The Lady is a Thief

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “What?”

  “It’s tragic that you have all that wasted space on the second story. I understand you need storage space, but you have a basement beneath the buildings you could use for that. The second-story spaces have separate rear entrances because they used to be apartments years ago. Have you and Milo given thought to remodeling the space to make them into apartments again? There’s significant income earning potential there.”

  “And we just happen to know a single, hunky carpenter.”

  “I never even thought about that,” she said with wide-eyed innocence.

  “We have talked about it, but we thought it would be best to try and recoup some of the money we spent remodeling the first-floor window fronts.” I tipped my head to the side. “But there’s not a lot of work that needs completed and we would start recouping money right away.”

  My mom looped her arm in mine as we started walking toward the diner. “I agree. Let me know what Milo says about the idea.”

  I knew exactly how he was going to respond, so I needed to wait for the right moment.

  “He’s joining us for lunch, so that would be a perfect time.”

  “No!” Milo shook his head vehemently. “It’s too soon after the other renovations.”

  “Why don’t we get an estimate to see how much work and money is involved before we rule it out?” I asked calmly. Mom was just trying to snag a son-in-law by hook or crook from one of her kids, but I was thinking of the earning potential.

  “Mae,” Milo said, imitating our mother’s vexation like a pro. “Why are you pushing so hard for this? I’ve seen our profit and loss statements. We’re doing good, so why can’t that be enough?”

  I didn’t know why, but it wasn’t. I was always trying to wrangle some new goal or dream. I’d achieve one thing and set off in search of the next without enjoying the spoils from my previous conquest. I chalked it up to my personality rather than looking for deeper meanings, because I didn’t want to dwell on things I couldn’t change. Mom gave me the perfect excuse to push this idea harder than I normally would.

  “If we were flipping houses, maybe I could see the risk, but you’re talking about apartments. There’s often high turnover with tenants and a lot of ugliness that comes along with being landlords.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair. “Flipping houses?”

  “Now you did it,” our mother said, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Sylvester would be so jealous. I almost expected to see yellow feathers fall out when she opened her mouth to speak again. “It’s too bad you guys don’t know a carpenter who could take on big projects like that.” Smooth, Mom!

  “What are you talking about?” Milo asked. “Have you forgotten about Andy? He could do it with one arm tied behind his back.” It was nice to see him drop his pretense to stick up for his ex. I thought we might be making some progress in our Milo Still Loves Andy mission.

  “What can I do with my hands tied behind my back?”

  A nicer sister would’ve told her twin that his heart’s desire was in earshot, but I was desperate to see one of us happy for fuck’s sake.

  “Hello, Andy.” My mom once again channeled Jackie O when she rose to her feet to greet Andy. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Mrs. Miracle,” Andy said, smiling at my mom as she sat back down. Then he pinned Milo with a questioning look. “You were saying?”

  “Milo is thinking about flipping houses,” I announced. Milo’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head before they narrowed to mere slits in a warning for me to shut up. “My mom mentioned that we would need a carpenter who could take on big jobs like that. Milo said you were man enough—excuse me, carpenter enough—to get the job done.”

  “Did he?” Andy asked uncertainly. “Hmmm.”

  “I wanted to renovate the spaces above the shops to make them into apartments again, but Milo wasn’t impressed,” I told Andy. “He mentioned flipping houses as an alternative.”

  “Flipping houses takes a lot of capital unless you get really lucky and find a diamond in the rough.”

  “I’m good at digging until I find the good stuff,” I assured Andy. “Why don’t we get a ballpark cost analysis for both types of projects. Can we do that?”

  “Sure, but it’ll be a really rough estimate since I don’t know the details on a specific house you’re looking to flip.” He tipped his head to the side and thought a minute. “I actually have a house in mind. How about I come by tonight to look at the spaces above the shop so I can work up an estimate?”

  “That’s great, Andy. I’m not available tonight, but Milo is free to let you into his—our—back door.” Milo’s face flamed red with embarrassment, and I knew he couldn’t wait to get even with me.

  “What? You don’t have a date?” Andy asked Milo.

  Milo tore his eyes from mine and looked at Andy as if seeing him for the first time. Did he know he rubbed his tongue along his bottom lip or that Andy couldn’t seem to look away from the slight back and forth action.

  “Nope,” Milo finally said.

  “Huh. What time do you want me? To come over,” Andy hastily clarified.

  My mom sat straighter in her chair and winked at me. I sipped my Coke and watched the various shades of red color spread across Milo’s face as his emotions seemed to run the gamut between embarrassment, need, and everything in between. Still, Milo was a cool customer.

  “Meet me at Books and Brew at five thirty, and I’ll give you the key to look around at your leisure.”

  “Okay,” Andy said like it was no big deal, but I saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Milo would’ve seen it had he looked at Andy to gauge his reaction. “See you tonight, Milo. Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

  Nothing was said for several minutes after Andy left until Milo set his fork down and looked up from his plate. “You both will pay dearly for this.”

  “What?” Mom and I asked innocently at the same time.

  “I mentioned turning the second story into apartments not that long ago,” I said defensively. “This isn’t new.”

  Milo batted his eyelashes and fanned his face dramatically. “I do declare, Milo. I wish you could find yourself a strapping stud for a carpenter. Oh, I know! Beefcake Andy!”

  Okay, once was a fluke, but twice was fate.

  “Strapping stud, huh? It’s nice to know that you still notice, Milo.” Andy chuckled as my brother squirmed in his chair. “Beefcake Andy is a new one though. It’s kinda catchy. I was trying to come up with a slogan the other day. The best I could come up with was Handy Andy, but I like yours much better. Perhaps I should change the name of my business and slap that on my T-shirt,” he pondered out loud.

  “Really, Maegan?” Milo demanded, giving me the same death glare that Dad received from Mom on many occasions. “Not even a little hint that he’s standing behind me again?” All coolness from earlier was gone as Milo looked back at Andy. “Forget something, Just Andy?”

  “Actually, yes,” Andy said. All traces of humor slid from his face. “I forgot that I have a prior commitment tonight and won’t be able to meet you after all.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Milo replied dryly.

  “It’s not what you think, Milo. Anyway,” Andy said in frustration, “I would cancel if I could, but…”

  “I’d never dream of asking you to cancel your plans on a Friday night. We’ll do this some other time.”

  “Milo…”

  My brother pinned Andy with a look that expressed how firmly he’d shut that door. “I’ll call you next week.”

  “Are you two happy?” Milo asked once Andy walked away dejectedly. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this humiliated.”

  “Seventh grade,” I suggested. “You forgot the words to the song you picked to sing in the variety show.”

  “Oh my goodness!” My mom threw her head back and laughed. “You practiced that song every day in the bathroom mirror for a solid month. How could you forget the words?”r />
  Milo grinned wryly then shrugged. “Nerves. Performance Anxiety. It happens in more places than the bedroom, you know.”

  “Divine intervention,” I added. “You told them you were going to sing Bette Midler’s ‘The Rose’ then planned to sing ‘Like a Virgin’ instead. It’s a good thing you got stage fright or you would’ve risked a suspension from school.”

  “Were you planning to imitate masturbation on a makeshift bed?” Mom asked.

  “Who said anything about pretending?”

  Mom and I laughed riotously at Milo’s response. I could easily imagine the horror on the staff’s face if Milo had pulled off his plan—pun intended.

  “I’m so happy that I entertain the women in my life,” Milo said huffily.

  “I’m sorry, Milo. Let me make it up to you.”

  “How?” he asked cautiously.

  “I know just how you really want to spend your Friday night.”

  “I’m not crawling around in people’s dirt and dust to find ‘treasures’ with you and Memphis.” I thought his little air quotes were adorable.

  “Oh, come on,” I cajoled. “You always have a fun time when you come with us.”

  “True, but I’ll still pass.”

  “Okay, you can stay home and pine after—”

  “Fine, as long as you promise not to bring him up.”

  “Deal.” I extended my hand across the table so we could shake on it. I didn’t point out that his part of the deal was ambiguous. He didn’t specify a timeframe, so I decided to bide my time. Our mom didn’t agree to anything of the sort and chose every opportunity to work Andy aka Handy Andy, Beefcake Andy, and Just Andy into the conversation during the remainder of our lunch.

  I WAS IN UNCHARTERED TERRITORY with Maegan. Well, that was only partially true. I’d sailed the waters before, but it had been a very long time, and my boat ran ashore with catastrophic results. The fact that I didn’t want to wash Maegan’s scent off my body prompted me to haul my ass to the shower at the ass crack of dawn and do just that.

  She’s just a piece of ass, Eli. Beautiful, sexy, and alluring, but still just a piece of ass. Don’t ever forget it. Don’t trust her.

  No matter how much my brain urged me to be cautious, my heart—and dick—recalled every single second of the night I spent with her. Running the bar of soap over my flesh reminded me of all the places on my body she touched, kissed, sucked, or licked. Maegan was a very inquisitive girl and the only part of me that she didn’t know intimately were the spaces between my toes. Everything else, and I do mean everything, had at least been traced or touched by her teasing fingers. As if to mock me, the claw marks she left on my back and ass cheeks stung when I stepped beneath the scalding spray.

  I’d never had to pop ibuprofen after sex before, but then again, I wasn’t sure what we experienced could be reduced to such a simple word. Every muscle on my body ached from extended tightening and flexing beneath her ministrations. There was so much more than an exchange of body fluids going on, which was the real reason for my panic. That, plus the confession that slid from her lips in the dark.

  “Wow, this has never happened to me.”

  “Multiple orgasms?”

  “No, an orgasm with another person.”

  She had to be fucking with my mind, right? No other guy had managed to make her scream their names? Were they fucking idiots? Were they selfish pricks, or did they just not have any skill in the sack? Man, her words blew my mind. And what was my response to this discovery?

  “Huh.” Yep, but it gets better. “Well, you’re welcome.” Hey, the lady ignited my soul and I was grappling with everything she made me feel and want.

  I waited for the huffy breath and scathing remark—possibly a slap to the face—but Maegan showed me again that she was as unpredictable as choosing the winning lottery numbers. She laughed deep and hard in the darkness, so hard it shook her bed. I couldn’t see Maegan, but if I could, I knew her head would be thrown back as laughter rolled out of her. I suspected that Maegan put her full heart, body, and soul into everything she did.

  She didn’t giggle, she laughed. Maegan didn’t make love, she fucked. I instinctively knew that Maegan didn’t give her heart easily, but when she did, she gave her whole heart—not just tattered fragments. I was the exact opposite; all I had to offer were shards of the man I used to be, and not many were willing to risk cutting themselves by getting too close. My heart—or was it my dick—wanted me to take a chance on Maegan because she was strong enough to glue the pieces of my shattered soul together again.

  Run. Get out now!

  Fuck. The strain from wanting to pull Maegan close and push her away created a seesaw effect on my nerves, causing pressure to build inside my head and chest until it felt like I might explode. I flopped down on my bed after toweling off, both grateful and sad that my bed didn’t smell like her. We could rectify that in a heartbeat. My dick started to swell at just the thought of having that sexy wildcat in my bed. My skin started tingling where she had scored me, making me think she was a sorceress who’d cast a spell. It was like she was sending a message through the marks she left behind. If they could talk, they would have said, “I dare you to try and forget me, Elijah.”

  Resist!

  Lack of sleep from the previous two nights caught up to me, and I fell into a hard and fast sleep. I should’ve known the riotous emotions would follow me into my dreams and wreak havoc, but the intensity of the memories that flitted through my brain like a cruel kaleidoscope caught me off guard—ambushed me as surely as the Taliban had.

  “I’m going to love you forever, Elijah.” We were eight years old and I had carved our initials in a tree like some lovesick sap.

  “I, Elijah Donovan Markham, take thee, Brandy Lynn Rogers, to be my lawfully wedded wife…” It was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives.

  “This war might separate us physically, Elijah, but I’ll be right there in your heart. You’ll never be alone. Do you hear me? When you get home, I promise to be the first thing you see. It’s you and me forever just like we said when we were kids.” Words that lifted my battered soul and eased the guilt I felt over leaving her alone.

  “I miss you so much, baby, but your family has made me feel so loved.” It comforted me to know that my family was taking care of my girl while I was away.

  I ignored my gut instinct and blamed the missed calls and decrease in letters from her on everything and everyone but my wife. There was no way that my Brandy would do the things that seasoned soldiers warned me about, not my girl. Her heart was still as pure as when she gave her body to me after homecoming our sophomore year of high school. Elijah and Brandy. Names that went together from the moment we were born, which was only a few days apart. Our mothers were best friends, so we were raised together, took family vacations together, and learned about love together.

  A person didn’t think of me without thinking of Brandy, and vice versa. I held onto that knowledge when fear clawed at my guts in the middle of the night when loneliness descended on me like a suffering smog, or when the bombs exploded and the world burned to the ground around me, threatening to consume me too. Brandy was my constant, my guaranteed prize at the end of the ugliest fight. Knowing she would be there to meet me with open arms was the only thing that got me through the year-long separation.

  Except she wasn’t there when I got off the plane at the base. “She’s not feeling well,” my mama calmly said, but I knew it had to be serious for her to miss my homecoming. She told me she had bought a special dress to wear and everything, but of course, that was before she started withdrawing from me. Fear lashed at my insides, leaving me bloody and raw as I went in search of her. Brandy wasn’t in the apartment we shared. She wasn’t at her mama’s house. None of her friends would tell me where I could find her. I was beside myself with grief and panic. What the fuck was going on?

  She ended up being in the last place I expected to find her. I’d gone to his house knowing he’d get dru
nk and commiserate with me, not stopping to think it was weird that he wasn’t there to greet me with Mom and Dad either. Jack was my big brother, my hero. I knew something was wrong by the expression on his face when he opened the door, but I swear to God, nothing could’ve prepared me for the shock I faced.

  “You need to remain calm, Elijah,” he said, his hands up in surrender. “She’s in no condition for the fight you probably want to have right now. Take it out on me; I deserve it.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Jack?”

  That’s when he realized that no one had told me yet. He hid in his house, expecting our parents or mutual friends to tell me what he’d done to me. My own motherfucking brother. Wife-fucking was the accurate adjective, but not nearly as nasty enough for the crime he committed against me. The fucking coward shook with fear as he confessed to what he’d done.

  “Is she here?” I asked, shoving past him. “Brandy! You fucking whore!” I screamed. “Come out here and face me.”

  “She can’t, Elijah.” Jack grabbed my arm to stop me from going into his bedroom. I wheeled on him and punched him in the fucking mouth. I left him holding his hand to his busted lips while I charged into the bedroom, nearly ripping the door down in the process.

  “Elijah,” Brandy said weakly, tears streaming down her face. I used to think she was so beautiful, an angel sent from above, but right then I knew I was looking into the eyes of someone as evil as they came. Then my eyes dropped to her swollen stomach and it felt like someone had kicked me in mine. “I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you. It just… happened.”

  “You never meant to spread your legs for my brother, Brandy? How does that accidentally happen?” She started to sob, but I wouldn’t be deterred by her guilt. She wasn’t sorry; she was ashamed. “What happened to forever, Brandy? What happened to the promises you made to me? Vows to be faithful? Was it always a lie? Is Jack the first one you fucked behind my back or just another sorry sucker that fell for your honey trap?”