Tangled Mess

by Middleton, K. L.

  “How’s Ransom doing?”

  She snorted. “He left early this morning and then came back, drunk. He passed out about four hours ago in his old room, and is still sleeping.”

  “I’m sure this is hard for everyone.”

  “Right,” she mumbled. “He’s hardly visited her at all these past few months, and he lives in California, for God’s sake.”

  “Doesn’t he travel a lot?”

  “Yes, but he still could have seen her plenty. Obviously, he was too busy partying and raising hell. It just makes me so sick sometimes, you know? Just because he’s famous now doesn’t give him an excuse to be a jackass.”

  “I don’t think he’s very happy.”

  “Boo hoo,” she mumbled. “He has everything he’s always wanted, and if that doesn’t make him happy, then he seriously needs help.”

  Not wanting to get her any angrier, I changed the subject. “Okay forget Ransom, how are really doing?”

  She released a shaky breath. “I miss her so much. I mean I talked on the phone with every day, and she was always there for me. Always. God, I keep checking my phone, expecting to see a missed call from her or a text.” Her voice hitched. “I just don’t know how I’m going to get through my wedding without her at my side.”

  “You will, sweetie. And she would want you to,” I said, remembering how I’d said these same words to myself when my own mother had died. It had become a mantra, and although I’d had a hard time believing it at first, over time it had actually helped me cope.

  “I know you’ve been through this,” she said softly. “And I wish I would have been there for you, knowing how much pain you went through. I feel like such a selfish bitch.”

  “No… no… no. You had your own grief to deal with,” I replied. “I didn’t expect anything from you and… it was something that I had to deal with myself. Just like with your mom. It’s great having friends and family with you, but at night, when you’re lying in bed, and thinking about the person you lost, that’s when it gets really difficult anyway. Just remember that I’m always here for you. No matter the distance, no matter the hour. You call me if you need to talk.”

  “I love you Tiff,” she said softly. “And I’ve missed you.”

  “I love you too Rem. Don’t worry, you’ll get through this. It hurts, and the pain feels like it’s never going to end, but you’ll get through this. Just take it one day at a time.”

  “I hope so. One moment I feel numb and like I can’t cry another tear, the next, I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. It’s horrible.”

  “I know.”

  It had been hell for me too, especially when I had to go through all of her things. The photographs, the familiar scent of perfume in her sweaters, and all of the silly things I’d made for her in school that she’d cherished and kept. It was then that the finality of it really hit me hard. My mom was gone, and never coming back.

  She blew her nose again. “Oh… Taylor is trying to call, I’d better answer it. I’ll call you later.”

  “Just when you have a chance. I know you’re busy with everything.”

  “Never too busy for you. I’m not making any more mistakes with our friendship, Tiff.”

  I smiled. Sometimes it took a loss to appreciate what you still had. “You didn’t make any mistakes, hon. Just remember that.”

  “Regardless, I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay.”

  After we hung up, I scarfed down a turkey sandwich, and then greeted my last customer of the day. After determining what she wanted, I went into the back room to search for a suitable hair color when Sinclair stormed in.

  “Dammit, I’m done with men,” she snarled, clenching her teeth. She was pacing and had her cell phone gripped tightly in her hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Stopping, she folded her arms under her chest and leaned back against the wall. “Reed. I haven’t been able to get a hold of him, and Jesse said he’s not returning any of his calls either.”

  “Is he in court or with a client?” I asked. It was four o’clock and that didn’t seem unreasonable.

  “No. Well, not that I know of. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  She sighed. “We got into this argument last night after he was late for dinner. We argued and then he left. I more or less kicked him out.”

  “Oh my God, why?”

  She stared down at her sandals. “I was pissed. I’d planned this romantic evening for the both of us, and had warned him about being late, that I had something very important that I wanted to tell him. Well,” she looked up, “he didn’t show up until after nine, and his excuse was that he had to give that bimbo assistant of his a ride home because her car was in the shop.”

  “Ah,” I replied, remembering how Sinclair had complained about her.

  “What pisses me off is that he was supposed to be home by seven-thirty.” Her lips thinned. “I guess that after he drove chesty home, she asked if he could look at her computer, because it supposedly had a virus or something. Claimed she couldn’t get into her work files. So, obviously, he had to stick around and help the little witch.”

  “Did he call you?”

  “No. He said he lost track of time.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I think the only virus that woman has is between her legs,” she mumbled, tears in her eyes. “I’ve seen the way she stares at him. Like he’s the last man on earth, and it’s her mission to repopulate the planet. And obviously, he’s clueless. Dammit, why are men so clueless? Especially Reed?”

  I wanted to point out that it was possible they weren’t as clueless as she presumed, but that wasn’t going to help the situation.

  “Do you trust him?”

  “I want to. I really do. But now Jesse says that I should give up on him after hearing about this,” she wiped a tear from her cheek. “He doesn’t think Reed will change. Thinks he’s always going to be a player. How am I supposed to trust someone whose own brother thinks he’s a scoundrel?”

  “Good point, but he doesn’t sleep with Reed, and he doesn’t know what’s really in his brother’s heart. What do you feel in your heart?”

  She smiled bitterly. “I don’t know. It’s my head that’s telling me to be careful. I’ve learned that my heart is gullible, and to not trust it too much.”

  “Have you accused him of cheating to his face?”

  “It kind of came out last night. I didn’t exactly accuse him of cheating, though. I did accuse him of being easily manipulated by women.”

  “So he left?”

  “Well,” she smiled sheepishly. “I kind of pressured him to leave after he stuck up for Nina and said that I was being ridiculous.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, resting my hand on her shoulder. “My experience with guys hasn’t been all that good either.”

  “Men are fucking pricks,” replied Thane, the owner of Tangled, as he walked into the back room, and filled the small space with his massive frame. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before, Mufasa,” chuckled Sinclair. “But your own actions prove otherwise.”

  With his shoulder-length blonde hair, and golden eyes, we referred to him as “The Lion King”, not only because of his ruggedly handsome looks, but the fact that he was very protective of all of us. Especially after Sera, our nail technician, had ended up in the hospital after being attacked in her garage a couple of weeks earlier. Not only had he paid for a new security system for her home, but he spent a lot of nights there as well, making us wonder if there was something more going on between them.

  He grabbed a broom and dustpan. “That’s because I don’t mix business and pleasure. It’s a very bad combination.”

  “What about Sera?” I teased.

  “Sera? She doesn’t mix business and pleasure either. At least, as far as I know.”

  “Right,” chuckled Sinclair.

  He cocked an eyebrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh nothing,” she said innocently.

  “Look, there’s nothing going on with Sera and me. She’s had enough problems with men, and doesn’t need another guy intruding on her life.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad because I think you and Sera would make such a cute couple,” replied Sinclair.

  His eyes softened. “Cute? Oh, hell. She’s too good for a schmuck like me.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” said Sinclair. “From what we see, you’re all talk and really just a big Teddy-bear.”

  He reached over, and tugged one of her red curls. “Looks can be deceiving. Hell, if you girls knew about my past, you’d probably look for a new job.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Sinclair. “I’m sure that whatever you did can’t be all that bad.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Why don’t you tell us and we can decide,” I prodded, wondering what he was hiding.

  He grinned. “Sorry. It’s classified information. If I tell you…”

  “You’d have to shoot us?” I finished.

  He smiled and ignored the question. “Anyway, I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but doing something for Sera, like being a temporary watch-dog, makes me somehow feel like I’m redeeming myself.”

  “Do they know who attacked her yet?” I asked.

  His lips tightened. “She thinks it’s her ex-husband, but can’t prove it and the police can’t seem to find the son-of-a-bitch.”

  I thought of Sera’s young daughter, and grimaced. “Wow. Poor Sera and Emma.”

  He nodded. “Emma is an amazing little girl, though. She deserves so much more than that bastard, for a father. I hope she never has to see him again.”

  “That’s so sad,” I said.

  “But true. He’s dangerous,” said Thane.

  Sinclair sighed. “So, men are pricks. Are you’re talking from personal experience?”

  He smirked. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve been a piece of shit to women in the past. I’ve cheated, lied, and have used women for whatever means I needed at the time.”

  “Wow,” replied Sinclair. “I wouldn’t go sharing this information. Especially if you want any sympathy from us or help finding dates.”

  “I’m not asking for anything, I’m just warning you both to be careful. Most guys are out for one thing – themselves. Anyway, you’d better get out to your customer, Tiffany,” he said, looking out the door. “She looks a little irritated.”

  I grabbed the swatches I’d selected and raced past him. “Crap, I forgot.”

  I’d also forgotten to ask Sinclair what the news was that she had for Reed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tiffany

  I got off early on Thursday, and drove to Borgenstein’s Funeral Home, which was only about twenty minutes from the shop. Turning off the radio, I looked down at my clothing and wondered if my black, lacy camisole was too revealing under the dark linen suit I’d picked out. I hadn’t thought much about it until I’d caught one of my older male customers leering at my cleavage when I’d trimmed his bangs earlier. I’d never sped through a hair-cut so fast in my life. Knowing that it was too late to do anything about my outfit, I shrugged it off and pulled my car into the parking lot.

  “Great,” I muttered, noticing the reporters surrounding the entrance. Fortunately, the family had also hired security, and the guests were being ushered quickly inside of the building.

  “Can I see your I.D.?” asked the tall lot attendant, who was holding a clipboard. He reminded me of an actor my mother used to go crazy for, Sam Elliot, back when his hair was still dark, and he was kicking guys out of bars on television.

  I handed him my driver’s license and he checked my name against the list.

  “You’re good to go, darlin’,” he said, his lips curling up.

  I stared at him in awe; he even sounded like Sam Elliot. “That’s a relief. Um, has anyone ever told you that you look and sound just like Sam Elliot?”

  He chuckled. “Let’s just say it hasn’t hurt my love-life any. My first name is Sam, by the way.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding?”

  “Short for Sampson,” he said, holding out his hand.

  I laughed and shook it. “Nice to meet you. You already know my name.”

  “Yep, and I won’t be forgettin’ it any time soon,” he replied with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Now, little lady, park over to your left and I’ll have someone usher you inside.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “Anytime, Tiffany. Anytime,” he replied, stepping back from my car.

  I parked the car, and then was escorted by two other security men, one of which I caught staring at my camisole with a little too much interest.

  Dammit.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” prodded one of the reporters as I was ushered towards the doorway. “How do you know the deceased? Are you a family member?”

  I kept my face down, and stepped into the main foyer of the building, where the familiar smell of despair, and carnations made my heart ache for my friends.

  “Tiffany?”

  I turned to the sound of Ransom’s voice, and found him walking up a set of stairs. My heart skipped a beat as he walked towards me with his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, you certainly clean up nice,” I blurted out loud, like an idiot.

  He looked down, and I felt really foolish as I thought of why he’d dressed up. There was no denying, though, that he looked very striking in his black tailored suit. Like some kind of G.Q. model. He smiled grimly. “Thanks.”

  “Uh, sure,” I answered, still feeling rather stupid.

  He tilted his head. “Remy said you’d be here, but I didn’t know for sure. With the contest and all…”

  “This is more important than the contest,” I answered quickly. “Your mother means more to me than any contest.”

  He nodded. “I appreciate you coming.”

  I licked my lips “I’m so sorry for you loss.”

  “Thanks. Me too,” he answered with a hitched voice.

  I stared up into his eyes, and the despair reflected there broke my heart. He looked like a lost little boy, and I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him, tell him that it would be okay, that I’d be there for him as long as he needed me. “Ransom, I-”

  “Tiffany?”

  I turned around, and was immediately engulfed by Remy, who was three inches taller than me without heels. “Oh, Rem,” I said, as she hugged me tightly.

  “I’m so glad that you’re here,” she said, releasing me. “Mom would be happy too, that you came.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” I said, looking up at her.

  “You look the same,” she smiled sadly, as she wiped her nose with a tissue. “Actually, I lied. You look more beautiful than ever.”

  “No, you look beautiful,” I countered. And it was true. With her dark ebony hair, gray eyes, and high cheekbones, she looked a lot like her brother.

  “Thanks. I’d better bring you in to see her. They were able to make her presentable and so it’s an open-casket,” she said, grabbing my hand. She pulled me down a hallway, and I glanced back at Ransom, who began following us.

  “Oh,” I answered. “Well, um, that’s good.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Most of the family is already here.”

  “Okay.”

  She led me through a small crowd of people to the casket, where her mom rested.

  “She looks beautiful,” I whispered, staring at the peaceful expression on Carol’s face. She looked a lot like Remy, only not so rail-thin. Right now, Remy looked like she was twenty pounds underweight. With all of the stress in her life, I could certainly understand why. “Just like she’s sleeping.”

  Remy reached over and adjusted the necklace on Carol’s dark blue dress. “I know. I keep waiting for her to open her eyes and tease me. Like she did when I was little. I’d go to her bedroom in the middle of the night, wh
en I was scared, and stare at her until she woke up. She always knew when I was there.”

  “I think she knows you’re here now and is still watching you,” I said softly.

  She smiled sadly.

  “Where’s your fiancé?” I asked, looking around.

  Her face darkened. “Taylor? Well, he had to stay another night. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow, for the funeral.”

  “Oh. I’m sure he must feel awful.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then lowered her voice. “The truth is, mom didn’t care for Taylor that much and I think he sensed it. They didn’t get a long.”

  Ransom moved beside us. “That’s because mom was always a good judge of character,” he said quietly.

  “Don’t start,” she said, her jaw clenched.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Seeing the anger in Remy’s eyes, I quickly changed change the subject. “So, how long are you staying in town, Rem?”

  “I… I don’t know,” she said. “I guess someone needs to go through her things and…” she reached into her pocket and grabbed another tissue. “Figure things out,” she said, swiping at fresh tears.

  “Oh, honey, if you need any help at all. Please let me know,” I said, putting an arm around her.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll help, too,” said Ransom.

  She snorted. “Yeah, right. Like you helped when dad died?”

  His face fell. “I offered to help. Mom refused to let me.”

  “That’s because of Icon. She didn’t want to impose on your career.”

  “What?”

  She let out a ragged sigh. “Mom never wanted to cause you any stress or get in the way of your music. You were always her superstar-can-do-no-wrong-son.”

  He raised his voice. “Get in the way of my career? He was my father, for Christ’s sake. If she would have just said something...”

  “Shush,” she hissed as everyone turned towards them. “Don’t cause a fucking scene. I know it’s hard not being the center of attention, but this is about mom, not you.”

  “You’re incredible,” he said, gritting his teeth.

  “And you’re intolerable,” she said, glaring at him.