared that Gina was taking the news pretty well.
“Now don’t do anything rash, Gina. You and Tylar can hang out this weekend, host a barbecue or pool party,” Becky suggested.
“Not likely,” Gina mumbled, “Trey’s coming in this weekend. The last thing he’s going to want is me here as the third wheel.”
“I’m sure it will all work out,” Becky said, giving Gina a sympathetic couple of pats on her back.
Gina and I collected our pay envelopes and headed out.
“Let’s walk back to the manor,” Gina suggested. “I need to burn off some energy.”
She continued to rant and rave about Ian during most of the trek back. I stopped off at the stables to visit Derringer and ran into Clint.
“Hey, how’s it going Tylar?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Doing great,” I replied.
“Have you met Gina Hatton?” I asked, changing the
subject.
Clint wiped his hand off on his shirt, extending it to her.
“I’ve seen you around,” he spoke, addressing Gina. “Clint Cavanaugh,” he finished my introduction for me.
“You are Becky’s niece, right?”
“That’s right,” Gina answered.
“Just here helping out for maybe another
week then back to Atlanta.”
“Well, are you girls going to be at the quarter races tonight?”
I couldn’t believe that Clint had asked that.
“Doubtful,” I hissed, still a bit raw from the humiliating experience of last weekend.
“C’mon,” he coaxed, “No one thought badly about you for that. Everyone pretty much knew who was pulling the strings there.”
Gina looked back and forth at us quizzically.
“Long story,” I said. “I’ll fill you in later.”
I turned back to Clint.
“Yeah, but you kind of played a part in that, Clint.”
He looked genuinely sheepish, absently, kicking some loose straw around on the stable floor.
“Look, Tylar, “I’m really sorry, okay? You have to believe that I did it for your own safety. I might have been remiss in protecting you that night in the pool. I damn sure wasn’t going to let anything happen to you again, at least not while on my watch.”
“What the hell is it with all these guys wanting to protect you, Tylar? Must be that helpless female thing you got going,” Gina teased.
I shot her a dirty look unable to keep a hint of amusement out of it.
“No hard feelings, Clint, and maybe we will see you over at the track tonight.”
Gina and I continued on up to the manor.
“Maybe it would be fun to go to the track tonight,” I commented.
“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling devilishly, “We might even meet some guys!”
I knew Gina was joking; she never stopped talking about Ian, divulging every intimate part of their life together while we worked. I was envious of her for that. I wondered what it felt like to be that in love and lust 24/7.
She said Ian grounded her. I couldn't imagine how Gina would be if ‘ungrounded’. I knew she was disappointed, but going to the quarter races would get her mind off of the fact she wouldn’t be seeing Ian this weekend, plus it would kill time for me until Trey got in. The butterflies were restless today.
Once we returned to the manor, we went our separate ways. My cell phone was ringing when I got to my room. It was Trey ;-).
“Hi,” I answered sounding a bit overly excited to hear from him.
“Hey, there,” smooth and silky said. “What are you up to?”
“Just got in from work; ready to hop into the shower. Gina and I are going to over to the quarter races this evening.”
“Spectators only, right?”
“Of course, Trey,” I answered, rolling my eyes.
“Good girl.”
“So,” he continued, a bit hesitantly, it sounded as if he had put his hand over his Blackberry, muffling the sound of a conversation taking place at his end.
I waited, tapping my foot, as I continued rooting through my closet. Finally he was back on the phone.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’ve got a couple of conversations going on here at the moment. As I was starting to say, I’m not going to be able to make it back to Bristol this weekend after all. Opposing counsel has filed a Motion to Compel Arbitration. The judge has agreed to hear oral arguments from both sides in chambers tomorrow. He can then rule on the motion Monday morning. So I am going to be tied up late tonight prepping, and then presenting my argument tomorrow in chambers.”
My stomach butterflies crashed and burned.
(Damn!)
I heard a female voice from Trey’s end, “Trey, we have reservations for dinner. We need to leave now.”
“Hey gotta run,” he said hastily, “Talk to you soon.” Click. I didn’t know how long I held my cell phone in my hand after the “resounding” click. I only knew that as I flung it against the wall Gina opened the door to my bedroom, causing her to duck as it whizzed past her.
“What the fuck is wrong?” she demanded.
I didn’t answer her; still so angry I was ready to spit nails.
“Okay - what’s Trey done now?”
“Why do you presume it has anything to do with Trey?” I asked her, my voice having a dangerous edge to it. “I’ve told you again and again, Gina, we don’t have that kind of relationship, and what don’t you get about that?”
“Sorry, your grace,” she said a bit snippily.
“For your information, that was my mom on the phone. She’s hitting me up for money, again. No surprise there,” I lied to Gina, I didn’t know why, I just didn’t want her thinking Trey was the reason after I had made such a big deal to her about our non-relationship.
“So what’s up for tonight?” she asked.
I saw that Gina was in her bathrobe with her shampoo, body wash and post-piercing maintenance kit in her hands. I didn’t respond immediately, still reeling from Trey’s call.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower and change,” she said. “You let me know what you’re going to do when I get out.”
I was pissed but I was also determined not to let Trey spoil my weekend. He was working on something but it sure didn’t have anything to do with the case it appeared. I pulled a tight little jean shirt out of my closet, and decided to wear my new black tank half tee. My skin was lightly tanned, and the sun had brought out the golden highlights Denise had put in my hair. I checked my navel piercing before getting to the shower and it looked great; no redness or swelling. I had been taking meticulous care of it.
I jumped into Trey’s shower. Once finished I slipped in to my short, low hung jean skirt, and pulled the new black half tee tank over my head. Back in my room I selected a pair of black 2-3/4” platform sandals.
Gina was finished as well as she came to my room.
“Hey hottie! h yeah, you look fantastic! You just need a little thing to accentuate your belly button ring. Be right back.”
Oh God, I couldn’t imagine what she had in mind. It was too soon to change the jewelry on it yet. She returned a few moments later with a small dangly chain that had a way of hooking on to the barbell without having to take the barbell out. There was a lightning bolt dangling from the chain. She clipped it on.
“Perfect and super sexy with that flat tummy of yours, girl.”
“Like yours isn’t,” I remarked.
Gina had on a short white spandex skirt that
hugged every curve on her. It was low slung and she had put her navel jewelry on, a chain with a black rose dangling from it. She wore a black and white geometric print halter top, her ample breasts displayed.
“Look at you, I said laughing, “You be trolling for trouble!”
“We be ‘track tramps’ tonight girlfriend!”
Gina had arranged for Rodney to come by and take us to the track. Neither one of us was particularly in the mood to walk over on foot with our high heeled sandals and in the heat. Rodney complied, but as soon as we got to the track we were on our own.
The track served beer and wine, so we went and got a couple of plastic wine glasses filled with the ‘Belle’s own vintage Riesling. It was chilled and really tasted refreshing.
“Are you betting?” I asked Gina once we found seats in the grandstand section.
“Of course,” she replied, “I generally select by the horse’s names, I don’t believe in odds.”
“How has that worked for you,” I asked, giggling. Damn, was the wine hitting me already? I hadn’t eaten anything since a bagel for breakfast.
Gina was at the window placing her bet for the first feature race. She was betting an Exacta on a horse named ‘Gina’ (to come in first) and a horse named ‘I Kick Ass,’for second place. Both were long shots but if she had the money to waste, so what?
When she returned back to our grandstand seats, two guys were following her with two more glasses of wine for us. Oh, geez. Maybe she wasn’t kidding about ‘meeting guys’ at the track.
“Here she is! Tylar, this is Dustin and Lyle – and guess what?” she halfway shrieked, “They are identical twins!”
No shit, I thought looking at them. Not only was every feature on them identical, it appeared as if they continued to have their hair cut in exactly the same style and wore matching clothes. They had to be twenty-five years old if a day. It seemed like they were taking the “twin” thing a bit far.
“Hey,” I said, “Well which is which?”
“I’m Dustin,” the one closest to me said handing me a glass of wine.
I looked at Gina, feeling a bit peeved that she had sprung weird twins on us for the evening. They were a bit geeky as well.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the offered glass of wine and shooting her a dirty look.
“Actually,” Lyle the one who had now taken a seat next to Gina said, “We are what they refer to as ‘mirror twins’ which is to say that we are identical to the point that one is the mirror image of the other. For example, Dustin is right-handed, I am left handed. I have a mole on my left butt cheek; Dustin has the exact same mole on his right butt cheek.”
“Thanks for clarifying that for us,” I replied, turning away to roll my eyes.
They were dressed identically in tight wrangler straight leg blue jeans, with matching denim button up shirts, and red bandana scarves tied around their necks. They wore brown pointed toe cowboy boots. I downed my glass of wine in two gulps. Gina looked at Lyle and gave him a sexy wink.
“How about another couple wines, guys, I’m buying if you get them?”
“Sure, Gina,” Lyle gushed.
He took the bills from her hand and headed for the concessions. Dustin was busy showing Gina how he could turn his eyelids inside out. She was laughing as if it were the funniest thing she had ever seen. Lyle returned with our wines and a couple of beers for them. No surprise there, they both drank Busch Lite.
The horses in the first race were being introduced on to the track. Gina hooted and hollered when her namesake horse was introduced, and then a few horses later, “I Kick Ass.”
Finally the buzzer sounded and the gates went up. It was hysterical in that brief half a minute span, listening to the announcer say, “It’s “Gina” to the inside, then “I Kick Ass” right behind, “Gina,” now “I Kick Ass” breaking through to the outside. It’s “I Kick Ass’ now “Gina”. The winner is “Gina,” followed by “I Kick Ass!”
“I won, I won!” Gina was screaming, jumping up and down with both twins watching her breasts practically fall out of her halter. She quickly went back up the betting window to place her picks for the second feature.
I drank my wine, just finishing my third one when Gina returned with two more glasses. The routine continued throughout the next six races and we were both getting hammered. I couldn’t keep track as to whether Gina was winning, and by this point, I didn’t think she even cared. The twins seemed to be enjoying our company, and were good sports about fetching our drinks.
“Hey, I got an idea, Tylar,” she slurred, "Let’s get a picture of your new bellybutton ring. It looks so awesome with that low slung little jean skirt you have on.”
“That is a greaaat idea!” I agreed. “Just two little problems, Gina.”
“What are they hon?”
“First I’m not sure I can stand up on my own. Secondly, I’m seeing fucking double,” I roared, leaning over and pointing to the twins sitting next to one another.
“We can fix that,” she said. “We’ve got two bookends here that can hold you up!”
She swayed a bit as she pointed to Lyle and Dustin.
“C’mon guys,” she ordered in her normal bossy way. “You get on each side of Tylar, yeah, like that. Put your arms around her back so she doesn’t fall now,” she yelled.
“Tylar, you put one of your arms behind each of them. Put your hand on their butt moles,” she doubled over with laughter on that one.
I complied, rubbing each of my hands over their butt cheeks trying to find the mole outside of their jeans. Gina activated the camera on my phone.
“Okay everybody, ready?”
The twins squeezed in close to me resting their hands to the inside on the back of my butt.
“Cheese!” Gina hollered, snapping the digital picture.
“Here,” she said, “Before I save it see if you like it or it needs a re-take.”
I stumbled over and looked at it. I definitely looked inebriated, but my bellybutton ring looked real damned good. Sexy damned good.
“It’s a take,” I said. “Save it!”
Gina pushed the button handing me my phone back, I immediately heard a sound effect from my phone that was not associated with the ‘save’ feature. The sound was a like jet engine “whooshing.” I hurriedly flipped my phone open and saw the tail end of the envelope with wings flying off the screen.
(What the hell?)
“Oh God, Gina, you didn’t save the picture, you pushed the send button!”
I checked the ‘sent’ file.
(Fuck. That picture was on its way to Trey’s phone!)
“What?” Gina screeched. “How in the fuck did that happen?”
She pressed the button on my menu to bring up the photo.
“See it’s saved,” she said, “Take a look right here.”
I looked at what she had done. She had apparently pushed the “Save & Send” button instead of just “Save.” That brought my contact listing up to select who to send it to, since the last outgoing phone contact was Trey, she simply had hit ‘enter again’, and “whoosh” it was off to his phone. (Holy Shit!)
“Hey,” Gina said, dissolving once again into a fit of giggles, momentarily distracting me from her major phone snafu.
“Check it out, Ty; I see another one of those ‘mirror twin’ features.”
I looked at the picture again, having not previously paid attention to the twin on each side of me, arms around me close. By God she was right; each of them had a hard-on under those tight jeans; one’s curved to the right; the other’s curved to the left.
(Sweet Jesus!)
I brought my hand up to my mouth in horror. Oh My God. This was not good. Gina’s laughter was contagious. The twins were looking quite sheepish; Gina and I were ready to pee our pants. She left to place her bet for the last race of the evening. It was going to start in less than ten minutes. I sat down trying my best to compose myself as the
people around us were starting to
get irritated. I needed to chill out and sober up a bit.
Just as Gina returned from placing her bet, my cell phone rang. I glanced down at the caller I.D. It was Trey ;-) Oh Shit!
“Hello,” I answered trying my best not to sound inebriated.
It was difficult though not impossible to hear him in the grandstand with the background noise.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice was strained with fury.
“Watching the races,” I replied innocently.
“What the hell was with the picture you just sent?”
“I didn’t send it, Trey. Gina did by accident,” I replied loudly.
“Who are those two idiots with you and Gina?” he demanded, totally incensed.
“Twins,” I replied, giggling, followed by a hiccup. “Did you see my bellybutton?”
“I saw quite a lot of you in that picture, Tylar. This is how you behave yourself?”
Gina and the twins were staring at me now. They had figured out that I was in some sort of a pickle with someone. Gina knew exactly who it was. They were waiting to see how it would play out.
I didn’t appreciate getting a lecture from Trey every damn time I went out and had some fun.
“I am sending someone to get you Tylar,” he snapped angrily.
“I’m not ready to leave yet,” I slurred into the phone. I hiccupped again.
“Tylar, I mean it –"
I pushed the ‘end’ button before I heard the rest of whatever it was Trey had planned on yelling over the phone. I powered the phone off and looked over at Gina.
“I need another wine,” I announced, dropping my phone into my purse cockily.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I was leaning over the toilet in Trey’s bathroom, heaving for the umpteenth time. I was still dressed in my jean skirt and top. To the best of my recollection, Gina was in the bathroom off of her guest room, playing the same song in her toilet.
I tried to gather my thoughts as to how the hell we had even gotten back to the manor. Everything was so fuzzy. . . and painful. I promised myself that I would never, ever drink again. I couldn’t imagine what I was throwing up other than the wine. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. My head was throbbing already. Another spasm hit and I leaned over once again, this time just dry-heaving.