Pretty Dirty Trick

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Pretty Dirty Trick Page 72

by Tabatha Kiss


  It’s over.

  I ignore the knocking on my door. It grows louder and faster. If I sit here on my couch without making any noise, eventually they’ll leave me alone.

  “Phoebe!”

  I pull my blanket over my head. More knocking. More ignoring as the sick takes over my stomach.

  “Pheebs, we know you’re in there,” Thad says, his voice muffled. “We could see your light on outside.”

  I sit up. Dammit. Still not a compelling enough reason to make myself known yet.

  “Phoebe, come on. What did we do?”

  A spark of rage buried deep inside spreads to my brain.

  What did they do?

  What did they do?

  I bolt off the couch and beeline to the door, throwing it open so fast they both leap back in surprise. “What did you do?” I repeat.

  Max glances at Thad in confusion. “Yeah,” he says. “You just left without saying a word.”

  “And you didn’t answer your phone,” Thad adds. “Scared the hell out of us.”

  “What happened?”

  “Gee, I don’t know…” I force the lump in my throat down. I’m not ready to break yet. “I just gave you the old Belle and Switch, whatever the hell that is.” Their faces fall. “Does that ring a Belle? Seems clear as a Belle to me. And… I’m too fucking angry to think of more Belle puns right now.”

  “Who told you about that?” Thad asks.

  “Not you and that’s more or less the point.”

  Max creases his brow. “Phoebe, let us explain—”

  “Explain? You’re gonna explain how you slept with me because you lost a bet?”

  “That’s…” he pauses, “that’s not the whole truth.”

  “But it’s part of it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing, Max. You humiliated me.” I flex my jaw. “God, I feel disgusting…”

  “We didn’t do it to humiliate you, Pheebs,” Thad says. “It was supposed to humiliate us.”

  A tear slips down my cheek. “Wow. So, having sex with me was humiliating? Cool.”

  He winces, once again choking on the foot in his mouth. Can’t believe I thought that was cute before. “I didn’t mean it like that way—”

  “You lost and I was your punishment,” I say over him. “What other way is there to say that?”

  They fall quiet while they try and piece together another bullshit excuse — one that I honestly can’t deal with right now.

  “I’m done,” I say. “We’re done.”

  “Wait, Phoebe—”

  The two of them push forward into the door frame, bumping shoulders, but I stand my ground.

  “No.” I bite my trembling lip. “I can’t even think about that night anymore without feeling nauseous.”

  “Give us ten minutes,” Max begs. “You have every right to be pissed but you don’t have the whole story.”

  “He’s right,” Thad says. “Please, Pheebs.”

  “Okay,” I nod, “here’s my question. Would you have told me what really happened? Ever?”

  They exhale, saying nothing.

  My chest aches as tears start falling. “That’s what I thought,” I say.

  Max blocks the door with his foot. “Let’s just… We can work this out—”

  “How about we just cut out the middle woman and the two of you go home and fuck each other?” I spit. “There. All worked out.”

  Thad lays his hand on the door, ready to argue and fight me but I speak before he does.

  “I trusted you,” I tell him.

  His mouth opens but no words come out. He recoils back as if I stabbed him in the chest. At least he knows how that feels now.

  I move to close the door again.

  Max leans in. “Wait, Phoebe—”

  “Max…” Thad grabs his arm, his eyes far away from me. “Let her go. Come on.”

  He pulls him back and I slam the door as soon as they clear the frame.

  I linger with my forehead pressed to the door. I don’t look through the peephole. If I do, I might see them and melt under their eyes. There’s a piece of me that still just wants to invite them in and forget everything ever happened but I can’t do that. I can’t bring myself to do anything but collapse onto my couch with a blanket and shut out the world.

  To growing up, my ass.

  * * *

  “Phoebe?”

  I open my eyes and glance at my office door. “What?” I ask.

  Jackie pushes her head in a little more. “Mr. Fellows just arrived,” she says. “He and Bradley are setting up in the conference room. I told them I’d come fetch you.”

  Is it time already? Guess so.

  “Okay,” I say.

  She steps in with a coffee mug in her hands and closes the door behind her, staring down at me with soft, careful eyes. “Are you all right?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? Because the staff has officially appointed me to venture in here and make sure you’re not dead.”

  “Not dead,” I say. “All good.”

  “Phoebe, you’ve been sprawled out on that couch for almost three hours.”

  “So?”

  She sets the mug down on my desk and leans over to nudge my knee. “What’s going on?”

  I force myself to sit up and she plops down beside me. I’m not ready to talk about any of this yet but Jackie’s not going to take that for an answer right now.

  “I broke up with the guys last night.”

  She blinks. “Both of them?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’d they do?”

  I force the lump down my throat. “We went out last night, the three of us together, and I ran into Sally Sweet.”

  Her eyes roll. “That girl still exists?”

  “She told me that Max and Thad lost a bet at the reunion.”

  “What kind of bet?”

  “The kind where the winner got to take home Sally and the losers…” I gesture at myself.

  Her mouth sags. “No.”

  “Yes.” I stare at the floor. “I was just… the thing they had to do to make good on a bet.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “They admitted to it.”

  “Those motherfuckers,” she spits. “I feel genuine wrath right now.”

  “Yeah, I got that out of my system already and I skipped right over bargaining, too. This…” I point at my face, “this is depression.”

  “Wait, wait, wait…” She twists toward me. “Why would they still be dating you if it was just a one-time bet?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. The best I can come up with is that this whole thing has been some kind of extended challenge or some 3D chess torture game or something. I just feel so stupid. Their performances were top-freaking-notch.”

  “Or they both really like you and they wanted to keep seeing you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious,” she argues. “You’re an awesome person. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if—”

  “Stop, Jackie.” I wipe away a tear before it falls. “I knew better from the start. No one really changes. People don’t grow up. Our hopes and dreams just get repressed to the point of total submission while people like them rule over us like gods.”

  “Okay…” She shakes her head. “I don’t like this. You’re starting to sound like me.”

  “Good. Because you were right. Falling for two men never ends well — and that’s without them being total sociopaths.”

  “Occam’s Razor.”

  I furrow my brow. “What?”

  “The simplest explanation is usually the most likely explanation,” she says. “Do you really think these guys would go through this much trouble just to fuck with you?”

  “Yes.”

  She tilts her head with annoyance. “Well, I don’t. You should talk to them again before drawing conclusions.”

  “No, I can’t see them anymore. Either of them. It’s over.”

&nbs
p; “Phoebe…”

  “What?”

  She wraps her arms around me, saying nothing while she gently rocks back and forth a little. It’s comforting, I suppose. Not nearly as satisfying as chucking a chair out the window like I want to.

  “I thought they were different,” I say.

  “Said every scorned woman ever,” she quips. “You’ll pull through.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” She leans over and grabs my coffee mug off the desk. “Here. Refuel. You have a meeting to get to.”

  I take hold of it and drink a long, hot sip. It burns on its way down but I barely feel it through the numb, aching horribleness festering in me.

  Jackie sighs. “Everything is going to be fine, Phoebe.”

  “How do you know?”

  “First of all, you just spent the last few weeks fixing a book we both agreed was beyond repair into something workable and that’s pretty badass. Second, that book is about to earn you an amazing new office with a damn fine view. And third, give me your coffee.”

  I hand it over without thinking and she sets it down by her feet. “I just wish I could go back and—”

  She slaps me and the force of it sends me back into the soft cushions.

  “Jackie, dammit.” I wince as pain fires down my shoulder. “Why do I always fall for that?”

  “Seriously. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

  I rub my cheek. “Ow…”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “So, I’m a boss-ass bitch?” I ask.

  “You’re damn right you are,” she says. “You’re Phoebe Pink. You’re my hero.”

  I scoff. “How am I your hero?”

  “You got fucked repeatedly by two hot pieces of man-meat. Ruse or not, you’re my fucking idol.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Shitty outcome aside. You have to admit how amazing you are. If you ask me, I think those guys really did fall for you. Some people go their whole lives waiting for someone to fall in love with them. You got two in one week.”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  She rattles my shoulders. “Now, shake it off. The boss-ass bitch has a meeting and the boss-ass bitch is gonna own it.”

  I sit up tall, filling my lungs to the top with one, long breath.

  I’m a boss-ass bitch.

  “Here we go…” I say.

  Thirty-Three

  Max

  My phone buzzes on my bedside table. I ignore it. Again. I have a good idea of who it is and I don’t care.

  Because it’s not Phoebe.

  She wouldn’t answer my calls last night — or Thad’s — and I doubt she’d be calling us back right now. I wouldn’t blame her if she never did again, to be honest.

  My bedroom door launches open and slams against the wall. Thad steps in dressed in a suit, showered, and shaved, with that red checkerboard tie hanging around his neck.

  “Get up,” he says, quickly flipping a Windsor knot. “Let’s go get our woman.”

  I don’t move. “Not a good idea, Thad.”

  He walks to my closet and throws it open. “Suit. Tie. Shoes. Underwear recommended, but ultimately, optional.”

  “Thad…”

  “I figure we can corner her in her office,” he says, ignoring me. “You tell her what you told me after the reunion. That you thought she’d changed and that you liked how the kiss meant something to her. She’ll like that. Then, I’ll come in with how my fingers turned numb after our first kiss.”

  “Thad.”

  “That really happened, by the way. Thought I was having a stroke.”

  I force myself to sit up. “What are you doing?”

  He yanks out the first suit he sees and drops it on my bed. “Get up,” he says.

  I look at him and the hard crease of his brow. “She’s gone, man,” I say.

  “No, she’s not. She’s a few miles down the road. Let’s go.”

  “You heard her last night.”

  “She was angry. It’s been…” he checks his watch, “about fifteen hours. That’s plenty of time to cool off and think things over and I told her I loved her yesterday.”

  I blink. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  He rolls his eyes. “It’s not a competition, man. And, also, because I do. I looked at her and I saw how happy she was with me — and with you — and I loved us.” He sits down on the bed with his eyes on the floor. “She didn’t say it back but that didn’t matter. I just had to say it to get to where I am right now.”

  I nod slowly. “And where’s that?”

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small notepad. “We only get one life, Maximillian. One shot to get it right. By some miracle, we both got a chance at redemption and we blew it. For fifteen hours. I won’t go another one without her in my arms and neither should you.”

  He tears out a page and lays it down on the bed between us.

  “Now, get up,” he says again.

  He stands and walks out without another word. I stop and stare at the piece of paper a foot away from me as I listen to his feet move through my condo.

  Redemption. That’s what this was always about, wasn’t it? I’ve tried for a long time to earn that in many ways but it always slips free of my grasp at the last possible second. I keep trying, working a little harder to outrun the shadows looming above. Maybe that’s the problem. Do you hide from the shadow or do you turn around and face the wall? Earning redemption might not be enough. I should reach out and take it.

  I pick up the paper and turn it over, finding a few handwritten lines on it.

  Way up there or way down here

  The sky never—

  A knock hits my front door. I hop off the bed as fast as I can and rush into the living room. Thad looks at me as hopeful as I feel.

  Phoebe?

  I throw the door open. My father stands there, tall and angry as usual.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Max?”

  “I—”

  He pushes past me into the room and I cringe as David follows him inside. I close the door and turn to see him leering at Thad.

  Thad flashes him a classic no-fucks-given smile. “What’s up, Keith?” he greets.

  Dad ignores him but David offers a friendly head nod.

  “You’ve missed two meetings this morning, one of which required a presentation from you directly. What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks again.

  “I took a sick day,” I say.

  “Are you violently ill?”

  I bite my inner cheek as Thad looks to the floor. “No,” I answer.

  “Physically incapacitated?”

  “No. I had a personal matter I needed to take care of.”

  “So, not a sick day, then?”

  “Dad…” I glance around from his irate eyes to David’s smug smirk and Thad’s confidence. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “I’m not going to bother asking what’s more important than doing your job because, quite frankly, I don’t care. You haven’t earned any sick days, Max. You’re slacking off. You completely blew a deposition. And now I come in here at noon on a Thursday and find you dicking around with this little shit.”

  Thad raises a finger. “I’m actually not a little shit anymore. I’m a full-grown man shit. Kind of like how you’re not a little asshole anymore. You’re a giant, gaping asshole. Funny how that works out.”

  I hold back my grin. “Thad…”

  “Just sayin’. Ten years makes a difference.”

  Dad takes a step toward me, somehow ignoring Thad, but he can’t hide the red in his face. “Get to the office. Now,” he growls.

  I stand a little taller, feeling the breaking point snap in my head. We only get one life. One shot to get it right.

  I’m not hiding behind tomorrow anymore.

  “No,” I say.

  Dad pauses his stride to the door and spins back around to fa
ce me. “No?”

  “No.” I shrug. “I quit.”

  “You quit?”

  I glance at Thad’s proud face. “Yeah, I quit.”

  “You can’t quit, Max.”

  “I just did, Dad.”

  “Without me, you’re nothing.”

  I squint. “No, I’m pretty sure without you, I’m exactly who I want to be. I’ll send Erica my letter of resignation later today.”

  “Like hell, you will.” He takes a step closer. “This is unacceptable.”

  “Officially not my problem anymore.”

  “You can’t speak to me like this. I am your father and as long as you bear my name, you will do as I tell you to do!”

  I feel the weight of his words build on my shoulders… and promptly slide right back off again.

  I laugh. It starts low in my gut, churning slowly until it finally explodes from my throat. I laugh until my chest aches and my face burns. Thad manages better than I, softly shaking with one hand latched over his mouth.

  My father stares at me with wide eyes. “What about this is funny to you?” he seethes.

  I wipe my eyes and take a smooth, calming breath. “Fuck off, Dad,” I say.

  I shock myself as much as him but I’ve never felt freer in my whole life.

  His jaw drops and I smile, listening to Thad’s low chuckle across the room. He twists to the door and marches out into the hallway, leaving David and his shocked, pale face behind.

  I step toward him and sigh the last bit of laughter from my chest. “He’s all yours now, asshole.” I roll my fist. “Also…”

  I punch him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He bends forward onto his knees and I take a step back.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” I say, flexing my fingers.

  He wheezes, trying to speak, but it all comes out a continuous, jolting cough.

  Thad walks over and helps him up with a wide, devious smile. “Come on, buddy…”

  “Screw you, Max.”

  “It’s all right…” Thad pats his back and opens the door. “Walk it off.”

 

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