Security Risk

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Security Risk Page 4

by MEGAN MATTHEWS


  “A second coat?” She’s kidding right?

  “Yeah, the blue is light. It will take at least another coat. Maybe two. Do you have extra bags to store the rollers?” She takes the plastic bag from the hardware and wraps up her brush full of blue paint.

  “Sure.” Everyone has a stash of plastic bags under their sink, right? The infamous bag o’ bags. Gertie must have one around here.

  Katy smacks the lid back on the gallon of paint and picks up the paint tray. “We’ll store these in the fridge until coat two.” She leaves out the door and I catch her laughing down the hallway.

  “What?” I ask stepping up behind her.

  “Oh nothing. I was thinking you could invite Ridge over to show him your fresh paint job.” She pauses then chuckles again. “Then ask him to dirty it up with you. Leave a few hand prints on the wall.”

  “Ridge?” How the hell does she know about him?

  “He’s your next door neighbor. Wait till you meet him.” She opens the fridge and places her wrapped brush and paint tray in the bottom. “You need food.”

  It’s time to come clean. “We’ve met. He helped me get into the house last night.”

  “Oh… really? Half the town will be jealous because you get to live next to The Ridge Jefferson. Those who aren’t in love with Mack settle firmly in the would-have-Ridge’s-babies category.”

  I silently laugh at her assessment. “Which category do you fall into?”

  “Mack for sure.” She’s quick to answer. “I mean, Ridge is pretty, but in third grade he told the entire school I had a crush on him. They teased me for weeks.”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course, but he didn’t need to be such a dick about it.” Katy closes the refrigerator door with a huff. “Plus he’s defective…. It’s too bad, really. I bet he looked damn hot in his uniform.”

  “You never saw him in uniform?”

  She sighs. “No he rarely came home. A few surprise visits over the years is all.”

  “Are you sure he was in the Army?” My curiosity for the hot neighbor grows.

  “No, SEALs are Navy, Sweetie. I spent many nights imagining him in that bright white uniform off doing super-secret spy activities. His dad never gave us many details and Ridge doesn’t talk about his time in the service either. So the fantasy slowly dried up.”

  “So why is he defective?” I lean over the counter to get closer and pass off my roller to her. He looked like a perfect specimen last night… and this morning.

  She tosses the paint roller onto the bottom shelf and I flinch worried there’s now paint in my refrigerator. Katy turns back, pinching her lip, and looks me over. “Oh well. I guess you’ll find out from someone in town sooner or later.”

  “Yeah?” I lean even closer meaning I’m practically lying on the counter between us. When I realize it I lean back and try not to seem too interested, even though I’m sure I’ve blown my cover.

  “He’s a bad breaker-upper,” she says solemnly like she just announced he might die tomorrow.

  What? I hope Katy is kidding, but the dead serious expression on her face suggests otherwise. I laugh and pull back from the counter.

  “No, seriously, Tabitha. A Bad Breaker-Upper. Ridge has left broken hearts all over the county.” Katy must see the skepticism on my face because she continues. “In seventh grade he wrote ‘Have a nice summer’ in Connie Michaels’ yearbook. It was the harshest breakup any of us had ever seen. They only get worse from there.”

  “That’s a breakup?”

  “Exactly. They’d dated the entire year and then she gets a ‘have a nice summer’ like they were no closer than chemistry lab partners. It devastated poor Connie.”

  I pat her on the back. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m safe from any yearbook fiascos from Ridge. I plan to keep my panties firmly on my ass.” Once he sees I’m on my feet, I’ll probably only see him on the occasions we pass each other in the driveway.

  She shakes her head at me. “You say that now, but give it time.” A door closes and I glance up to find Katy going through my kitchen cupboards. “You have no food here. I’m starved. Let’s go to the diner.”

  Paint is splattered in my hair and on my hands and face, but I’m starving as well. The granola bar didn’t hold me over as long as I thought it would, and we didn’t take a break to shop for groceries. “Okay. Let me wash up first.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Twenty minutes later Katy and I stand outside Bonnie’s Diner on Main Street. I managed to get the paint off my face and hands, but blobs of light blue are still stuck in my hair. It looks like I’m sporting highlights from a paintball gun. Katy swore there wasn’t time for a shower, but she somehow painted and didn’t get a drop on her. She could be a witch. Or a relative of Martha Stewart.

  “Bonnie’s has the best club sandwich,” Katy says as she holds the glass door open for me.

  Let’s hope the food is better than the décor. Bonnie’s hasn’t changed a single bit since my last visit to Pelican Bay. It’s your typical 1980s diner. There are no cute black and white tile floors or themed pictures on the wall. Rather it’s stark and in a weird way reminds me of the restaurant the characters always ate at on the Seinfeld sitcom.

  There’s a white tile floor, rows of booths on the side wall, and tables spread out in the open area. A laminate counter spans the length of the back wall with stools lined up underneath. Two men in trucker hats sit at the counter, plates of food in front of them. A few other couples take up various seats, and a family of four sits at a table in the middle. The two children sit under the table and take turns hitting one another. Their parents remain blissfully unaware and continue eating like there’s nothing strange happening. They’re my favorite group in the bunch because for whatever reason — probably pretending their kids aren’t covered in floor germs — they haven’t turned to stare.

  “Nothing to see here, people!” Katy yells out to the onlookers and my cheeks turn bright red.

  But surprisingly it works. Everyone turns back to their meals without a sound and we walk the rest of the way into Bonnie’s and pick a seat in the far back. The black vinyl of the booth crinkles as I slide in, my jeans catching on a rip in the fabric.

  “You’re a crazy person,” I whisper across the table. This whole town is full of crazy people. They walk in your house uninvited, act like they’ve known you their entire life, and steal your mail. Who does that?

  The crazy blonde in front of me shrugs like she’s heard that comment more than once. Although the help with painting and a hot guy neighbor aren’t so bad if I think about it. Small town life might have a few perks — if you’re able to get over the general weirdness. It’s probably cabin fever from being stuck inside all winter. They’re so excited they survived the freezing temperatures now they feel the need to socialize with other lifeforms.

  “What’ll you ladies have?” The waitress asks. She’s clad in a pair of black pants and a matching black polo, with Bonnie’s Diner embroidered in the corner.

  Katy hands our laminated menus over before I look at the items. “A Moxie and the club. Thanks.”

  “And you, Tabitha?” the waitress asks and looks to me. Seriously, this town is fucking weird. Pearl’s phone tree gets around.

  “The same… Trish.” I read her name off the white name badge affixed to her shirt. If she’s allowed to know my name it’s only fair I learn hers. “But with a coke.” I’ve never heard of this Moxie thing.

  Trish walks away and Katy laughs — possibly at my expression as my eyes scan the diner looking to see who’s staring at me. It’s like being an animal on display at the zoo.

  “They’ll get over it. Right now you’re the kid who transferred into a small high school senior year. The shiny new object everyone wants to play with.”

  It’s weird how Katy acts like this situation is normal. Hell, to her it probably is. She has no idea how private and solo the rest of the world is. There were times I’d go days without seeing someone I k
new in the city.

  Katy and I talked for hours while we painted this afternoon. I’m pretty sure I’ve learned everything there is to know about the perky blonde. Twenty-six like me, she graduated high school and then spent five years at Pelican Bay University, a small private school, studying… well everything. The girl changed majors more than I change nail polish. She finally settled on administration and is now an office manager at a doctor’s office in Whitecap three days a week.

  I don’t want to start my new life here with lies, but it’s hard to dress up my lackluster history. She received the truth, but a muted, watered down version.

  “Don’t let them bother you, Tabitha. Most people who live in the Bay are nice once you get to know them. And trust me to steer you clear of the not-so-nice ones.”

  I peel my eyes away from the rest of the diner and focus on Katy as Trish delivers our drinks. Katy’s is served in a glass bottle with an orange label and dark liquid inside. My stomach growls at her comment. “It’s different from the city. There you’re surrounded by people, but still feel alone. You never truly know someone.”

  With no real friends or commitments in Westford, it was easy to pick up and move without a forwarding address. One afternoon spent with Katy and I question why I didn’t move here four years ago.

  “It doesn’t matter. We all live and die, right? The important part to remember about Pelican Bay is this. They’ve already decided whether they like you or not. There’s nothing you can do to change it, so don’t stress about it. If you walk around trying to please everyone, you’ll end up on Bayview screaming into the sea.”

  She sounds like Aunt Gertie and I simply nod back.

  “It’s too hard to act like someone else. To fit in. I spent four years with that in high school. I sure as hell won’t do it anymore. Be yourself. Everyone will judge you one way or another.” She leans in close so not to be overheard. “So why not give them a good story?”

  Trish places two plates in front of us and Katy wastes no time picking up a slice of her sandwich and taking a large bite. The platter looks like a club you’d get anywhere else — the bread cut into four pieces with a toothpick keeping the tomato, lettuce, bacon and other random meats together. There’s a pickle wedge on the side.

  Still, for the first time in at least the last hour, Katy has stopped chatting. I need a moment to gather my thoughts. It’s been a hell of a week. What living have I done in the last few years? Not much. I met Mario after I finished college — the last time I had fun — a whirlwind romance ensued and I moved in with him after a month of dating. Not my smartest decision. I accept that. My hand falls to my thigh and I rub my palm over the minor bulge in my pocket. The white thumb drive with copied files from Mario’s private computer is small enough to forget about, but I never do.

  Pelican Bay isn’t only a chance for me to get away from Mario, but from everything. It’s an opportunity to reinvent my life. Get back to the girl I used to be before I forgot myself. There’s no one looking over my shoulder. It’s my time to say fuck it and shine. Aunt Gertie would be proud.

  “Oh. One of those douchebags I mentioned earlier is on your six.”

  I half turn.

  “Don’t check! Your newness will call him over here. It’s like a freaking beacon. You’re flashing ‘Look at me. I’m new! Come, introduce yourself.’”

  “What?” I whip back around and try to act casual — whatever that means.

  Katy sighs. “Too late. Here he comes.”

  A shadow falls over my food as a tall guy in khakis and a dark blue polo stops at the end of our table. “Katy.” His eyes barely flit over to her before he’s focused on me. “Tabitha.” He smirks.

  “Pierce,” she says between clenched teeth.

  His dirty blond hair’s swept off to the side in a flawless hairdo. It probably takes him half a bottle of gel every morning. “Move over, Katy.”

  “Go away, Pierce.” She tries to shoo him away with her hand, but he doesn’t leave.

  “I haven’t met our new friend yet.” He sits down on my side of the bench until I’m forced to slide over, taking my food and drink with me. I shake his outstretched hand while Katy glares at us. “I’m Pierce.”

  “Yes, I heard. It’s nice to meet you.” I take my hand back as soon as possible.

  “No it’s not,” Katy sneers. Pierce looks nice, but Katy acts like he carries the bubonic plague. Although since we’ve already established she’s crazy, I’m not sure how much stock to put into her assessments.

  Pierce only laughs. “You too, Tabitha. If you need help to get around the area, please let me know. I’d be glad to—”

  “What Pierce here means to say,” Katy cuts him off, “is that he’s rich. His family owns like half the town. He expects because he has money you’ll fall all over him.”

  Pierce rolls his eyes and turns his attention to her. “Really, Katy?”

  “What?” She casually takes a bite of her sandwich like the tension at the table isn’t ready to break it down the middle as Pierce stares daggers at her.

  “Pelican Bay is a tiny town, Tabitha. Be careful who you stick in your friend column. You don’t want to associate with the riff raff.” Pierce’s narrowed eyes never stray from Katy’s direction.

  She takes another bite of sandwich, unperturbed by his warning. “Whatever, Pierce. Go back to your yacht club. They’ll listen to your bullshit since you write all their checks.”

  “At least I can afford to write checks. Do you think you’ll make your rent on time this month?” Pierce scoffs across the table leaning closer and lowering his voice.

  “It was one time, three years ago, Pierce Kensington,” Katy screeches back at him.

  The bell attached to the diner door rings, but I refuse to look away from these two, worried Katy may jump across the table to strangle him at any moment. Plus, from her volume at his insult I’m sure we’ve drawn more attention. At least it’s not my fault this time.

  “Great, here comes another one,” Katy’s eyes focus behind Pierce but I don’t let myself turn.

  “Why are you in my seat, Pierce?” Ridge’s deep voice draws my eyes.

  He’s wearing one of those red and black button down flannel shirts with a tight black t-shirt underneath. I’m sure the pattern has a name, but I’ve never taken an interest in flannel until this exact moment.

  “Jefferson.” Pierce tenses. “I didn’t realize you’d peed on her already.” Pierce stands up from our booth but leans back before giving Ridge room. “See you around, Tabitha,” he whispers in my ear.

  My mouth hangs open as Ridge slides into the seat next to me and Pierce walks out of the diner like nothing weird happened.

  “You rent from him?” I ask Katy when I’ve composed myself.

  “I told you his family owns half the town.” She’s gone back to her sandwich and answers between bites.

  My stomach rumbles again and I start in on my food since our current drama seems finished.

  “You plan to come in and wave money around too, hot stuff?” she asks Ridge.

  Okay so the drama is not over then.

  “I’ve never figured out why she hates me so much.” Ridge looks to me, waiting for my input.

  Katy’s huff is laced with disbelief. “It was third grade for me, fifth for you. You announced to the entire hallway I loved you, but you found me repulsive. I had to go home and look the word up in the dictionary to figure out why the kids were laughing.”

  “What? I only said that because you made your stupid ‘I love Ridge card’ and gave it to me for Valentine’s day.”

  “You did?” I ask Katy. “That’s cute.” I playfully smack Ridge on the arm.

  He slides even farther into the booth and steals the pickle off my plate. “Not when you’re ten. The guys heckled me for weeks. I’d walk down the hallway and they’d make kissing sounds at me while chanting her name.”

  The table falls silent for a beat until I can’t hold it in any longer and laugh at the e
ntire exchange. I’m forced to take a drink of my coke to help calm down.

  “Oh.” Katy’s face looks like a mash up of laughter, sorrow, and a little regret. “Well then I’m sorry for the bad comments I’ve made about you over the years.” She pinches her top lip and mumbles, “and more recently.”

  “She’s talked about me?” Ridge turns his attention to me and I slow my chewing so I’m not forced to answer him. “Don’t believe a word of it.”

  A cell phone beeps and I instinctively reach into my back pocket to check mine. It hasn’t beeped all day, but I’m still carrying it. Habit, I guess.

  “How do you get signal here?” I ask Ridge when he pulls his own phone out and quickly responds to a text message.

  Not that I want to see how many times Mario has called me today, but I considered a quick swing into the hardware store to guarantee nothing important has happened. You know, murder, mayhem, or more realistically him throwing my stuff in my mother’s front yard.

  “It all depends on who you know when it comes to phone signal in Pelican Bay.” He winks at me like there’s a big secret cell phone tower sitting on the end of Main Street and I haven’t noticed it yet. “I have to go, but don’t do anything Katy suggests. She’s a bad influence.”

  “Hey, I apologized. We’re good now,” Katy rebuts. “Plus, I warned her to stay away from Pierce.”

  “You’re still trouble.” He tosses the last bite of my pickle in his mouth and moves to the edge of the bench. “Remember when you tried to poison Mr. Strong, the math teacher, in high school?”

  “I did not poison him! I made those cookies to suck up before finals. It’s not my fault he had a peanut allergy.”

  “Uh-huh. Are you sure you want me to leave you with her, Tabitha?”

  “Don’t worry, Ridge. I’ll take good care of Tabs.”

  “Tabs?” I ask her, not in love with this shortened name.

  She picks a piece of loose bacon off her plate, plopping it in her mouth. “Would you prefer Tabby?”

 

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