Fighting the Fall

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Fighting the Fall Page 17

by J. B. Salsbury


  “But I’ve given my life to this restaurant. I’ve worked here since I was a kid.”

  “Don’t think of it as a bad thing; think of it as a chance for new opportunities.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice booms and echoes off the walls. “I have no work experience outside of Nori. I’ll never get hired after being fired for something like this.”

  “I’m sorry. If you needed money for food, you should’ve come to me. I could’ve requested an advance on your paycheck. Stealing is never the answer.”

  “So write me up, slap me on the hand, but don’t fire me.”

  “This is something we can’t overlook.”

  “I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this to me.” I can’t afford to lose this job. My house, car, utilities, if I don’t get them paid soon, I’ll lose everything.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not!” Dammit, I need to calm down. I drop my gaze to my lap and take a deep breath. “Mr. Gamboni, please, I need this job. I’ll do whatever you ask. Just give me another chance. Please.”

  He shakes his head. “Sorry, orders are from Cavat. I’m just doing my job, Eve.”

  Oh, now he knows my damn name. Fuck this.

  I grab my purse and stomp around the desk. Inside the top drawer are a few of my personal items—nail file, lip gloss, bottle of aspirin—that I shove in my purse. I snag the pen he has tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt. “This is mine too.” After dropping it in my purse, I storm out of there and slam the door behind me.

  “Sayonara, assholes.” I head out to my car and point it toward the Slade’s house.

  My coffee date with Raven at four-thirty just got upgraded to a tequila date at ten a.m.

  ##

  “Fuckin’ dicks!” I throw back another shot of tequila and cringe against the flame that slides down my throat.

  “I’m so sorry, Eve.” Raven’s sitting next to me on the top step of her pool. She’s wrapped in a cool fifties-style black halter maternity swimsuit, her hair piled on top of her head and black oversized sunglasses shading her eyes.

  I called her after leaving Nori, and she got out of work to hang out with me. I guess Guy has been trying to get her to back off on her workload anyway since she’s getting closer to her due date. The second I stormed in her house, she tossed me a bikini and handed me a bottle of tequila. Best friends don’t get best-er than that.

  I put the shot glass down by the bottle on the pool deck. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I can’t put Nori down as a reference. What if they ask why I was let go?”

  Raven’s eyebrows drop below her frames. “Why didn’t you come to me? I had no clue you were hurting for money.”

  “I can’t ask you for money, Rave. It feels so wrong. I mean we came from nothing, ya know? I know you have like zillions now, but I need to find my own.” I flick the water a few times. “Although, looking back, I guess coming to you would’ve been a better option. Hindsight’s a dirty whore.”

  She doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful for that. I can’t believe I did something so stupid. What was I thinking?

  “Maybe you should try to fight it. I’ve heard of companies getting sued for not making sure employees get breaks.” Raven munches on a plate of grapes.

  “Even if I had the money to hire a lawyer, which I don’t, they’ll never give me my job back.” I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe that little troll Seth was right. I could use something new.”

  “Too bad you don’t know crap about cars. I know Guy would love a mechanic to take over for me. Then I can just lock myself up at home and become the perfect little princess, safe in the tower while I await the birth of my baby.” She chucks a grape to the far end of the pool.

  “Oh boy . . .”

  She turns her shades toward me, and even behind the dark lenses, I can feel her scowl. “More like oh men. I tried to get him to let me take the Nova to work the other day so I could change the oil on it, and you would’ve thought I was asking him if I could shove razor blades up my nose.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is. If he’d give just a little, you wouldn’t be pulling so hard in the opposite direction.”

  She grunts and inhales another cheekful of grapes.

  “Um . . . speaking of men. There’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about, you know, before I got fired.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She finishes chewing and swallows. “That’s right. What is it?”

  I push off the step and wade into the shallow end of the pool. “Turns out you were right, and I, uh . . . I don’t think I’m gay.”

  She tilts her head, and this time shoves her sunglasses up to her head to shoot daggers in my direction. “No kidding.”

  “Ha-ha.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve been kinda seeing someone.”

  Her eyes go wide, and a big grin pulls at her mouth. “That’s awesome. Where did you meet him?”

  “That’s the funny part. You introduced us.”

  She blinks, and her eyebrows pinch together. “Huh Oh!” She snaps and grins. “Mason. I mean, technically I think Jonah or Blake introduced you, but it is Mason, right? You were at the party with him the other—”

  “No, it’s not Mason.”

  “Oh.” Her expression turns sour. “Who is it?”

  “It’s, uh . . . Cameron.”

  Her entire expression goes slack.

  “Unexpected, I know. We just . . . We slept together, and I thought that’s all it would end up being, like a seriously amazing one-night stand, but . . .”

  “Eve—”

  “He showed up, and we slept together again, and holy shit, it was like . . .” I make an explosion sound and slap my palms on the water. “He kinda blew me off after that, but then when I went to his party, we hooked up again, started talking, and here we are.”

  “Eve, but he’s kind of—”

  “Don’t freak out, okay? I really like him, and at first I thought he was just using me, but he’s taken me out a couple times, and I don’t want to hide this from you or anyone anymore.”

  “Old.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Cameron Kyle is about as handsome as they come, but isn’t he forty or something?”

  “No, he’s not forty!” I flick water at her. “He’s thirty-eight.”

  “Big difference.”

  “Jonah’s older than you.”

  “Yeah, but not by”—she counts on her fingers—“seventeen years.”

  “Age doesn’t mean anything, Rave. And you know I’ve always had a thing for older guys.”

  “True.”

  “Please, just be happy for me. It’s been a horrible day, and I could use a little good right now.” I tilt my head to the tequila bottle. “I mean good outside of Señor Patron.”

  “Of course I’m happy for you.” She waddles across the shallow end and hugs me as much as she can with her pregnant belly between us. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” There’s pain in her voice.

  My chest cramps. I hate that she feels responsible for what went down between Vince and me. “Rave, I’m fine. I’ll never get hurt like that again. I’m walking with my eyes open from here on out, okay?”

  She pulls back and smiles. “Okay. So let’s celebrate. You get a shot. I’ll go grab a carton of ice cream.” She claps her hands and exits the pool to the outdoor kitchen freezer.

  God, I love her. A wave of sadness hits me. We’ve been everything to each other for so long, but once that baby comes, things will never be the same between us. She’s the only family I’ve ever had. Jonah’s taken a piece of her, and whatever’s left needs to go to her baby. I breathe deeply through the cramping in my chest. This is life; people change and they move on. Everyone does it, and soon it’ll be Raven’s turn to walk away.

  It’ll be okay.

  I’ll be okay.

  I have to be.

  ~*~

  Cameron

  “’Li, you have
to turn on the TV here and the cable box here. If you want to watch a DVD, you have to hit input until it says HDMI.” I’m pointing to all the different buttons on the new remote I got. I thought it would be easier for her since each button clearly says “TV On” and “TV Off,” but I was wrong. She’s still not getting it.

  I don’t remember her being so dense when we were younger. Then again I was more about her image than I was about her as a woman. Being married to a model gave me some exceptional bragging rights, but I never really searched to know her well beyond her gorgeous looks and public personality. If I had, I doubt we ever would’ve gotten married.

  “Oh, so here.” She presses “TV On.” The television flickers to life.

  “Yeah.”

  After a few more lessons with the remote, I’m ready to get home and call Eve. I never got the chance to tell her about my conversation with Slade this morning. I’d hoped to call her on my way to ’Li’s, but ended up on the phone with Ryder.

  “Any plans for the big day?” She picks at the ends of her hair.

  Ryder’s eighteenth birthday is coming up, and the poor kid always has to share it with Rosie, even though she’s not around to celebrate with us. Except for the couple times D’lilah was in rehab, she’s a mess when the twins’ birthday rolls around. It starts about a week before and escalates until the day of, something I’m really not fucking looking forward to for my kid.

  “Ry wants to hang with his buddies this year. I’ll take him out to dinner the weekend after.”

  “Oh, that would be great. Can, uh . . .? Can I go with you guys?”

  Since we’ll be celebrating the week after, she should be in decent condition to be out in public. I’d hoped to bring Eve along, depending on how things go between us until then. She gets along well with Ryder, and now that I think about it, she hit it off well with ’Li too. Eve’s like a catalyst for all things happy. She can talk music with Ry and fashion with D’lilah.

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to Ryder and see where he wants to go. We’ll work out the details.”

  “Thanks, Cam.” She turns and flips through channels.

  “You good?” I push up from the couch and fish my keys from my pocket.

  “You’re leaving?” It’s obvious from the look on her face that she doesn’t want me to go. The woman has lost every friend she’s ever had because of her drinking, and it’s got to be lonely living in this big house alone, haunted by memories.

  “Need to get home; have shit to do.” Just the thought of spending a lot of time in this house with her gives me the sweats.

  As if on cue, my eyes slide to the backdoor that leads to the pool. The sound of Rosie’s laughter rings through my head, and I pinch the bridge of my nose to push it back. Stay on your feet.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  She smiles and sinks into the couch with her glass of wine and the remote. Her idea of quitting ended up being a switch from hard liquor to wine.

  I quick walk my ass to the car, feeling like I’m being chased by ghosts from the past. Once in the car, I hit Eve’s contact info on my phone while backing out of the driveway. It goes straight to voicemail. Huh.

  No text messages, but I have one missed call from Slade. I hit his contact info and wait for the ring.

  “Cam,” Jonah answers sounding pissed, but that’s not unusual.

  “You call?”

  “Just dropped your woman off at your place. Your boy let her in.”

  “Eve?” Fuck, stupid question.

  “I certainly motherfuckin’ hope so, man.”

  “You feel like tellin’ me why?”

  “Girl’s drunk as shit.”

  What? My dash says it’s only eight o’clock at night. She was working until late afternoon. “What the hell did she get up to?”

  “Sat by the pool with my girl all day, hit the tequila girls-gone-wild-style. Fed her, hydrated her, but she’s still drunk as shit.”

  This doesn’t sound like Eve. The night we met she was pulling from that Long Island and cringing as if she were drinking battery acid.

  “Not all day.” I lay a little heavier on the gas. “She worked until this afternoon.”

  “That’s not the story I’m hearin’. She showed up early.”

  “Any clue why she’s feelin’ the need to get hammered hanging out with a pregnant woman all day?”

  No answer.

  Fuck me.

  “Slade, what the fuck?”

  “Think you need to talk to your woman.”

  Shit. “Right.”

  “Later.”

  I hit End and point the Maserati toward home. Even if her day was filled with girl talk and booze, why would she want to be brought to my house?

  This can’t good.

  Twenty-Two

  Eve

  “I love this song! Turn it up!” I bob my head to “21st Century Digital Boy” by Bad Religion while lounging in a super comfy black beanbag chair in Ryder’s room.

  As soon as Jonah dropped me off, Ryder let me in and dragged me to his room to check out his extensive music collection. I was expecting shelves lined with CDs, but this guy has a full-blown music database on his computer that’s hooked up to one of the most intricate sound systems I’ve ever seen.

  Ryder drums to the beat on his bed with actual drumsticks while I’m slumped into a beanbag chair, foot tapping, and singing into my thumb. I haven’t been here long, but I’m slowly feeling my buzz recede and hope I’m sober by the time Cameron gets home to avoid making a complete ass out of myself.

  “Do you like Alkaline Trio?” Ryder yells over the blaring music.

  “Love them!”

  He leans over and moves the mouse, clicks, and “I Wanna Be a Warhol” comes screaming through the speakers. I close my eyes, sing, and smile at how easy it is to get lost in a good song. I have a shitty voice, but damn if belting out the words to a song doesn’t make me feel like Celine Dion.

  “Eve, guitar solo!” Ryder smiles big, his hair isn’t all spiked out today, and he’s not wearing any of the eyeliner that I’ve seen on him in the past. He looks a lot like his mom, almost pretty, but with a rugged edge that is all Cameron.

  I roll out of my beanbag cocoon and jump to my feet, air guitar hands in place.

  “Here it comes! You ready?”

  “Yeah, dude!” I nod and motion to my invisible guitar. “Can’t you see?”

  He laughs but doesn’t break the constant beat with the sticks. The guitar solo rings through the speakers and I shred it out on my air guitar. Knees bent, arms straight, and leaning back like I’m Flea from the Chili Peppers, I jump up on the bed, grateful that I’d slipped off my shoes earlier, and bounce while jamming out, air guitar flying, to finish off the song with everything I have left. As the last chord rings out, I drop to the bed, breathing hard and laughing my ass off.

  Damn, that was fun.

  “Good job, punk rock girl.”

  I hold up one hand and bring my thumb to my lips. “You’ve been a great crowd, Las Vegas. Thank you and good night.” I swing my arm to dangle my fist off the bed then open my hand to mimic my dropping of the mic.

  The deep sound of Ryder’s laugh fills the room but is abruptly cut off.

  “What the fuck’s going on in here?”

  I push up on my elbows to find Cameron standing in the doorway, his jaw hard, muscles bulging, fists clenched. I cringe away from his hard glare.

  “Listening to some music.” Ryder drops his drumsticks, and now I can see there’s something else he’s inherited from his father. His scowl. And it’s pointed directly at his dad. “What did you think was going on?”

  Wait. Finally sobering up a little, my brain kick-starts and realization dawns.

  “Hold on.” I roll off the bed and stand between where Ryder’s sitting and Cameron’s standing. I turn my gaze to the doorway. “I came over to see you, but you weren’t home, so we’ve been hanging out waiting until you got here.”

  “Eve, my room. Now.” His eye
s fix on Ryder. “Need to have a word with my son. Then I’ll have a word with you.”

  I rest a hand on my cocked hip. “Are you pissed?”

  “I come home and you and my boy are in his room with the door shut, and you’re lying on his bed, breathing like you just ran a marathon. What do you think?”

  “Holy shit, Dad, are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Eve, go.”

  “I was playing air guitar and jumping on the bed!” Anger flares in my blood.

  “I fucking told you, woman, go to my room. Now!” He roars in my face, which only escalates my anger.

  “Stop treating me like a child!”

  “Stop acting like one.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not my dad!”

  “Yes, and thank fuck for that.”

  I sway back on my heels, blood drains from my head, and I get dizzy. “What?”

  He drops his chin and shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No, I know exactly what you meant.” I head to the door of Ryder’s bedroom. “Bye, Ryder.”

  “Later, Eve.”

  I move to slip by Cameron, but he snags my upper arm. “Please.” He doesn’t look at me. “Stay.”

  I don’t say anything. Truth is I have no way to get home, and if I’m being honest, I really don’t want to leave. Yes, what he said was shitty. What he’s assuming and accusing me of is even shittier, and what he said about the whole dad thing was the absolute shittiest. And even still, I want to stay.

  “Ryder, man, I’m sorry.”

  I blink up at Cameron, who’s fixed on his son. His expression has relaxed some, and if I’m not mistaken, I’d say there’s regret in his eyes.

  “Whatever, Dad.”

  Cameron mumbles a string of curse words under his breath, before addressing his son again. “Long night. Birthday coming up. Lost it.”

  It’s then I see Ryder’s expression soften. Something Cameron said spoke to him, but what was it? Birthday maybe?

  “Right, I understand. It’s cool.” He pushes up and moves to his computer, giving us his back, and then grabs a set of keys. “I’m going out.”

  At Ryder’s dismissal, Cameron tugs my arm and guides me to his bedroom. He shuts the door behind us and leads me to his bed where he deposits me. I sit cross-legged and stare at him as he stares back from his standing position at the edge.

 

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