Love Inc.

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Love Inc. Page 24

by Yvonne Collins


  We take turns peeking through the crack between the curtain and the wall.

  Hollis is standing in front of the mirror in a long, low-cut sapphire blue dress accessorized by white elbow-length gloves and a chunky blue rhinestone bracelet. The look is vintage and elegant, but the ugly still shines through.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ Hollis asks.

  ‘You look amazing,’ a guy says. The voice isn’t Fletcher’s.

  ‘She wasn’t asking you, skidmark.’ That was Fletcher.

  ‘I’m not hitting on your girl,’ the stranger says. ‘It’s a nice dress, that’s all.’

  The bell jingles again, and Kali, whose eye is to the crack, says, ‘Smart guy. He left.’

  ‘The gloves are stupid,’ Fletcher says.

  ‘But I want to look old-school jazz for the gig,’ Hollis says.

  Fletcher laughs. ‘Gig? Your gay little band is doing one song and you call it a gig? That is sad.’

  ‘It is sad,’ Kali whispers. She’s disgruntled and I don’t blame her. Kali’s studied music for years, whereas Hollis seems to have become a jazz singer overnight.

  ‘It’s two songs,’ Hollis says. ‘I know it isn’t the Bass Concert Hall, but sometimes music promoters check out events like this.’

  ‘Who says? Bronco?’ Fletcher scoffs. ‘You need talent to get noticed. Or at least you need to be hot.’

  ‘That’s just mean,’ I whisper. Even if she’s deluding herself, he should be supporting her dream. He’s her boyfriend.

  ‘He’s jealous because that guy told her she looked great,’ Kali says, stepping aside so I can look.

  Hollis seems to have shrunk in her dress. ‘You used to think I was hot.’

  ‘Hot for high school isn’t the same as hot in the real world,’ Fletcher says. ‘Like Rihanna or something.’

  ‘You don’t think I look good in this dress?’ she presses.

  Fletcher sighs. ‘If you want the truth, you look like a skank in that dress.’

  Syd, Kali, and I glance at each other, and without a word passing between us, decide this has gone far enough.

  Kali pulls back the curtain with a flourish, and we tumble out of the tiny room.

  ‘Buy the dress,’ I tell Hollis. ‘It looks amazing on you.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Kali says. ‘It’s a knockout.’

  Hollis’s expression seems to morph from gratitude to embarrassment to hatred, all in a matter of seconds.

  ‘Wow, Hollis,’ Fletcher says. ‘The lesbians think you look hot. Wonder what they were up to in there.’

  Hollis smiles, and I know Fletcher has won again. ‘I have seen that one’ – she points at Syd – ‘checking me out in the locker room at school.’

  ‘True,’ Syd says. ‘I was looking for horns and a tail.’

  Twice we have extended an olive branch to Hollis; twice she’s fed it through the wood chipper. We turn back to the fitting room.

  ‘Can you believe that guy?’ Kali whispers, closing the curtain. ‘Hollis is a bitch, but I wish she’d hire us for a slam.’

  ‘We could do it for free,’ I say. ‘Under the category of public service.’

  To my surprise, it’s Syd who dismisses the idea. ‘We’re better off using our energy on paying clients. We can’t save Hollis until she saves herself.’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ I say. ‘If we ran around slamming every goof who insulted us, we’d be exhausted and broke.’

  We’re still changing when the curtain is yanked open. Already in my jeans, I clutch my T-shirt to my chest. Syd is wearing only an old bowling shirt with the name ‘Stanley’ embroidered on the front, while Kali sports a hot pink petticoat and a bra.

  Syd grabs a pair of white go-go boots off the floor and fires them at Fletcher. He dodges the first, but the heel of the second hits him so hard in the temple that a human would pass out. Fletcher just laughs.

  ‘Nice way to treat someone who’s offering to help you out,’ he says.

  ‘Help us how?’ I ask, peering around and finding Hollis combing the racks for something Fletcher will approve of.

  He stares at Kali’s chest. ‘A 34C, right?’

  Kali tries to close the curtain, and Fletcher holds it open.

  ‘Hollis says you three are going through a rough time at home with your dads all taking off,’ Fletcher says. ‘I want you to know I’m available.’

  ‘To what, mow the lawn?’ Kali says.

  ‘To keep the cougar population under control.’ He leers at Kali’s chest again. ‘I bet your moms are pretty hot.’

  Kali’s hand slips off the curtain and she turns to me. ‘Did he really just say that?’

  Hollis comes back and sees us in various stages of undress. ‘Oh my God, you guys are pathetic. How many times do I have to tell you Fletcher is taken?’

  I pull the curtain, and Syd turns to kick the wall with her bare foot. ‘That jerk is going down.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘I keep having these dreams,’ Evan says. ‘I’m living in my old tree fort, in our backyard. Then one day, I try to go back into the house and the door’s locked. My key doesn’t work either, so I ring the doorbell, and when the door opens, Darth Vader’s standing there saying he’s moved in and my parents have moved out, leaving no forwarding address.’

  Dieter slides to the edge of his seat, eager to analyze, but he lets us take a first crack at it. ‘Does anyone have ideas about what Evan’s dream might mean?’

  Kali gives it a shot. ‘You’re worried about your parents moving on with their lives. Last week, you said your dad is moving to San Antonio and your mom has a new boyfriend.’

  Evan nods. ‘So you’re saying Mom’s new guy is Darth?’ He cups a hand to his mouth and breathes like Darth Vader. ‘Shhhhh … Evan. Shhhh. I am your stepfather.’

  We all laugh, and Dieter lets us get it out of our system before saying, ‘Anyone have anything to add?’

  I raise my hand. ‘Maybe these dreams are telling you that you’re afraid of being left behind by your parents – abandoned.’

  ‘But what does Darth Vader mean?’ Evan asks.

  ‘That you’re obsessed with Star Wars?’ Syd says.

  Dieter gives her the avatar stare before weighing in. ‘At our first session I said you’d need to focus on moving on with your lives. Evan, let’s talk about what steps you’ve been taking to do that.’

  Evan stares at his hands and twists a leather bracelet around his wrist. ‘I’m not, I guess. I’m in a rut.’

  ‘It’s natural to want to cling to the familiar,’ Dieter says.

  ‘And it sucks when our parents are the ones changing,’ Kali says, taking her lip gloss out of her pocket to slick on a fresh coat. ‘They should have it all figured out by now.’

  ‘Parents are only human,’ Dieter says.

  ‘Maybe, but this is supposed to be our time,’ Syd says.

  Lauren taps Evan on the knee to get his attention. ‘You need to do your own thing and forget about your parents for a while. Try something new.’

  ‘Do something completely outside your comfort zone,’ I suggest. ‘Trust me, it will make you feel great – like you’re ready to take on the world.’

  ‘Like what?’ Evan says.

  ‘Like get a dirt tattoo,’ Simon says, pointing to my arm where the faded henna can still be seen at the edge of my T-shirt. ‘That’s living on the edge.’

  ‘I bet I’ve pushed more boundaries than you have,’ I tell Simon.

  ‘This isn’t a competition,’ Dieter says. ‘But you’re absolutely right. Getting out of your comfort zones is a great idea. That’s why I recently started to run a team-building ropes course. It’s mostly for my Family Therapy group, but I’d like all of you to take it next session.’

  ‘Ropes?’ I say. ‘If it involves hanging from them, forget it. I don’t do heights.’

  ‘It’s completely safe,’ Dieter says. ‘And the more nervous you are, the more you get out of it.’

  ‘I don’t
know,’ Lauren says, getting out her compact. ‘It sounds messy.’

  ‘It can be,’ Dieter says, packing up his briefcase and heading for the door. ‘Still, rain or shine, attendance is mandatory.’

  ‘Wait,’ Simon calls after him. ‘Can I tell you about my recurring dream? It involves two cheerleaders.’

  ‘No,’ Dieter says, without slowing down.

  ‘You didn’t get a chance to mention your nightmares about Eric,’ Kali says.

  ‘I think they’re done,’ I say. ‘The last one was right after the Maternity Ward party, and it featured Eric getting pecked to death by a flock of wild parrots.’

  ‘That’s not a nightmare,’ Syd says. ‘That’s a beautiful dream.’

  We walk out of the church together and find Trey waiting for Lauren at the bottom of the steps. Unfortunately, he’s not alone. The blond giant at his side looks up at me and says, ‘Olivia?’

  It’s Andrew, the guy Syd and I scammed at Trey’s touch football team. This is definitely going to be awkward.

  ‘Don’t you remember me from the football game?’ he says. ‘You—’

  ‘Hey, babe,’ Lauren interrupts, pushing past us and racing down the stairs to clutch Trey’s arm.

  Andrew’s face is a study in confusion as he processes the incoming information. ‘But you were – Do you already know Lauren?’

  Trey explains to his friend that Syd and I were doing Lauren a favor by trailing him for a weekend. Better yet, he gallantly takes the blame by admitting he hadn’t been honest with Lauren about his diving. ‘You know how girls look out for each other,’ he says. ‘So, Andrew, meet Zahra and Syd.’

  We join them on the path and introduce Kali.

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t be honest with you,’ I say.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Andrew says. ‘I like a girl who can BS a little – as long as it’s for a good cause.’

  Lauren kisses Trey’s cheek and says, ‘A very good cause.’

  Andrew smiles at me and says, ‘Then how about using the phone number I gave you?’

  Syd opens our meeting in the trailer by bringing up the one case that doesn’t pay. ‘Word in the weight room is that Fletch likes to play dirty. Really dirty.’

  Stains is surprisingly well-connected, and to thank him for his undercover work, we’ve given him free movie passes and DVDs from our stash.

  ‘It’s not just that Fletcher’s brutal with the opposition,’ Syd continues. ‘There are rumors that he’s taking out the competition within his own team.’

  Apparently, the Maroons’ previous noseguards dropped like flies until Fletcher landed the position. The first guy got kicked off the team because Coach found steroids in his locker. Same thing with the next guy, only this time it was booze. Then Fletcher’s immediate predecessor missed three games because of an illness that mysteriously struck on game days. In fact, the only three guys who’ve been kicked off the team in the past year have all been noseguards. Now that Fletcher’s in place, the turnover has ceased.

  ‘That can’t be a coincidence,’ Kali says, handing me the packing tape so I can finish wrapping up a DVD player, which is ready to be shipped to the highest eBay bidder. ‘But how can we prove anything?’

  ‘We can’t,’ Syd says. ‘All we can do is watch and wait.’

  College scouts are scheduled to attend some upcoming Maroons games, and Stains predicts Fletcher will strike again. Although the scouts focus on the seniors, they also check out the up-and-comers, and Fletcher will want as much field time as possible.

  ‘The Maroons have a couple of strong defense players,’ Syd says. ‘It’s entirely possible that Fletch will sideline one or two of them before the big games.’

  ‘All we have to do is catch him in the act,’ Kali says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

  ‘And once we have evidence he’s been screwing over his teammates, they’ll slam him for us,’ Syd says.

  ‘Score!’ Kali says. ‘I love it when a plan comes together.’

  I think I just missed the actual plan, but I’m sure my genius partners will put more meat on the bones soon.

  In the meantime, I have more pressing concerns. ‘Snack time,’ I say, pulling a container out of my bag.

  ‘Have mercy,’ Syd moans.

  I’ve continued to test recipes for René’s healthy eating promo, which he’s decided to run during Christmas season. Despite the extra time to prepare, my results have been dismal. It’s like I lost my baking mojo, and I blame Love, Inc. for that. Baking is such a precise craft. If you don’t add exactly the right amount of each ingredient, you ruin the result. It’s black and white. But the more jobs I do for Love, Inc., the more I learn that life isn’t black and white. It’s more like Syd’s graffiti – a canvas of wild colors. That idea seems to have spilt over into the kitchen. I used to stick to the essential rules of baking, but lately, I’ve traded in my measuring cups for a more organic approach. If I add something sweet, I offset it with spice. If I add something wet, I balance it with something dry. No measuring. No rules. And while that approach works in our business, it’s wreaked havoc on my baking. In the end, I had to take it back to basics.

  ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘These are different: apple-maple crunch squares.’

  ‘Let Fletcher use them in his campaign of death,’ Syd says, waving them away.

  Even Kali protests as I serve her a square. ‘Do I have to, Z? To be honest, low-fat isn’t your calling.’

  ‘I’ve cracked it this time, I promise,’ I say. ‘If you taste these, I’ll bake caramel brownies for our next meeting.’

  Kali takes a tiny bite, chews slowly, and swallows. Finally, the verdict: ‘By George, I think she’s done it.’

  ‘You’d better not be bluffing,’ Syd says, taking an even tinier bite of a square. After a moment, she polishes off the rest of it. ‘OK, these are keepers.’

  It’s a relief to hear. I’ve been worried because Love, Inc.’s growing popularity hasn’t left me with much downtime to experiment. Even with our referral policy, it’s getting harder to keep up with the demand for our services. We all know we should turn down some requests, but we can never agree on which ones. The cases that look quick and dirty often take more time than we expected, and that means the lines are becoming blurred on who does what.

  One thing we do agree on is that we like the money. Kali has enough for a decent guitar and private lessons. Syd is starting to fill the hole her dad made in her college fund. And my Sweet Tooth start-up account is growing nicely. Money makes us all feel like we have control over our lives. The more we have, the less we’ll need our parents.

  But money isn’t the whole story. I know I’m not the only one who feels the buzz that comes from working together to help people. Plus, it’s the first time I’ve excelled at something outside the kitchen.

  The only downside is the pressure not to disappoint a single client. It’s a lot of responsibility, when I still have to work, keep my grades up, and visit Mom’s regularly. I can’t risk setting off any alarms.

  Kali and Syd are spread equally thin. This week something had to give and we decided it was Dieter’s ropes course.

  ‘He won’t call our parents,’ Kali says. ‘Dieter’s all talk. He’s always lecturing us to take responsibility and move on with our lives. That’s exactly what we’re doing, even without his stupid exercises.’

  ‘It isn’t even a regular session,’ Syd says. ‘And I’ve got to admit I’m glad I won’t have to talk about how my mom broke her wrist falling off Dwayne’s horse.’

  Kali and I try not to laugh, but Syd’s grin is permission.

  ‘Then she dumped Dwayne because he didn’t sit holding her good hand for six hours in Emergency,’ she says. ‘And guess who had to pick up the slack? If that’s not taking responsibility, I don’t know what is.’

  ‘My mom’s still dating that Xavier guy,’ I say. ‘And Dad’s out more than ever. We think he’s seeing someone at work.’

  ‘D-I-V-O-R-C-E,’ Kali sings,
and picks up her guitar. ‘May-king parents cra-a-zy.’

  Syd bends over to pat Banksy. ‘Come on, boy, that’s our cue to leave.’ Banksy barely stirs, and Syd’s brow creases with worry. ‘He’s a little under the weather. Maybe he ate something nasty in the park this morning.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave him to rest while you meet your client?’ I ask. ‘I’m going to do my homework here before meeting mine in a couple of hours.’

  Syd hesitates. She rarely goes anywhere without Banksy. ‘Well, OK. But call me if he barfs or anything.’

  ‘Definitely.’ I’m glad she trusts me enough to look after him.

  Syd plants a kiss on Banksy’s head and sets off.

  Once Syd clears the trailer, Kali tells me about her newest crush, a guy she met at a Clean Water rally. ‘He’s way cuter than the goof from my guitar class, and we obviously share the same values. He was hanging with some people I know, so I should be able to get his number. And unlike some people, I won’t be afraid to use it.’

  It’s a dig at me for not calling Andrew yet. I’ll admit, I’ve been thinking about it, but before I get involved with anyone new, I want to know he’s seriously interested. Andrew is flirty, which proves nothing. If he’s into me, let him track me down.

  Kali’s phone starts to ring. ‘It’s Luke,’ she says, checking call display. ‘He’s reporting in on the wedding.’ Trish ended up the final winner, once Kali discovered that she’s a vegan and a leader in school recycling. ‘Hey, Luke, how fabulous was it?’

  Kali’s grin fades fast as she listens to Luke talk … and talk … and talk. Sinking back on the bench, she stares straight ahead.

  ‘But Luke, I don’t understand,’ she says. ‘You and Trisha passed every test and you liked her when you met for coffee. Everything should have been perfect.’ He complains some more. ‘I know you’re upset, but please don’t call my matchmaking program a piece of crap. No questionnaire can predict that someone will get drunk at a wedding. Or flirt with the groom.’

  I cringe, and Kali mouths, ‘It gets worse.’

  ‘She called the groom “Simon” and made a toast to his hot ass?’ Kali asks. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke. Simon’s her ex. She seemed ready to date again, but I guess the bubbly brought up old memories. But no real harm done, right? Why don’t I send some flowers to the happy couple and sign your name? Stop by the trailer next week and I can look through my roster for someone new—’

 

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