I'm So Sure (2009)

Home > Romance > I'm So Sure (2009) > Page 10
I'm So Sure (2009) Page 10

by Jenny B. Jones


  And once upon a time, he was a father. “Mickey, I think—”

  “I better get back to work.” He restacks some papers. “Lots to do before this week’s show.”

  I back out of the office and follow the trail of grunts and yells.

  Jake is in full pirate gear today. He has the patch over his eye, tall black boots, and something that’s painfully close to a Speedo with a skull and crossbones on the rear.

  Mark sees me approach and takes his eyes off his opponent. Jake uses the opportunity to hoist him up and give him a spin.

  “Hey, Bella!”

  “Hey, Mark,” I yell as his feet go swinging by.

  My stepdad throws him to the mat and mutters something about making him walk the plank. Stepping back, he breaks character. “How were your last finals?” Jake reaches for a towel from the ropes.

  “More fun than a girl has a right to have.” And my brain is still mush. “Have you noticed anything off with Robbie lately?”

  Jake pats the towel to his face. “Not really. But I’ve been so busy, I haven’t spent as much time with him as I’d like.”

  “Ah, the price of fame.” Mark rolls to a standing position, his hand massaging his back. “I really need to work on my landing.”

  “I know that look on your face, Bella. I’ll take a water break so you can talk to Mark.”

  I smile at Officer Mark as my stepdad climbs out of the ring. “I think you’re making great improvements. You could’ve totally stopped him from picking you up. I know you like to go easier on Jake because he’s older.”

  Mark crosses his arms. “What do you want to know?”

  “Just wanted to check if there’d been any developments on the missing junior class funds.”

  “No. Your friend Anna was absolved. And Victoria Smith simply made a dumb mistake.” Mark sits back into a stretch. “All we know is she saw a guy and girl in the bank drive-thru. We can’t even tell what kind of car in the bank’s surveillance video. But Bella, until this morning, this case really wasn’t on our list of things to be concerned with.”

  I grab his water bottle from the mat and hand it to him. “What would be a motive for harassing two seniors? And me?”

  He shrugs a big shoulder. “Jealousy, a bitter ex-boyfriend, the geek girl who never gets noticed. And no doubt, this person thinks you’re getting close to something. I think we can now tie the threats you’ve received to the night you got run off the road.”

  “And I just need to find the connection.” I pin him with my best serious-girl stare. “What are the chances you’d use me on this case?”

  “Less than zero.” He takes a drink. “After today’s development, you have no business sticking your nose in it.”

  I smile and dig my car keys out of my purse. “I’m just asking for the sake of the paper. Don’t worry about me. I don’t have my nose stuck in the case.”

  Though the rest of my body has plunged right on in.

  chapter seventeen

  I’m so glad your father suggested I pick you up at the airport,” Christina says on Friday as she gives the cabbie directions to the house and settles back into the seat. “He’s in a meeting but will be home later.”

  Her hair is perfectly highlighted, her nails flawlessly manicured, and she has the newest Chloé bag. The one I’ve been saving for. The one I’m still $1900 away from getting, which is like a million in teen-job dollars.

  Christina’s hand touches my coat sleeve. “I feel that we got off to a rough start last time you were here.”

  “Are you living with my dad?” I know the answer. I just want to hear her say it.

  She presses her rosy lips together. “Yes. When two adults care about one another—”

  “Spare me.” Pull over, driver. I need to puke. “Will you be celebrating Christmas with us?”

  Her smile is as fake as the collagen in her lips. “Yes. Your father thought it would be a nice way for us to spend some more time together.” Christina folds her hands in her lap. “Bella, I think you should know that I love your father. So does little Marisol. And we’re not going anywhere, so it would be helpful to all of us if you could just accept that.”

  I stare out the window and watch the snow blanket my city.

  The cab lets us out, and I politely refuse Christina’s help with my bags. Luisa meets me in the foyer, and I let her smoosh me in a hug. She smells like snickerdoodles and old times.

  “How were your finals, niña?” Luisa sees my look of stress. “Why don’t we get you settled in your room?” She gives me a playful whack on the tush, and we make our way upstairs, leaving Christina alone.

  “Tell me she grows on you.” I flop on the bed and stare at the psychotic cherubs overhead.

  Luisa begins to unpack my suitcase. “Did you bring something nice to wear for Christmas dinner?” She stares at me over the hanger of a dress.

  “That bad, huh?” I get up and help her unpack.

  “Your grandmother loves her. That is all I say.”

  That pretty much says it all. Grandmother also likes the idea of boarding school, weak tea, and wearing lots of purple.

  “What is this? Bella helping her old Luisa?” My former nanny smiles. “I think Oklahoma has been good for you. I like this new Bella.”

  We turn at a knock on the door. “Where’s my girl?” Dad walks across the pink carpet and pecks me on the cheek. “Good flight?”

  Much better than the drive home.

  “I guess Christina told you that they’re all moved in here. Marisol is visiting friends for the next few days but will be here for Christmas dinner on the twenty-third.”

  “You know I don’t agree with this.”

  “You always were my little worrier.” He tweaks my nose.

  Behind him Luisa rolls her dark eyes and files out of the room.

  “Tonight I have a dinner meeting with some clients at Tao. It will be outrageously boring, so I invited a friend of yours to keep you company.”

  They all pretty much stopped talking to me after I found my best friend with my boyfriend. As if I were the guilty party. I don’t really have any friends left in Manhattan.

  “Who?”

  “Well, I ran into Hunter Penbrook at Starbucks the other day. So I invited him.”

  “Oh.” Contemplating this. “Okay.” I guess.

  A few hours later, Dad, Christina, and I are dropped off in front of Tao. It’s a great place to spy some celebs, but as we’re led to the table near Buddha, my eyes zoom in on Hunter. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit.

  Dad introduces me to everyone at the table. They nod politely, then jump into business. Hunter and I fade into the background.

  “How are you feeling?” I maneuver my chopstick and take a bite of sushi.

  “We just ruled out leukemia, so that’s a relief,” Hunter says.

  “That’s great.”

  “Now they’re checking on my liver. But enough about that.” He smiles. “I have good days and bad.”

  “And what’s today?”

  His grin widens, and his eyes sparkle into mine. “Definitely good.”

  “How is your dad’s business?”

  Hunter’s expression darkens. “He’s not faring as well as your dad since the accountant took off with the money. He just can’t seem to bounce back.”

  “I’m sure that doesn’t make your health issues any better.”

  His warm hand covers mine. “I don’t want to talk about depressing things tonight. I’m happy to be here—with you.”

  I’m ten minutes into the main course when I notice the guy in the corner with the small video camera.

  “I’m going to slip out,” I whisper to Hunter and jerk my chin in the cameraman’s direction. “Lately I can’t go anywhere without an audience.”

  “Yeah, I saw the tabloids last week. I hope that didn’t bother you.”

  I try to read Hunter’s face. Is he glad the tabloid thought we might be a couple? Or is he smiling because it was kind of funn
y in a twisted, drama queen sort of way?

  Hunter stands up. “Want to grab some coffee?”

  I say good-bye to Dad, Christina, and his business associates.

  Not wanting to tax Hunter with a walk, I hail a cab to the nearest Starbucks. We walk in and I inhale deeply. I love that smell. If there was a way to safely stick coffee beans up my nose, I would.

  Hunter gives our order. “One caramel macchiato and one soy vanilla latte no whip.”

  “You remembered my favorite drink.” There’s something nice about a person really knowing the small details that make you who you are. I miss that.

  We take our drinks and walk outside into the cool air. It hasn’t snowed for hours, yet the sidewalks are still slushy. Times Square looms before us, and I link my arm into Hunter’s and lead him that way in a leisurely stroll.

  My pocket buzzes. “It’s a text from Mom.” I pull up the message. “Jake made the cut tonight!” I clap my hands and laugh. “I really hated to miss Pile Driver of Dreams tonight, but I recorded it. Have you been watching the show?”

  “I’m familiar with some of it.” Hunter stops and covers his face with his scarf.

  “It’s cold, isn’t it?” I button up his top coat button. “Are you feeling okay?”

  I look over his shoulder and my heart sinks. Mia. She walks toward us, a group of my former friends trailing behind her like faithful troops.

  “Hello, Mia.” My voice is even. Controlled. Yet I want to scratch her eyes out. “So you’ve decided to apologize to me?”

  “I’m sure.” She laughs. “Besides, it looks to me like we’re even.”

  My head bobs with attitude. “I didn’t steal anyone’s boyfriend. Let’s get that clear right now.”

  Mia holds up a hand. “Whatever. When his weird phase wears off, he’ll be crawling back to me. And it will wear off, Bella.” Then she lasers Hunter with her glare. “I don’t know what this is all about, but I know you, Hunter. Something’s going on. And maybe I won’t be there when you snap out of it.”

  She and her Bratz doll posse saunter down the sidewalk until they’re swallowed by the crowds of people on Times Square.

  “She is a piece of work.” I shake my head and laugh. But Hunter isn’t laughing with me. He stands frozen to the spot, staring in the direction of Mia’s retreat. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Why did you forgive me?”

  “Because you asked me to.”

  “That’s all it took? But I don’t—didn’t deserve it.”

  A few snowflakes pepper down, and I catch one with my glove. “Nope. You didn’t.”

  “Is this one of those God things again?”

  “I guess so.”

  Hunter wraps an arm around me, and we walk again. “If you weren’t a Christian, what would you have done?”

  “Kicked you in the giblets.”

  He rests his head on mine and laughs. “Jesus does save.”

  chapter eighteen

  On December twenty-third I bow my head and give thanks to God. As in, Thank you, Lord, tomorrow I’m going home.

  I have managed to stay out of Christina’s way, minus one shopping trip in which she thought she could buy my affection with a new pair of suede boots. It did not work. But when she added the new Burberry coat, I did almost bust out some love poetry on her behalf. Seriously, I’m pretty weak. And the coat is to die for. And I guess Christina’s not that bad. She seems to care about my dad.

  I slip into my dress for Christmas dinner and take a turn in the mirror.

  My phone rings, and I skip across the room to get it. Probably Hunter again. We’ve talked every day that I’ve been here.

  I read the display. Luke.

  “Do you have news?”

  “Hello to you too.” His voice sounds good to my ears. “How is Manhattan?”

  “Cold. What did you find out?”

  “I couldn’t get a phone number from the caterer. But they said it was definitely a female who called them and cancelled.”

  “I guess that’s a start. Is that all you dug up?”

  “Bella, you should have more faith in me. I’m pretty good at this.” I hear the smile in Luke’s voice. “Whoever made the call said she was Lindy Miller.”

  “Why would someone try and sabotage prom?”

  “That’s the part we’ll have to figure out when you get back.”

  I sigh and slip my feet into some heels. “I can’t get back soon enough.”

  “Missing me that much?”

  This makes me grin. “I’m missing Truman, believe it or not.” A few months ago I wouldn’t have thought it was possible. “I miss my family, my friends.” And Luke?

  “I saw your picture in a paper today. Looks like you’re keeping busy in New York.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Knock! Knock!

  Luisa sticks her head in the door. “Time for dinner. The old bird can’t wait much longer.”

  “You fixed turkey?”

  She pulls me to my feet. “I was talking about your grandmother.”

  I press the phone back to my ear. “I’ll talk to you later, Luke.”

  But he’s already gone.

  I pass the creamed corn and wish for the millionth time that Christina’s sister, Marisol, came with a mute button.

  “And then I want a new iPod phone. And a MacBook. And this dress I saw at Barney’s. And these Prada boots. And tickets to . . .”

  Dad catches my eye and winks. He leans down and plants a quick kiss on Marisol’s nose.

  “Isn’t she adorable?” Grandmother beams.

  Grandpa’s hearing aid whines. “She’s giving me gas.”

  Me too. I mean, first Mom got replaced and now me. What, am I not cute enough? Not bratty enough? I think more angry thoughts and chug my water, wishing it was some good Southern iced tea.

  When Luisa brings in dessert, a chocolate trifle, it’s everything I can do not to jump out of my chair and dive in headfirst.

  “Luisa, please stay.” My dad stands up. “There’s something I’d like to share with the family.”

  Oh no. No way.

  I watch in horror as my dad goes to Christina, bends on one knee, and reaches for her hand.

  “Dad, can I talk to you in the kitchen?”

  “Not now, Bella.” His eyes never leave Christina. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. And I’ve lived a long time as a selfish man. But this lady right”—he holds her hand over his heart—“this special lady here has changed all of that. She’s seen me at my lowest, and I hope that she’ll join me on my way back to the top.”

  “Dad, I don’t feel so good.” A slick sweat explodes on my forehead.

  “Later, Bella. Christina, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He slides a ring on her finger.

  Little Marisol claps her hands in glee. I want to hurl my fork at her.

  Christina lifts her hand up to the light. She laughs and wipes away some tears. “I would be honored to be—”

  Blughhhh! I puke in my dessert plate.

  “Ew!” Marisol wails and bursts into tears.

  “Well, I never!” Grandma holds her napkin over her taut face.

  Grandpa pats me on the back. “One time I puked for two days straight. Come to think about it, it was right after I married your grandmother.”

  My guts feel like they’re splitting in two. I’m hot. And cold. And—“Bella, are you okay?” My dad puts his hand to my head. “Say something.”

  “Congratulations.” And clutching my stomach, I race to the nearest bathroom.

  chapter nineteen

  Only twice in my life have I wished for death. The first time was in the second grade when Brian Wickham pulled down my skirt in front of the entire Sunday congregation and everyone saw my Care Bear underwear. And the second was last week when somehow I contracted food poisoning and heaved my guts up for a solid day.

  Dad repeatedly said he was sorry.

  Christina said the salmon dip I’d grazed on
before dinner had gone bad.

  Grandmother tsked and said that would teach me to snack before meals.

  And I think I said something like, “Ack! Gag! Barf! ”

  After that everyone pretty much left me alone. How was I supposed to know the dip was out so it could be thrown away?

  Because I was hugging a toilet when my flight left on Christmas Eve, I couldn’t get back to Truman until days later. I missed Christmas with the family, but Mom made everyone rewrap their gifts and have a do-over for my benefit. Robbie loved it, but Budge practiced his twenty-five-variations-on-eye-rolls the entire time. The camera crew filmed every second.

  Between Christmas vacation and missing eight days of school for snow, January evaporated like a snowman in Arizona. Pile Driver of Dreams exploded into a reality show hit. Everywhere I went people were talking about it. Jake even started getting fan mail. He had some close calls in the show, but is hanging in there. US magazine called him a fan favorite in its review.

  The snow days also gave our prom wrecker little time to stir up any more trouble. And lots of time to think of new catastrophes for February.

  “Robbie, make sure you take all your stuff with you from the bus. Don’t leave anything behind.” Mom Velcros Robbie’s lunch sack closed. “It’s just Tuesdays and Thursdays. You can handle that, right?” She ruffles his hair and puts a kiss on his sad face before he shuffles to the living room.

  Mom now has an early morning class at the Tulsa community college. And Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days Budge and I both have to leave early, me for chemistry tutoring, and Budge for a meeting with his dork gamers, otherwise known as future millionaires whose money will one day make them hot.

  Mom rests her hand on my shoulder. “Bad news, Bel. Jake got a good look at your car last night. You need a new alternator.”

  Perfect. “How much is one of those?”

  “More than you’ve got. So until you save up, you can catch a ride with Budge.”

  I sigh into my bite of oatmeal. “I’m broke. Christmas wiped me out.” And this job-a-thon for the school paper isn’t helping. I totally need to clear Ruthie’s name and get the rest of her payment. “Mom, don’t you ever just miss money? You always act like it’s so easy.”

 

‹ Prev