by Tia Louise
“This Marsh piece.” Lifting the steel and jade ring, I study the polished stone. “What if I offered you twelve for it now?”
Her lips twist, and she squints one eye. “I had a feeling you might be interested when Daisy mentioned her cousin.”
My brow relaxes, and icy calm fills my voice. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Now, now. Don’t go all Mr. Freeze on me.” She waves her hands at my face. “I’ll sell it to you for ten, even though I could easily get fifteen for it.”
“I’m not asking for any favors.”
“Consider it a sacrifice to the gods for unfreezing your cold, cold heart.”
I’m growing uncomfortable by the second. “Listen, Olsen—”
“No, you listen, Carrollton.” She steps to me, but I see the glimmer in her eyes. “You’ve been this closed-off asshole for as long as I’ve known you. I don’t get it. You’re a good-looking man, and if Sly has somehow gotten through to you, I’m happy to keep the ball rolling.”
“Females,” I grouse. “You and Daisy deserve one another. I hope you do retire from Grafton and go to work with her. From what I understand that town needs a fresh influx of interfering old biddies.”
She laughs, but I tug on my tie, which for some inane reason feels too tight.
“I’ll take your ten grand, and I’ll send it to my guy for repairs. It’ll take a few weeks, is that okay?”
“I’m changing my mind.”
“No, you’re not!” She skids over to grab my arm. “You’re not going to kill my belief in happily ever after. I’m getting this baby fixed, and I’ll tie it up in a pink bow. I expect you to name your first child after me.”
I don’t even respond to that. “Are you hungry? Let’s get something to eat.”
Chapter 19
Joselyn
We got some luck filing our report at the police station. The new desk clerk’s first cousin had an abusive husband, and she seemed to take us under her wing as a personal cause.
She arranged for a patrol car to drive by the apartment complex every night between ten and eleven, and the deputy gave us his personal number.
“It’s because you were with me.” Courtney is packing for her Friday appointments.
“I think it’s because the deputy has a thing for his dispatcher.”
She steps over to kiss my head. “Whatever it takes. I’ll follow up with my department chair about you joining Palmetto. He said if there’s money in the budget, he’ll find a place for you. Don’t want him to forget.”
“You are too good to me.” I give her a tight squeeze, but she plays it off.
“If we’re going to move to a better apartment, I need to get you earning some money.”
“Speaking of, I’ve got that client tonight at five-thirty. Want me to grab a pizza on the way home? We can chill out and watch Unsolved Mysteries or something about frogs if that’s too much…?”
“It’s a date.” She pulls her bag over her shoulder and looks past me. “Come on, Ollie! You’re going to make me late!”
“Go on.” I wave her away. “I’ll drive him to school. You get to work.”
“Sure?” Her nose wrinkles, and I wave my hand.
“Of course! I’ll get him to school. You get to work and talk to your boss.”
“He’s not really my boss…” She’s still talking as she heads out the door.
I dash to the bathroom to dust powder on my nose and pull my hair into a ponytail. I only have one appointment today, Court is doing her best to get me on at her place, but otherwise, it’s time to start cold calling. I’ll pay a visit to the different offices in town, and I need to look respectable. I add a little more blush so I don’t look too pale, then I add some gloss on top of my lipstick.
We’re in the van when Ollie squints at me from the second row. “You’re wearing a lot of makeup.”
“Too much blush?” I flip down the visor. God, the last thing I need is to look like a hooker.
“Your eyes are too dark, and why are your lips so shiny?” He puts a plastic cage on his lap and stares through the clear panel at Chartreuse.
“You can be kind of rude, you know?” I slide an eye over at him while still rubbing at the purple eyeshadow I applied. Maybe I was a little heavy-handed. “Is something bothering you?”
His chin is tucked, and while I know he loves that creepy frog, he’s acting more into her today than usual.
“Hey.” I give him a nudge with my arm. “Talk to me. We’re roomies, after all.”
He doesn’t look at me.
He studies the green amphibian a few seconds longer, like he’s receiving messages from her eerie, oversized eyes. I put my hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle rub.
“You can trust me, you know? I’m your aunt Sly. I might not look like the goddess of all wisdom, but I know a lot more than you’d expect—”
“Mom said all men are assholes. But… I’m a man. Does that make me an asshole too?”
My jaw drops, and I’m totally stumped. “Ollie… No…”
I want to pull the car over and give him a hug. How can this little guy possibly understand how his mother’s feeling? We’ve worked so hard to keep all that ugliness from him, but is that even possible? I continue rubbing his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.
“Sometimes people say things when they’re upset, and they’re really just exaggerating. Like that time you said you hated Chuck E. Cheese because it was closed when we wanted to go? It’s like that. You don’t hate Chuck E. Cheese, and your mom doesn’t think all men are assholes. She’d never think that of you.”
“It’s because my dad’s a bad man. He hurts my mom, and he wants to hurt me.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I look out the window. Why haven’t I discussed how to handle this with Courtney? I have no idea what she’s told him about the situation or what I should say about it. Lord, here I go…
“Your dad is having some problems. We hope one day he can get some help for those problems, but for now, it’s better if you’re not around him.”
“He’s still my dad. Jesse said he’s going to grow up and be just like his dad.” His voice trails off, and he studies the frog in his lap like he might cry.
Heat clouds my eyes, and I grip his shoulder. “Look at me, Oliver. You can choose what kind of man you’ll be. Understand? Some people don’t even have a dad…” Pressing my lips together, I try to think. “You could be like your mom. She’s smart and strong and loving. What if you grow up to be like her?”
He blinks quickly, and I hope I’m saying the right thing.
Our eyes meet, and he seems relieved. He also seems determined.
His little jaw sets, and he nods. “I’ll be a better man.”
* * *
“He just canceled on you?” Courtney is at the table playing Uno with Ollie as I wrestle my massage table through the door.
“He said some work thing came up, and he’d have to reschedule.” My chest is heavy, and I don’t say out loud how much I needed that paycheck.
Now I’m really broke, and I promised Court I’d help put a deposit on a new place.
“Sorry I didn’t get the pizza. We could still watch Unsolved Mysteries if you want? Or a nature show… I’ll make mac and cheese!”
Oliver goes out with a Wild Draw 4 card, and Courtney hops up with a smile. “Nope—we’re getting sushi!”
“Sushi!” Ollie jumps out of the chair and does a little sumo dance. “Sushi! Sushi! Sushi!”
“Are you sure?” My forehead crinkles. “I’m going to be short now that Mystery Client canceled.”
“I have a coupon for Sakitumi—dinner’s on me!”
“Grab the keys. I’ll order while you drive.”
We pile into my ancient Dodge mini-van and head for Sakitumi. “Best sushi in the Soda City,” I cry, and Ollie cheers from the back seat.
We’re heading down I-20, and my feet are propped on the passenger’s side dash as I enter Court’s credit card info. “Do y
ou think I should get credit cards up front and threaten to charge a cancellation fee if they don’t give 24 hours’ notice?”
“Nope. I think you should come and work with me at Palmetto and not worry about it!”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I got the job?”
“You got an interview, but of course they’re going to hire you. He’ll take one look at your résumé and give you the job. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super friendly and likable.”
“Tell me more…” I put my hand on my chest, fluttering my eyelids.
Courtney is turning the dial on the radio. “This old thing doesn’t even have Bluetooth,” she complains.
“Don’t hate on Betsy. She gets me where I need to go with my massage chair intact.”
“Good ole Betsy!” Oliver calls from the back. “This is Betsy, Chartreuse!”
“Ollie! You did not bring that frog!” I wail. “Do not—”
“I know, do not let her go in my van.” He imitates my voice pretty well, I have to hand it to him.
His mother finally lands on a classic rock station playing Shania Twain, and we start belting out all the words to “That Don’t Impress Me Much.”
Ollie groans, pushing his head against the seat.
We head into The Vista, and I chew my lip, remembering the last time I was here with Spencer. All the feelings from our meeting at Nightcaps try to bubble up, but I push them right back down with a variation on Shania. “Okay, so you’re a billionaire…”
Courtney pulls the minivan into one of the designated take-out spaces, and I turn the radio softer.
“You know, Ollie, you’re a pretty cool kid to like sushi so much.” I lift my head to meet his eyes in the mirror.
“California roll!” he cries.
“And edamame… and miso… and…” My eyes flicker across the street to the steak restaurant Rioz. “Mother of pearl!”
“What’s that?” Ollie’s nose curls. “Mother of pearl roll…”
Courtney frowns, squinting at the windshield. “What is it?”
The restaurant has a small, outdoor seating area, and big as day, sitting at a table is Spencer, right across from a woman with flowing dark brown hair. Her back is to me, but her legs are crossed. She’s in a short dress, and it shows off her shapely calves.
“That flipping…”
I don’t swear in front of Ollie, and Courtney cranes her neck, searching everywhere to see where I’m looking.
A pimply teenage guy taps on her window, and I snatch up my phone. Having a nice Friday? My eyes are glued to him, waiting to see if he’ll pick up his phone, if he’ll respond or ignore me…
I watch his eyes slide down. He nods to his date, smiling as he picks up his phone, then does a little wave and taps on the device.
Fury is blazing in my throat, and I’m already working on my reply. It’s a beautiful night. Relaxing at my favorite place. You?
I hope you step on a Lego. I hit send.
It doesn’t take long for him to reply. Excuse me?
My fingers are flying. I hope the worst day of your past is the best day of your future.
I can barely read his reply for the anger burning in my eyes. Is that a curse?
I hope everyone you shake hands with has moist hands.
Courtney cuts me a look as she pulls the minivan onto the street. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
I am not okay. I am not okay at all.
My fingers are flying. I hope you get an eyelash in your eye and you can never get it out. I hope every time you use hand sanitizer you have a paper cut. I hope every time the waiter walks by, it’s with someone else’s food.
Where are you?
I throw my phone in my bag, and it’s the stupidest thing ever, but I start to cry.
Chapter 20
Spencer
Where are you? I hit send on the quick text then stand, looking all around the outdoor dining area.
“What’s happening?” The woman across from me grips the table.
At that second, I spot the ancient, frosted baby blue minivan pulling away from the sushi restaurant across the street. It’s moving fast in a northerly direction, and I have no idea where she’s going.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.” Digging in my pants, I pull out my wallet and drop more than enough cash on the table before stepping over the wrought-iron fence surrounding the outdoor seating area at Rioz, my favorite steakhouse.
She’s costing me yet another prime rib.
“Excuse me, sir! You can’t do that.” I hear the waiter calling from behind me, but I don’t stop.
Looking left to right, I jaywalk as fast as possible across the street. An oncoming car honks loudly, and I flip the bird before dashing up to the takeout area of Sakitumi.
Catching the pimple-faced curbside waiter by the shoulder, I pull him to me. “I need to see the receipt for that last order—the blue minivan? I believe it’s that one in your hand.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do that. Privacy laws, and all—”
“How much?” My wallet is still in my hand, and I start pulling out bills.
His eyes widen when I get to eighty. “The name is either Joselyn or Courtney…”
The kid hesitates, frowning at the flimsy scrap of paper. “Why do you want to know?”
I’m tempted to snatch it from him. Instead, I exhale slowly and force what I hope is a friendly smile. “I found her credit card, and I don’t know how to get in touch with her.”
The guy studies me, and I know he’s not believing my lie. “Which one? Courtney or Joselyn?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I snatch the receipt out of his loosened grip, scanning it quickly.
“Hey!” He reaches for it, and I push it back at his chest along with the four twenties.
I’ve got what I need. “Sorry for your trouble.”
I’m in my black Tesla speeding northeast towards Belmont when my phone vibrates again. Glancing at the face, I cringe. It’s from Heather, and after the conversation we had earlier, I’m never going to live this down.
I pass a Piggly Wiggly and a liquor store before turning into a run-down apartment complex with a broken street light. Double-checking my phone, this is the address listed for Courtney’s name.
A dented El Camino is in one of the spaces, and there it is, a few spots down, the old blue minivan. At least her vehicle fits in here.
The apartment building is only two floors, and it reminds me of an old beach motel rather than a place you’d live full-time. Glancing around as I tap my key fob, I notice a guy in a hoodie disappear around the corner.
I don’t like this one bit.
Jogging up the steps, I make my way down to the correct number and knock forcefully. “It’s me, Joselyn. Open the door.”
Muffled voices come from the other side, and I hear what sounds like shushing noises. The door opens a crack, and it’s her.
“What are you doing here? How did you get this address?” She has her chin up, but she won’t meet my eyes.
“Get out here.” I push the door open and catch her wrist, dragging her outside and pulling the door shut before I press her back against it.
“Oh! Stop this…. What are you doing?”
She’s caged in my arms, and my heart’s beating fast. I’ve wanted to have her body pressed against mine for a week. “Why are you following me?” My voice is thick, as desperate as I feel.
I look down at her, and we’re both breathing fast. Her red lips remind me of a goldfish, puckered and full, and I want to smear that lipstick all over her face. Her hair is pulled back in another heavy ponytail with a few strands hanging around her cheeks. I want to wrap it in my fist.
“I’m not following you. I went with Courtney and Oliver to get sushi. You’re interrupting our dinner.” She struggles as if she’s going to get away, but I hold her still.
“I’m interrupting your dinner.” I exhale a laugh.
My thumbs are under her jaw, and I lift her face
to mine. Her eyes are still averted, but I run my nose along her cheek as I speak, noting the uptick in her breathing, the slip of her tongue peeking out to wet her full bottom lip.
“Why all the texts, then? You said to keep my hands to myself. You said we were done.”
Blue eyes flicker to mine, and I see the fire now. “So you went right out and found a new random hookup.”
She’s so sure of herself. I lift my chin, admiring her eyes. They say cold heat burns the hottest, and it’s possible I could melt in her gaze. I wasn’t lying when I said I might like it.
Leaning closer, I brush my lips over hers, light as a feather. She exhales a little noise, and my cock is awake. My whole body is awake. I want to be inside her. I want to lift her leg and take her right here against this door.
“Will you let me kiss you now?”
She blinks twice, and strain tightens her gaze. Come on, Sin. Say yes…
Her jaw clenches, and she bites out her reply. “No.”
For the space of a breath, it’s silent, no sound.
She said no.
Exhaling a chuckle, I step back, releasing her as the spell is broken. God, this woman.
“That was no random. I was having dinner with Heather. You remember Heather Olsen? You met her and her husband Jim at the gala. Grafton is giving us an exclusive on the prize selections from their summer auction. She’ll be taking them to Daisy’s store in the morning.” Turning away, I rub my hand across the back of my neck. “We were hungry.”
Joselyn hasn’t moved from where I had her pinned against the door. Her chin is still lowered, and her eyes are still focused on the parking lot below.
Still, her breasts, those luscious breasts, rise and fall rapidly beneath her long-sleeved black tunic. She’s as affected as I am.
“I guess I overreacted.” It’s a quiet admission. “I’m sorry.”
Placing a hand on the metal balcony rail, I look up at the night sky. A smattering of stars is spread across black velvet, and it feels like something important is happening.
“You hoped the worst day of my past was the best day of my future.” The creativity of it makes me smile.