Riled Up

by Robin Leaf

  “Okay, Dr. Taylor. After I’m done, I will show you where your things are.”

  He finished quickly and insisted he take the dishes himself. He led her to the stairs and taught her how to lead with her good leg, carefully taking one step at a time. He took her to the same room he had taken her two days before to shower. Gone were all the trampy clothes – not even a price tag left – replaced by her boxes and things.

  “Where are all the other clothes?” Vanessa asked quietly, not wanting to bring up any pain.

  “Well, I decided after you left Tuesday that I really didn’t need to keep them, so I donated them all. I had Javier deliver the appropriate ones to a woman’s shelter, and the rest went to one of those charitable thrift stores.”

  “And you’re okay with this? You said you had complicated reasons for keeping them.”

  Riley smiled knowingly. “You’re fishing again. But actually, I already planned to tell you. I was toying with the idea of pressing charges against the girl who bought them. She,” he made air quotes, “borrowed my credit card when I was out of town for a few days. When I came home early to surprise her and found her riding my pool boy on that very bed,” he nodded his head in the direction of the bed, “I kicked her out and made her leave the clothes here. I never found the receipts. And I didn’t want to risk returning the clothes in fear the stores would leak the story, and it would get all twisted around in the press.

  “She was a textbook gold digger. Looking back, I think I always knew she was. I’m really not sure I even liked her that much. I just liked that she seemed to really like me, or at least she pretended to. Being with her beat being with no one.”

  “So, besides liking you, what did you expect from this woman?”

  “Companionship, someone who was happy to see me. Someone who liked me for me, not my star-status. Someone who doesn’t nitpick. Someone who would sit with me on the couch and watch TV. Someone who would run with me and not worry about her hair or makeup. Someone who was real and genuine.”

  “So you want a puppy? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

  Riley looked stunned. “No, I just want someone who won’t betray me. I think that’s why I hung on to those clothes for so long, a reminder of her betrayal.”

  “Well, there’s that,” Vanessa added, “and by holding on to the clothes, there is a memento of what happened. And you blame yourself for that. You thought she liked you and you were wrong. You felt betrayed, by her, yes, but you think you betrayed yourself more for letting her get close, for letting your guard down. You thought a smart guy like yourself doesn’t get played like that. Those clothes reminded you of what you lost. Not her, but that big chunk of who you thought you were.”

  Riley’s piercing eyes widened. “Jeez Louise, lady, how do you do that?”

  “When it comes to matters of the heart, Mr. Tate, a person cannot find what he seeks when he looks for it out of desperation. A desperate person makes desperate choices. He has to find something when he doesn’t need it so badly that he is willing to settle. Settling never makes anyone happy.”

  “Get that out of a fortune cookie, Dr. Taylor?” He smiled teasingly.

  Vanessa fought the urge to roll her eyes. “My point is that you made a bad choice. Learn from it, but don’t let it completely change who you are.”

  “Well okay then, I think I’ve been psychoanalyzed enough for one morning. Do you need anything before I go, Dr. Taylor?”

  “No, I don’t think. . .”

  “Because if you need any help getting in to the shower or if you want me to stay close in case you need me, I will.”

  Vanessa leveled her gaze at Riley, trying to figure out his angle. The thought of Riley seeing her naked? She was not sure how to respond. You’re thinking too long, Ness. For fuck’s sake, say something.

  Since she didn’t respond, he continued. “Because I can stay in here, just in case, and you can call out if you…”

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” she rushed. Then she softened her tone. “Thank you, though.”

  Riley smiled, turned slowly and left the room, glancing back at her once more before shutting the door behind him.

  Call him back. Tell him you need him. Ugh. Why do you never listen to me?

  She found her iPod, the relic she still had from when she started college, and her portable speaker and plugged both in to the counter in the bathroom. Blaring her music, which she had desperately missed over the last few days, she peeled off her dress and hobbled to the cavernous shower. She would have to keep the singing to a minimum today for fear she might be overheard.

  Carefully, she washed her hair, bathed and shaved her legs, very thankful the architect installed a bench in the shower. She decided to take her time and enjoy the luxury, since this was probably the last time two opposing spray jets would ever be on her at the same time. She reveled in the warmth of the shower, totally emptying her mind of everything but relaxing jets and a Korn song. As she became pruny, she carefully exited and dried off.

  She opted for minimal makeup today, only the essentials – eye liner and mascara. Her specially blended lotion was in order, loving that she finally found the perfect combination of scents at that bath place where you can choose your own blend; she felt this blend fit her personality, spicy and fruity, with vanilla and a hint of jasmine. Tank top and shorts seemed to be in order as well. Minus the sprained ankle, the fading greenish bruise on her forehead and the shiny red, burning gash in her arm, she felt almost like her old self, the pre-doctorate self.

  She quickly took inventory of the things in the room. Some of her boxes were missing, but since they contained heavier items, she decided that Riley probably had them stored downstairs out of sight. He really was thoughtful and a genuinely nice guy for a big Hollywood star.

  Don’t get stupid, Nessa. He will never be interested in someone like me. He goes for the tall, skinny little model-type bitches, not a short girl from Texas who can’t seem to stay upright around him. This is unsalvageable. I really need to get the heck out of here, but something about that man makes me want to stay. Stupid. Save what little face you have left and go.

  One last look in the mirror practicing her brave face, Vanessa headed out of the room. Riley had explained when he showed her how to go up the stairs that she would want to lead with the bad leg going down, still taking one step at a time. Slowly, she made it to the bottom without stumbling or tumbling.

  “Mr. Tate?” she called twice, but she didn’t see him. She heard laughter coming from the deck, so she turned to see outside. What she saw made her sick to her stomach.

  Outside, Riley sat shirtless on the end of the chaise where she had relaxed the night before. Behind him sat a slender red head with a French braid and a bikini top, rubbing sunscreen on his back and shoulders. Upon further examination, the scene was of two people familiar with one another, but it didn’t feel like an intimate exchange. It didn’t stop Vanessa from wanting to snatch that red head bald and force feed the skank her own hair down her laughing throat.

  Whoa, girl. Where did that come from? Get it together, breathe and get out there.

  She took about three (or maybe nine) Zen breaths, steeled her expression and headed out the door. Both outside parties turned when the door opened. The red head jumped up to greet her, towering over her by at least five inches.

  “Hi. You must be Dr. Taylor. I’m Darby. Darby Cheetwood.” She reached out to shake Vanessa’s hand. “I’m Riley’s friend.” And she emphasized the word friend why? “We’ve been friends since we worked together.” She smiled charmingly at Vanessa. “I hear you had an exciting evening. How’s your ankle and your arm?”

  Darby’s genuine smile and comforting demeanor almost made Vanessa feel guilty for wishing to rip out her hair. Almost.

  “Not terrible,” Vanessa answered. “It’s nice to meet you, Darby. Please, call me Vanessa.”

  “Dang, Darby. You must rate higher than I do,” Riley ragged. “She won’t even let me c
all her Vanessa.”

  Darby smiled at Riley. “I have that effect on everyone, Chief.” She turned to Vanessa. “When Riley told me about you yesterday, I knew I had to meet you. I had to make sure you were the girl for the job.”

  Vanessa raised her eyebrows at Riley. “Just what does she know, Mr. Tate?”

  Riley gave her his familiar deer-in-the-headlights look. “Well, Dr. T, I…”

  “He basically told me the truth,” Darby interjected, “that you were sent here to psychologize him. I’ve been trying for weeks to pull him out of this funk. His aura is all changed and he doesn’t respond to anything I have tried.”

  “That’s because you tried some new-agey, hippie-voodoo ritual. Incense and chants are weird, Darbs.”

  “Oh, you closed-minded jerk off, you didn’t even give it a chance. It’s not like I made you wear the headdress.” Darby smacked Riley’s arm. She turned back to Vanessa. “Did he give you grief, too?”

  “Yeah, he said that only crazy or weak people needed psychologists,” Vanessa smiled, reluctantly starting to like Darby.

  Darby looped her arm through Vanessa’s and led her to the end of the porch. “Damn, Vanessa. You got balls for staying. I gotta put up with this from him all the time, and if he hadn’t saved my life, I’d of been out of here a long time ago. Points for your persistence, Doc.”

  Vanessa was intrigued. “He saved your life?”

  “Yeah,” Darby grinned, helping Vanessa down the steps that lead to the pool. “On the set of our movie, the first day of shooting actually, he pulled me out of the way of a guy on a hot pink motor scooter. It coulda killed me.”

  Vanessa laughed. “Oh yes, those vicious Vespas are killers.”

  “Hey! Don’t downplay the heroism. It was very brave of him.” Darby looked at Riley. “Ever since, I knew this guy was going to be a great friend. He reminds me of my older brother so much, except for the blonde hair, the height and the muscles.” She paused. “So, are we going to rematch, or what?”

  “Rematch?” Vanessa asked.

  Riley jumped in the pool, splashing the two women. When he reemerged, all wet and glorious, he wiped his face, flexing his muscles. “Yeah. This one,” he pointed at Darby, “thinks she can take me at a game of horse in the pool. She’s beaten me once in, what, five years?” He turned to Vanessa. “You can watch, unless you are too busy finding a place to stay.”

  “No,” Darby shook her head. “You’re watching. I need your support.” Darby grabbed Vanessa’s right arm. “C’mon. I’ll show you to your front row seat.”

  TWELVE

  “Alright, you got me,” Riley admitted. “I admit defeat. But we aren’t close to even. Two of your wins against about a jillion of my wins does not put you ahead.”

  Apparently, this watery basketball challenge had been a tradition of Darby’s and Riley’s since they met. They rematch about once a week, give or take, when neither of them is busy with movie or TV shoots. Darby’s TV show, where she plays a gritty private detective, was on hiatus for the summer.

  Vanessa spent the time watching the two in the pool. She studied their interactions, like brother and sister. None of the twinges of anger or jealousy flared, and she found herself enjoying the rather cutthroat game; plus, the added bonus of watching a wet Riley physically active was rather pleasant.

  “Dude,” Darby joked, “I am the title holder now. Therefore, I am the champion. I have full bragging rights now. You have to win them back. Vanessa, back me up here.”

  Both Darby and Riley looked at Vanessa.

  “Yes, I believe she is right, Tate. She is the current champion. And if it were me, I would never let you get the chance to win it back.” Vanessa smiled sardonically raising one eyebrow.

  “Ooooh, now that’s an interesting idea.” Darby sang. “I think I love that plan.” Both women laughed.

  Riley tried glaring at both of them, but ending up smiling. “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to work out now. Can I trust the two of you to behave while I’m gone?”

  “Absolutely not,” Darby answered.

  Vanessa watched Riley’s broad shoulders and toned back walk away in all its glistening glory, remembering how graceful he was in the water.

  “I see that,” Darby said, pulling Vanessa from the beginnings of another undressed-Riley fantasy.

  “See what?” Vanessa innocently asked.

  “The way you look at him. You’re smitten, Dr. Taylor. Trying to hide it, but I see it.”

  “Not at all. It is inappropriate to become attracted to a client.”

  Darby looked at Vanessa probingly for a long moment. “Okay, play it however you want.” She paused. “I’m hungry. You hungry? Let’s go raid the Chief’s fridge.”

  Vanessa followed Darby inside to the kitchen. Darby motioned for Vanessa to sit down at the table next to the large windows overlooking the beach. “I’ll make us a sandwich, you need to stay off that ankle. You need an ice pack?”

  “Yes, but I’ll get it.”

  “Nonsense, Vanessa. I’ll get it. You sit down. Put your foot up in a chair. And I’ll bring the sandwich stuff over to the table.”

  “I’m really not that hungry,” Vanessa stated. “Riley made me breakfast not too long ago. I would love a Dr Pepper, though. Or a bottle of water.”

  “Riley made you breakfast,” Darby repeated. “Wow.”

  “No, he was just being nice. I think he feels guilty for all that has happened in the last few days.”

  Darby set down bread, mustard and mayo, lunch meat, lettuce, tomato, cheese, a jar of pickles and two bottles of water on the table. “He might feel a little guilt, but I’m betting he feels something else.”

  Yeah, pity. Change the subject, Nessa. This is going to get uncomfortable, fast.

  “Where does he work out?” Vanessa asked, trying to sound breezy, opening the jar of pickles and selecting one.

  “He has a room full of free weights and what looks like a couple of medieval torture devices upstairs.”

  “More rooms upstairs? This house is huge! He only showed me the game room, an extra bedroom, its bathroom and his collection room.”

  “He’s shown me that stuff. I’ve added to his collection for Christmas and birthdays. It makes him easy to buy for.”

  Deciding to get the focus off of Riley, Vanessa asked, “So, where are you from, Darby?”

  “San Francisco. Typical child of two hippies. My parents actually joined a commune. They moved out of it once I was born, said it got too cultish, but we still followed the lifestyle.” She picked up a piece of ham and laid it on her sandwich. “I was raised a vegan before it was cool, but I quickly reformed that shit once I moved here.” She popped a piece of ham in her mouth. “Meat’s too delicious.”

  “You mentioned a big brother?”

  “Yeah, he broke my parents’ hearts when he joined the Marines. He died eight years ago in Iraq.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Dying in defense of something you believe in is worth it. If he didn’t believe he was doing the right thing, he wouldn’t have been there.” A flash of sadness graced Darby’s face. “I miss him terribly, but I have Riley to make the void not so… voidy.”

  “I guess it’s good you and Riley are friends then.”

  “Yep, the universe brought him to me. Something that I didn’t reform was my belief in signs from the spiritual world. I believe he was sent to save me that day, both from the killer scooter and from my sadness. It was mutual. He was sad from his break up with what’s her name. We helped each other.”

  Vanessa tried not to roll her eyes at Darby. The whole idea of spirits and universes controlling humans was ridiculous to Vanessa, but she would never openly discount a belief of another, at least not in front of that person.

  Darby continued. “Riley told me I was a nut case when I told him my theory of how we were brought together. But I wore him down, especially when I told him about my brother. I think that sealed his tolerance of me. Eventually
, he came to love me.”

  Love? Did she just say love? Great, his ex is still in his life.

  “So… you two dated?” Vanessa asked hoping she sounded very un-jealous.

  “Oh, Goddess, no.” Darby giggled. “He’s, how do I put this? Not my type.” When Vanessa raised her eyebrows in question, Darby answered. “Too much testosterone, not enough estrogen. Plus, I’ve been a relationship now for ten years with Allison. I’m very much in love.”

  Relief flooded Vanessa. She smiled, thinking that Darby really did fit the San Francisco stereotype quite well.

  “Riley’s not my type, either.” Vanessa looked at the jar of pickles, contemplating grabbing another one. “Not for the same reason.” Darby giggled. “I meant that it’s just that I don’t usually go for the meaty variety. I like my men a little less JJ Watt, a little more Sheldon Cooper.”

  “Uh huh. How’s that working out for you?” Darby’s eyes twinkled knowingly. “You know, Riley’s not your typical meathead.”

  Vanessa became frustrated. “Okay, I got it. He’s a nice, smart guy. But I was sent here to treat him.” Not fall for him.

  Darby resumed chewing her sandwich. “What all has he told you?”

  “Not much. But I can’t really reveal what he has told me.”

  “He’s not your client, Vanessa. But I won’t ask you break confidentiality. He, however, had never been MY client, so I can tell you everything I know about him. He was born somewhere in Illinois and moved to Texas when he was eleven. His dad died of a heart attack when he was fifteen, so he was raised mostly by his mother and his grandmother.”

  “He’s from Texas? So that’s how he recognized my accent. Where in Texas?”

  “Yeah, somewhere near Houston. Attack-something?”

  “Atascosita?” Darby nodded, mouth full. “Yeah. It’s north of Houston.” Vanessa smiled.

  “Yeah. He got a full scholarship to UCSD for some medical-techno thingy. He tried to explain it once, but it hurt my head to listen. I never much liked the science stuff.” Darby took another bite.