“It isn’t that bad. Plus, it adds mystery.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m just happy to have the dressings all removed. And converting the old cast to a walking one will be much better, though we may need to accessorize it a bit too. I was kind of getting used to the bling. That long leg thing, though, was really starting to itch.”
“I bet. I wouldn’t be able to stand having it that long either.”
I smirk to myself because I think I’m pretty funny, “That’s because you can’t stand a long term relationship with anything other than your spa and your vibrator.”
“Ha. Very funny. And okay, fine, kind of true,” she admits.
“Well, I thought it was a good one.” I notice her looking at my arm.
“Whatever. We could come up with some great stories about what happened to you.”
“Oh! I think a knife fight. Sounds like I’m bad ass.”
“You? A knife fight? I don’t think so.”
I sigh loudly, “You are great for a person’s self-esteem, Pyper. I think I’ll just keep it covered up for now anyway. That’s better than the truth.”
“No, that’s not true, Livvie. You’re survivor. There’s no shame in that. You know I’m just teasing you.”
“Yes, I know. I just hate having one more memory of my kidnapping.”
Pyper rubs my back, “You are the strongest person I know. What’s a little scar?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
The doctor comes back into the room, “Okay, Olivia, you should be all set. Take it easy with that arm. Just because your stitches and bandage have been removed, doesn’t mean the area isn’t still sensitive. It can take up to two years for it to fully regain its near former strength and elasticity. And it may never be more than eighty percent of what it was before. You had a nasty injury there.”
“Okay, I understand.”
“I also prescribed a cream,” he hands me a piece of paper, “It’s a cream that will help the appearance of your scar disappear a little. Rub it on twice a day as it continues to heal.”
“Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. I will see you back in a few weeks for a checkup. Before you know it we will be taking your walking leg cast off. As you know, since the bone penetrated the skin, healing is going to take a bit longer on your leg.”
“Yes, I can’t wait to get it off. It’s starting to bother me a lot. It’s been itching like crazy at times. Sometimes I fantasized about busting it off myself. Will this one itch too?”
Dr. Osenhoff laughs. “Likely it will. It itches as it heals. Itching is a good sign, even if irritating. And, by the way, you’re not the first person who has had some innovative ideas for cast removal. Try your best to leave it be. I know it’s hard.”
“I’ll try. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome, Olivia. It was nice to meet you, Pyper.”
“You too, Doc,” Pyper quips.
As we make our way out of the doctor’s office, hobbling a bit with my updated cast, and happy to be free of my crutches – well mostly anyway - I turn to Pyper, “Thanks again so much for coming with me.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me? That’s what friends are for.”
“Well still, I appreciate it. I don’t take it for granted.”
“I know you don’t. So Luke is still going to be at the club for a while, right?”
“Yeah I think so. Why do you ask?”
“Because your best friend booked you a manicure appointment. I thought maybe you’d like to get your nails done after your final appointment for your arm, so I took the liberty of booking us appointments.”
“Aww, you really are the bestest friend ever.”
“Don’t I know it.”
A little while later we pull up to the spa. I’m excited to get my nails done, it has been a long time since I’ve taken care of myself as far as beauty splurges go. I’m wearing my cute navy blue and white chevron skirt with a white, long sleeved tee, a jean jacket, and silver flats. My outfit is complimented with lots of silver chains and my silver tote. My skirt allows my now walking-casted leg plenty of room, and even though I’m hobbling along, I look cute doing it. I’m so tired of the constant sweats, t-shirts, or pajamas I’ve been sporting lately. Needing to make accommodations for my leg cast, didn’t give me lots of options. I will be happy when I can slip my favorite pair of jeans back on. I confess though; my inner fashion diva has been dying a slow death and she was more than thrilled when I actually got dressed and did my hair and makeup today. I even had Pyper take my picture for an outfit of the day post for my blog. And it feels good. It feels normal.
Pyper walks slowly so I can keep up with her and when we arrive, holds the door open for me. She looks really nice today too. Dressed in a pair of jeans, she’s paired it with a gray wrap sweater that ties on the side, gray heeled booties and a large Kate Spade tote bag. She looks amazing, red hair in tousled waves down her back. Once I’m through, she stalks ahead of me to the front desk, “Hi Penelope, how is business today?”
“Oh hello, Ms. Lexington. Everything is going well, we’ve had a full schedule this morning. Lexi, our massage therapist called in sick, but Kelly was able to come in and pick up her appointments that didn’t want to reschedule, so it’s all worked out.
“That’s great. Good job holding down the fort.” Penelope gives Pyper a brilliant smile as if Pyper gave her the best compliment she’s ever received. “Penelope, I would love for you to meet my best friend, Olivia. Olivia, this is Penelope, my assistant manager.”
I smile at Penelope, “Hi Penelope, it is very nice to meet you. I hope Pyper isn’t too much of a slave driver.”
“Oh no! Never! Ms. Lexington is a wonderful boss, I’m so lucky to work here. It’s very nice to meet you, Olivia.” Wow, she’s not even smirking like she’s joking. This girl is crazy serious.
I give Pyper a look and her lips twitch in response, “Penelope, will you please let Ginger and Sally know that Olivia and I are here for our appointments? Thank you.”
“Right away, Ms. Lexington,” and then she scurries, yes scurries, off to do Pyper’s bidding.
“Holy hell, Pyper. What have you done to that poor girl? Did you go psycho boss on her ass or something?”
“No, not at all. Believe it or not, Olivia, some people are just really serious about their jobs and like working for me.” I don’t know how she manages to say that with a straight face, because I bust out laughing.
Fortunately, she isn’t able to keep a straight face for long either and laughs too, because if she didn’t, I’m pretty sure it would have been a sign of the apocalypse. “I have no idea what her deal is. Can you believe she’s like that ALL the time? I mean, I’m glad she takes her job seriously, and she really is great, but I’ve made it a goal of mine to try to get the girl out to have some fun.”
“I think some fun and some good sex would do her a world of good,” I volunteer my opinion making both of us giggle.
SLAM
“You will fucking do what I say!” Deacon screams at me, shaking a gun in my face and then shooting it at the ceiling.
I gasp, slap my hands over my ears and let out a small scream. Fear grips my stomach and it feels like it just landed in a heap on the floor. I bend at the waist and get myself as small as possible, which isn’t easy given my cast, but I don’t want him to hurt me. Maybe if I make myself as small and quiet as possible, he’ll just go away.
I’m shaking uncontrollably and tears are already streaming down my face in waves. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure if I were shirtless you’d be able to see it through my skin. I start counting in my head, the repetition soothing me. I hear a high pitch ringing sound in my ears that makes me feel like everything is moving in slow motion.
I’m terrified.
Suddenly, like a car going eighty miles an hour, awareness slams into me.
“Olivia! Olivia!”
I’m aware tha
t there are hands on my upper arms and I’m being shaken. Clarity comes to my mind and I realize Pyper is the one saying my name over and over. Very slowly - because part of me is afraid it isn’t her face I’ll see - I lift my tear-stained eyes up. Relief so potent it makes my body feel boneless, runs through me. Pyper’s eyes are big, round, and full of fear and sadness.
“Pyper?” I whisper.
“It’s okay, Olivia. It’s okay,” she whispers over and over like a prayer.
“What was that sound?” I choke out, my body still pulsing with remnants of fear, even though I know I’m safe. I’m fine. Deacon is not here.
“It was just Penelope. When she was coming around the corner she accidentally slammed into the chair, knocking it over. That’s what she gets for being an over achiever and rearranging the lobby furniture.” She laughs, but it sounds forced and hesitant.
“A chair?” I shake my head in confusion. I look around and see Penelope standing across the room, staring at me. When my eyes meet hers, she hurriedly looks away and begins to fuss with the furniture, trying to look like she’s arranging it and not staring at me out of the corner of her eyes. Fortunately, no one else seems to be here witnessing my meltdown, but that doesn’t stop my face from burning red in embarrassment anyway.
Seeing me staring, Pyper turns to see what has my attention and when she sees Penelope, her face hardens, “Penelope!” she snaps, “Get Olivia a bottle of water!”
Without a word, Penelope scurries off to do just that. Pyper somehow has a tissue in her hand like magic and is wiping my tears. “Are you okay? We can leave. Do you want to go home? I understand if you’d rather go home. I’m so sorr-“
Whenever Pyper doesn’t know what to do or say, she starts to talk too much. I love it because I would just sit there in awkward silence not having a clue and looking like an ass. Not Pyper.
“No, I’m okay. Oh god, I’m so sorry… when the chair fell, I thought….” I stop and swallow, not wanting to continue that sentence. But as is the case most times with best friends, Pyper knows that without me even having to say a word.
“I know, you thought mother earth was being invaded. It’s okay. I think your theatrics scared them away.”
I smile, “That was my plan all along.”
“I knew it. It’s rule number one in the alien invasion handbook. Create a diversion by screaming and curling up into a ball or by flashing them your boobs while running in zigzags. I see you went with option one.”
I chuckle and then she asks, “But seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just really embarrassed. Can we carry on with our nail appointments?”
“Yes of course, as long as you’re sure…”
“I’m sure. It’s just what I need. To pretend this never happened.”
A look of unease crosses Pyper’s face but she wipes it away quickly, “Okay then. Penelope!!”
A little while later I’m admiring my red manicure painted with OPI’s I’m Not Really a Waitress, the most perfect red nail polish on the planet. Pyper went with a soft white color called Halo I’m Beautiful that looks perfect on her, but always makes my hands look washed out.
“So, I really want to do something nice for Luke. He’s been taking constant care of me and we’ve pretty much been home bodies. I was thinking maybe I should take him out to dinner or something.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m sure he would like that. Are you sure he would want to go out?”
“Well, I don’t know why he wouldn’t?”
“Well because of the crowds and…” she trails off when she sees the look on my face.
“The crowds? What are you talking about?”
She sighs and her lips become a straight line. Just as I’m about to push her into telling me, she gives in to whatever internal battle she’s fighting. “He prefers being at home with you because right now, crowded places make him nervous.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why that would be, and it irritates me. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding. He’s got a point, Olivia.”
“What? How can you say that?”
“Easy. He’s right. He can’t keep track of everyone in a crowded restaurant. It’s easier for someone to hide in, create a diversion, trick you to going to the bathroom or something and taking you…”
“Are you serious? This isn’t a Jason Bourne movie, it’s my life.”
“I damn well know it’s your life! And you’ve already been kidnapped once, for God’s sake, what’s to stop it from happening again? If Deacon thinks he can get away with it, he’s capable of anything and you know it. Why the hell would you want to put yourself in a position like that?”
“Because I will be damned if I let him control my life!”
“Well too bad! There is a difference between letting him control your life and just being plain stupid!” We are yelling now and I’m thankful it’s just the two of us sitting here, although the irony isn’t lost on me that we are sitting in the Zen garden being anything but… well, Zen.
I take a deep breath and count to ten because rationally, I know she isn’t calling me stupid, I know she just cares and is concerned. “I’m not being stupid, Pyper. I’m taking back control.”
We stare at each other for a few minutes and don’t say a word. Both of us lost in our own opinions. Finally, she breaks first, “Look, if you want the truth, the truth is this. If you want to do something nice for Luke, cooking him a meal at home would go over better with him than going out somewhere.” I start to interrupt and she holds up a hand stopping me, “I’m not saying he never wants you to go out. I’m just saying if thanking him and making it a night FOR him is what you’re after, then staying in would be the way to go. Otherwise, he will be a nervous wreck, and both of you will be more annoyed with one another at the end of the night instead of enjoying each other’s company.”
I sigh, “You’re right. I know you’re right. I want the evening to be about him, not me. But, a home cooked meal? Um, hello? Have you met me? I suck at cooking. Must I remind you of the boiled egg incident?”
“Oh please, that wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Really? Let me refresh your memory. I couldn’t follow simple instructions to let the water boil, take it off the heat and then put in the eggs and cover the pan. Instead, I put them down in the pan while the water was boiling hot on the stove. Eggs cracked everywhere, leaving trails of white goo, and I splashed burning hot water all over my arms when I dropped them in! Burns, Pyper. Actual burns. On my arms. I can’t possibly cook him a meal from scratch at home!”
“Actually, you’re better than you thought. You just recited the proper way to boil eggs all on your own. Apparently, following instructions is just where you screw up.”
“Ha. Very funny. Knowing and doing are two very different things.” I have to admit though, my mind has already wandered to the thought of me slaving away cooking a meal for Luke and him coming home to a meal I prepared for him. I would be all cute in an apron and he would come up and kiss me on the cheek and ask, “What’s for dinner?” I would be like a domestic goddess!
“Hmmm, then again, maybe cooking him dinner at home would be a good idea.”
18.
RAGE REIGNITED
Luke
“I don’t give a shit, Chuck. You’ve told me you understand, but you keep screwing up. And it’s happening on my dime, so I’m going to keep repeating myself until it’s stamped into your brain, because nothing else seems to be doing the trick.” I sigh to myself while I listen to him give me yet another excuse. I interrupt him before he gets far, “I’m tired of excuses. So either do what I say, or tell me you can’t step up to the plate. Because, if you can’t, then I’ll send someone else to do YOUR job - that’s all there is to it.” I hang up the phone. I don’t have time for his incompetence.
I have worked hard to not become known as being a prick for a boss. I have always found the balance between being easy goi
ng and rewarding staff that performs, but at the same time, not settling for less than my expectations of them. But, as I’m sure the case is in every company, there are people that even after giving them chance, after chance, still just don’t get it. I run my business like a well-oiled machine. I’m certainly not a novice, so I don’t do well with people questioning my directives. Feedback is fine. Improvement great. But some things are not up for discussion.
I’m sure the fact that I don’t want to be here doesn’t help my tolerance level of stupidity in the slightest. All I can think about is that I’ve left Olivia alone. Sure, she said she will be fine and she has articles to write and stuff to do for her blog, but I hate being away from her. It’s become an irrational fear that is at times, uncontrollable. I often times feel physically sick being away from her. My body gets warm, my stomach in knots, and I feel a deep ache in my bones at the distance between us. It’s so strange. I’m sure it’s all in my head, but dammit, she’s still in danger.
Pushing out another sigh, I tell myself that I’m going to push all these thoughts from my mind and work hard to concentrate on nothing but Zero Gravity for the next few hours. I’m thrilled that our intake continues to exceed plan. This longstanding trend – one we’ve seen since first opening our doors – makes me quite happy. Liquor sales are through the roof, the door charge is still competitive with other clubs in the area, and it has allowed us to pay good money for great entertainment. Which reminds me; I have a few new bands that are interested in playing here. I need to set up times to interview them, and if they pass the screening, try them out on open mic night; to see how they handle themselves and if they would be a good fit. I pick up the phone and start making some calls, filling the calendar quickly.
Aside from that, I have alcohol to order and a few resumes to review. Zero Gravity has four bars, one upstairs, three downstairs. We employ waitresses that also walk around taking orders. Since opening, we’ve only utilized two of the three bars on the lower level, but now that we are consistently exceeding our sales goals, the extra cost of an additional bar and the staff needed to run it will be paid for easily. Plus, an additional bar will keep traffic through the club decongested, since it will minimize the likelihood of crowding at any one bar. Picking up the resumes, I scan them, searching for one in particular. I promised an old friend that if a bartender position became available, I would give him a call. One of my best friends from college has had a rough time of it lately, and could use a change of pace. I pick up the phone, ready to call him about the position, but before I can start dialing, my cell phone rings.
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