Sleep evades me all week. I just stare at the ceiling, my brain spinning. When I finally fall asleep, I’m plagued with nightmares. Ari is trapped in a pit of snakes. Or her plane crashed and she’s trapped on a deserted island. Or worse, floating around the ocean on a life raft. Surrounded by sharks that can fly. That last one might be the result of falling asleep to lame, late-night horror movies but still.
Thursday morning, I’m trapped in the worst dream. Ari’s stuck in a burning building. Searching room by room, I can hear her screams, but I can’t find her. Beams fall around me as flames lick my exposed skin. With each passing moment, the flames get higher. and the smoke becomes so dense I can hardly see. She calls to me, but floor after floor, I can’t find her. Finally, I find her. Beams and pieces of ceiling come crashing down as I pull her in to my arms.
She looks at me and says, “You changed the locks? How could you?”
But it’s not her voice. It’s Jenna’s.
An alarm must be going off somewhere because there’s a strange dinging echoing all around us.
“Chase Brennan, you open this door right this instant.”
My eyes pop open, but the dinging continues.
“Chase! Open this door!”
Jenna.
I close my eyes, hoping she’ll go away, but she switches from the doorbell to the car horn. Carmen warned me she might reach out to me. Apparently she was served with the papers last night and didn’t take it well. I glance at the clock. She made it all the way to seven in the morning before hunting me down. I suppose I should be impressed. I half expected her last night.
I reach for the phone and dial the number for the guard tower. “Hi, this is Chase Brennan at 18376 Coastline. I have an uninvited guest on my property who’s causing a disturbance. She’s not a threat, but she’s also unwelcome. I’d rather not get the police involved if I don’t have to. Could you please come and escort her out of the neighborhood?”
“Right away, sir,” the guard replies.
I feel like a pussy making them deal with Jenna for me, but Carmen said she’d start cutting off my appendages if I said one word to her or her parents. I suppose this is what I pay for, so I might as well let them do their job. Shielded by the curtains, I watch the spectacle from my bedroom. I have to make sure to give these guys a good Christmas bonus. She screams, cries, and throws not one but both shoes at my house. The sidewalk is lined with early morning dog walkers, stroller pushers, and neighbors who don’t even bother trying to disguise their nosiness.
The guards’ presence only makes Jenna more irate. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s come completely unhinged. Her screams are so shrill I have trouble making out what she’s saying, but it sounds like a long list of insults. I occasionally catch, “Rent-a-cop,” “You have no authority,” and repeatedly , “This is my house.” Every time Jenna steps toward the house, one of the guards stands in her way.
She waves her cell phone in the air. “Fine. I’ll just call the real police, and they’ll let me into my house.”
Five minutes later, two cruisers pulls up, and Jenna quickly learns she won’t find a friend in the police. One of the officers comes to the door while Jenna screams at the other. I pull on a pair of pants and a T-shirt and jog downstairs.
“Morning, Officer,” I say as I open the door.
“Chase, honey, you are home!” Jenna screams then runs toward the door. “Why didn’t you let me in, baby?”
The other officer blocks her path, and she slaps him. Hard, by the sound of it. The officer pulls out his handcuffs and tells Jenna she’s under arrest. She tries to slap him a second time, but he catches her hand and puts her in a restraining hold. The officers from the other squad car step out and cross the lawn to back up the officer trying to arrest Jenna.
The officer takes off his hat. “Morning, sir. I’m Officer Scott. Are you the owner of this residence?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
He looks over his shoulder at the other officer restraining a still-fighting Jenna then pulls out his notebook. “Are you aware of what’s going on here?”
“The three-ring circus? Yes, I’m aware.” I glance at my neighbors holding their cell phones, recording the officer putting Jenna in the back of the cop car. “I give it an hour before the rest of the world does too.”
He points at Jenna. “Do you know this woman?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Yup. She’s my ex-fiancée. Emphasis on the ex. I have a restraining order filed against her.”
He takes notes while I give him a brief rundown of how things have played out this morning.
He looks up from his pad. “She claims this is her residence.”
I shake my head. “No, sir. She doesn’t even have a toothbrush here.”
He flips the lid closed on his notebook. “Well, we’re bringing her down to the station since she’s just assaulted an officer. Do you want to press additional charges?”
I shake my head. “No. If you could just get her out of here, I’d really appreciate it.”
“We’ll be out of here soon.” He goes back to his car and types on his laptop while his partner talks to the security guards. Thirty minutes later, Officer Scott returns to my door. “We’re all set here. We saw her car is registered to you. Do you want it left here or towed down to impound?”
“Just leave it here. It was supposed to be returned to the dealership weeks ago.”
He gestures to the lawn. “My partner threw the keys in the grass when she tried to stab him with them.”
I can’t help but smirk. “I’ll find them. Thanks, Officer.”
He hands me his card. “Call me if you have any questions or if you have any further problems.”
“Thanks for coming down,” I say as I close the door. This week just keeps on getting better and better.
A few hours later, video of Jenna’s breakdown is all over the internet. Paparazzi start to swarm, so I pack a bag and drive to Mom and Pop’s. It’s fundraiser central there. Mom and Charlie are deep in coordinating the food donation and the fundraising event planning. Pop’s been basically living at the office as he’s frantically trying to get everything together for the Giants before pitchers and catchers report for spring training in a week, but Mom’s convinced he’s hiding out to avoid all the chaos. Things are pretty tense between the two of them. I sure wish I had an office to hide in. I don’t even have Spencer to back me up. He flew out on Monday to Kuala Lumpur. Apparently there’s some emergency on the Malaysian Stock Exchange.
Being the sole man available to answer questions about favors and cocktail napkins is rough. Whichever answer I give is always wrong. I don’t know why they bother asking me if they already know which one they want to go with! This is the kind of shit that sent my relationship with Jenna into a tailspin. If she hadn’t been so over the top about having the perfect fairytale wedding, we probably would have gotten married soon after I proposed. Just thinking about being married to Jenna makes me nauseated. Being trapped in a marriage with her and missing my chance with Ari—what a fucking nightmare.
Saturday night rolls around, and I have no desire to go to the damn party. I’d rather push thumb tacks into my eyes than plaster on another fake smile and make superficial small talk. But with all the work Mom and Charlie put into it, I have to go. Charlie thinks I can make an appearance for an hour or so then I can take off.
Thank God for the open bar. Top shelf, of course. Far be it from Jenna to skimp on anything. Thankfully, she hasn’t made any additional appearances—that I know of anyway. She’s called a million times, but I’ve ignored them all. Carmen assures me she’s spoken with Donald and he’s given his word he’ll keep her under lock and key until next week, when we’re all supposed to sit down to discuss a resolution. Considering he gave his word that he would handle the wedding fiasco before it got out of hand, his word is about as valuable as my Barry Bonds baseball cards.
Chapter Thirteen
Arianna
Y
ou know you smell bad when the guy sitting next to you offers a hundred bucks to anyone who will switch seats with him and no one takes him up on it. Once they turn the fasten seatbelt sign off, I go to the bathroom and attempt to take a sink bath. It isn’t easy with the tiny sink and only getting a few seconds of water at a time, but it’s better than nothing. The other passengers stare and make comments. I could tell them what I’ve been through over the past week. That would certainly switch their revulsion to sympathy and, if I were lucky, they’d stop staring, but for the first time in my life, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All I care about is getting home. To a shower, a mattress, and Chase. Not necessarily in that order. Well, maybe in that order.
One of the flight attendants is kind enough to loan me a change of clothes. I can’t tell if she’s just being kind or if she’s trying to ease the unrest of the rest of the passengers¸ but I make a mental note of her name so that I can remember to send her something.
Twenty-seven hours and four flights later, I’m home. After fighting my way off the jam-packed plane, I’m relieved to find the line at customs isn’t too bad. While I’m waiting in line, I catch a glimpse of the newsstand. Chase is on the cover of everything, holding up the Lombardi trophy. A proud smile spreads across my face. He did it. Daddy, wherever he is, must be thrilled. As happy as I am for him, I’m disappointed I missed it. From this day forward, I’ll be in the stands, cheering for him every step of the way.
Once I make it through customs, I bolt to the cab stand. I hop in the first cab I find and, without giving it a second thought, give him Daddy’s address. Going to my condo or Chase’s or Charlie’s would have been smarter, but I said Daddy’s. A voice in my brain tells me this isn’t a wise idea, but I don’t say anything to the driver. I just let him keep driving. The closer we get, the harder it hits me. Daddy isn’t there waiting for me, and he won’t be coming home. Sadness threatens to seep in. I’m not ready for this.
“Can you pull in here instead?” I point at the Brennans’ house.
The cab pulls in, and I swipe my credit card. The cab driver starts to drive away before I close the door. That’s probably the first time in history someone’s body odor has been worse than his. I jog up to the door and ring the doorbell. Please be home. Please be home. After five minutes and pushing the button eight million times, I search for the hide-a-key. I know it’s hidden somewhere amidst the shrubbery, so I pick up rock after rock, looking for the one with the secret compartment.
“I don’t know who you are, but you’ve got ten seconds to get off my property. Security’s on its way.”
I laugh then point at the security sign. “We both know there aren’t any security guys coming. Acme Security is just a ruse.”
Pat squints at me. “Arianna?”
I smile as I climb out of the bushes. “Hey, Pat.”
He offers me his hand to help me out of the flower bed. “Baby girl, where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you!” He looks me up and down. “What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story. For some reason, I came here instead of my condo.” I glance toward Daddy’s house. “But I’m not ready to go home yet. So I came here. I really, really need a shower. Can I use your guest bathroom?”
He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me inside the house. “Yes, of course. Shower then get ready. I’m taking you to this fundraiser the girls have been working on, and you’re going to be my get-out-of-jail-free card. Katie has been pissed at me for days, and I’m two hours late. She’ll have my head. But if I show up with you… well, I’ll be a hero, and I’ll be off the couch.”
Shaking my head, I kick off my fifthly shoes and leave them on the rug by the front door. “Pat, I’ve barely slept in a week. I have an inch of sludge on me. I’m not going to a fundraiser.”
“Think of it as one of those mud baths you and the girls go to. Go expunge or extradite or excommunicate.” He stares at me as though I’m supposed to know what he talking about.
“Exfoliate?”
He points at me. “That’s the ticket. Go do that, and we’ll go. On the way there, you can tell me where you disappeared to for the last few weeks.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “I’m so damn tired. I don’t know how I’m still standing. I can’t go to a fundraiser.”
He steps back and waves his hand in front of his face. “Okay, Stinky McSmellerson, let’s get you into the shower, and we can discuss what to do after that.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the stairs. “Go on. Take all the time you need. I’ve got a mountain of work to do. The more I can sneak in before I have to go to this thing, the less I’ll be trying to sneak in on my phone, hoping Katie doesn’t catch me. I’m in real hot water with her lately with how much I’ve been working.”
The shower is heavenly. I’ve never been so appreciative of running water in my life. I think Charlie’s been staying here because the bathroom is stocked with Laura Mercier products. They’re luxurious, but I would have been happy with a bar of Ivory soap and a Brillo pad at this point. I’m dirty and furry and my hair feels as if it’s been soaking in baby oil. Mud is caked on me in places mud should never be, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get the gunk out from under my nails. I scrub and loofa and sponge and shave and eventually start to feel human again.
Once I get out of the shower, I realize I have nothing to change into. Charlie’s robe on the door is still wet, so I wrap a towel around myself and sneak into Chase’s room. I find the plaid flannel robe he still keeps hanging on the back of his door, and Armani Code wafts through my nose when I put the robe on. I pull the lapels to my nose and take a deep breath then sigh. I miss him.
“Pat,” I call downstairs, “tell me more about this party.”
He jogs from his office to the bottom of the stairs. “Atta girl.” He snaps his fingers, shimmies his shoulders, and shakes his behind. “Gonna get out of the dog house. Gonna get out of the dog house,” he sings as he does his little dance.
Thank God Chase got Katie’s dancing skills because this man can’t dance. “Settle down there, Dancing with the Stars.” I lean against the banister. “All of my clothes for this sort of thing are at my condo. We’ll have to go there for me to get ready. By the time we do that, we’ll have missed the whole thing.”
He stops dancing and looks at me. “Borrow something of Charlotte’s. Her room looks like a dress bomb detonated in there. There must be something you can throw on. I promise you, once everyone sees you, no one’ll care what you’re wearing. ”
I tap my hand on the railing. “I’ll see what she has. Give me thirty minutes.”
Walking into Charlie’s room, I see that Pat was right. There are a million dresses in here, and as it turns out, more than half of them are mine. I really have to remember to change my locks. I pull out a silver sequined Michael Kors sheath dress that I know is from my closet and some Giuseppe Zanotti peep-toes. Charlie and I have completely different coloring, so her makeup is minimal help, but after being in the sun for two weeks, I’m so tan all I need is a little mascara and lip gloss. Too tired to care and too excited to see Chase, I let my hair air dry and let the curls take over. I smile as I crunch the curls. Chase always liked it curly.
Taking one last look at myself, I see a giggly, smitten woman and roll my eyes. Jesus, I’m acting like a teenage girl. I didn’t get giddy and giggly when I was a teenage girl. What’s wrong with me? I think that’s a sign it’s time to go.
“All right, Pat,” I say as I come down the stairs. “Let’s go get your ass out of a sling.”
He smiles when he sees me. “You clean up good, kid.” He kisses the top of my head as we walk to the garage. “And you don’t smell like a jock strap at the end of a long season anymore. That’s always a plus.”
I elbow him in the gut. “You’re going to feel real bad when you hear what I’ve been through.”
On the ride there, I tell him all about Africa, and he tells me about the Super Bowl and J
enna’s crazy antics.
“So we’re going to Chase’s wedding?” I say, trying to contain my laughter. “This ought to be interesting.”
We pull up to the enormous stone mansion that acts as the main building of the Harlan Family Estate Vineyard. I came here once, years ago, for a private tasting. If my memory serves, this place doesn’t open its door for less than a hundred grand. And that’s just for a wine-tasting cocktail hour. For a wedding… I can’t imagine what they charge. When your cheapest wine is over eight hundred dollars a bottle, you don’t need to bother yourself with annoyances like renting out your estate unless they really make it worth your while.
I let out a low whistle. “Jenna wasn’t messing around. This place is pricey.” I crinkle my nose. “And not at all Chase. I can’t see him going for this. He’s always been like me when it comes to wine—all swirl and little sip. I would have thought he would have preferred something more… fun. A little whimsical.”
Pat shrugs. “Had Chase had a say in it, this whole catastrophe would never have happened to begin with. But thankfully, Katie has transformed this wedding disaster into a swanky shindig with all of the money going to your father’s foundation. How’s that for irony? I bet it really chaps Jenna’s hide.” He extends his hand. “I bet you twenty bucks Jenna shows up here and stirs up some trouble.”
I shake my head. “I’m not touching that one. I only met her in passing. I don’t know enough about her to guess either way, but for her sake, I hope not. People aren’t quick to forget pubic displays of desperation. Obviously I haven’t seen the video of her at Chase’s house, but from the sound of it, it’s the sort of thing that turns you into a punchline. I’d hate for that to happen to her.”
Love To Hate You Page 12