I was beginning to feel more comfortable. Maybe he didn’t recognize my voice after all. Dennis was always telling me that I had an over-active imagination. I just had read something into one little comment. Maybe peach was his favorite ice cream.
“You’re building those condominiums downtown. One of them is going to be called The Colony.”
Pride washed over his face and he leaned a little closer to me. “That’s my baby, Emily. I brought in German investors for that one. It’s going to be beautiful. Imagine it: two towers, six-hundred units. It’s geared to be part of the community, perfect for artists. The first two floors will be boutiques, galleries, and cafes. In fact, we might be commissioning a painter to have a permanent display in the lobby.” He whispered, “I’d tell you who, but then I’d have to kill you. Some of the condos will have studio space. They’re perfect.”
“How much will they cost?”
The look on his face reminded me of the Cheshire Cat. That cat scared me when I was little, and to tell the truth, he still creeped me out. Jim was smiling at me in that same bat-shit crazy way. Obviously, money made him deliriously happy. “Six hundred thousand is the median price.”
“So you think the artists living downtown can afford that?”
I knew he wanted to interrupt, me but I wasn’t going to give him an opportunity.
“When I first moved downtown, it was a scary place to be.”
He nodded. “Things change.”
“People changed it. People like my friend Craig. The reason that downtown’s cool and a center for the arts right now is because people came in and did a lot of hard work. Three or four of the galleries are co-oped and rented by the artists for gallery space. The restaurants, cafés, and bars do everything they can to support artist and musicians, especially if they’re new. They’re really involved in the community.”
He nodded. “One of the biggest selling points. People like to live in artsy neighborhoods. They think it’s all going to rub off on them like pixie dust.”
“Well, the people who make downtown great can’t afford those condos. Plus they’re being built on the very place some of those shops and galleries are. They aren’t going to be able to stay. Take Craig; he doesn’t own the building he’s in. He could lose his business. He loves it and works hard. It’s been his dream. Most of those places aren’t going to make it.”
“And new businesses and new artists will move in. Ones who can afford it. A new stage of development begins. It happens all the time. People like your friend come into a neighborhood, and they make it better — and that’s just how it goes.”
“It won’t be better. It’s just going to be more exclusive. Exclusive isn’t better.”
“It is in my business. Your friend Craig and the people who made downtown what it is will move on to another neighborhood and revitalize again.”
“And then that neighborhood’s taken away from them. It’s not fair.”
“Darlin’, life’s not fair.” He sucked back whatever was left in his glass and motioned for another drink. “Look at me, Emily. To the casual observer it would seem I have everything. I’m successful; I have a beautiful home, a family. I belong to the best clubs in the city; my kids go to the best schools; I drive an expensive car. I have it all, and the truth is, I’m probably the most miserable man you’ve ever met.”
In that moment he looked the part. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. My heart went out to Jim. I even reached out and held his hand. “It can’t be that bad.”
He gave my hand a squeeze. “Oh yeah? I can remember the day I met my wife. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. We were on a sailboat. I remember thinking that day that I was going to marry her. We were happy for a while; then, one day, she just stopped loving me. I didn’t stop loving her, though. For years I kept right on. I’d have done anything to win her back. I tried to figure out what happened, what I did wrong. Then, one day, I woke up, looked at her, and felt nothing. I didn’t love her anymore. I didn’t care about her. In fact, now, on a good day, I look at her and feel numb. Most days she makes my blood curdle. Looking at her makes me angry.”
“Then why are you still married? If she makes you miserable, I don’t understand why you stay.” Finally Emily got to say what Peyton had been itching to blurt out for months.
“It’s not so easy. I have to get my house in order. That’s what tonight’s all about. You see, I’m not letting her get what I worked hard for. She didn’t make the sacrifices that I made. She doesn’t deserve half of everything I have. She made my life a living hell for years with her constant screaming and bitching. I’m not going to reward that.” He squeezed my hand again. “I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t mean to lay all that on you. Sometimes just talking to a stranger helps.”
Like I didn’t know all about that; I’d made a career of it. “I don’t mind. I hope it works out for you, Jim. I really do.”
“I bet you do. You seem like a real sweet girl.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to me. “Why don’t you call me sometime? I’ll tell you how it all turns out. I didn’t mean to keep you here for so long.”
He was sad and wallowing in a big stinky pile of self-pity. I felt bad about leaving him there, but not bad enough to stay. I wanted to get the hell out of there and I wasn’t missing my chance. “I’ve got to get going.”
He stood up and took my hand. “Let me walk you to your car.”
It was awkward when we got to my car. I certainly wasn’t going to kiss him good-night. “Thank you for the drinks and for getting my purse for me. I’ll call you. To see how the story ends, I mean.”
There was no way I was ever going to dial that number.
Jim put both of his hands against the car, pinning me between his arms. “I tell you what, Peyton, how about I call you.”
I could feel the blood rushing all the way up to my ears. In fact I was pretty sure that my earlobes were visibly pulsating from the way they were throbbing.
“What did you call me?”
“You heard me, Peyton. All those intimate conversations we’ve had? I’d know your voice anywhere. You whisper to me in my sleep.” He looked me up and down. “Now you don’t look like the Peyton I know, but there’s no doubt in my mind. You’re my little peach. I know that we said we’d talk at midnight — but I think I’ll be a little late. I’ve got one more thing to attend to; then you and I are going to have a nice little chat about what we do from here.”
My voice wasn’t the only part of me quivering. I’d been reduced to wiggly Jell-O, and not in the fun way. “I don’t think we should.”
“What you think really doesn’t matter, Emily. You see, I hold the cards right now. What I think and what I want are the only things important to either of us. I gave the bartender my cell phone and he took a few pictures of us talking. I can send those to your boss. You’ll lose your job.”
I started to speak, but he hushed me immediately. “Now with that sweet little voice, you can get another job. I know that. But unless you and I come to an agreement, I’m going to ruin your boss. She’s a real nice lady; I’ve talked to her a few times. I’d hate to take away her business, but I will unless you do exactly what I tell you to do.”
Somehow I got control of myself. I stopped shaking, if only for a second. “You can’t do that.”
“I can, Emily. I don’t want to, but I can and I will. You see, I’ve done thousands of dollars of business with her company over the years, and I’m going to demand all of that back. Since I’ve discovered that you are not my little dream girl, she’ll have to give it to me. Then I’ll go on every website that she advertises on, and I’ll do a little advertising of my own. I’ll make sure everyone knows what a sham her company is. You’re not the girl in the picture ,but I know you’re Peyton. I have to assume the other girls on the site are frauds too. She’ll end up going out of business. Now, you seem like the kind of girl who wouldn’t let that happen. It’s not fair for her to pay for your mistake, is it Emily?�
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“I don’t have any money or anything to give you.”
“Oh, I don’t want money. I want you.”
My ears were still pulsating and I felt my face grow cold. I probably looked like a corpse. I certainly felt like one.
“I was thinking that we could get together. I promise, Emily, it’s not going to be bad. We’ll go to a nice hotel, we’ll have a little wine, we’ll spend a few hours together. You’ll do some of the things we’ve been talking about. Granted, you’re not my type. I don’t usually like fat girls, but in your case I’ll make an exception.”
He kissed me softly on the cheek, then whispered in my ear, “Emily, you’d be so pretty if you just lost weight. You should think about that.”
“Jim.”
A man stood by the door. I’d never been so happy to see someone in all my life, even though he wasn’t anything but a blob in the darkness.
“I hate to leave you like this, Peach, but duty calls. I suggest you go home and wait for that phone to ring.”
I waited until he was inside the building before I got inside my car. It took me three tries to get the keys in the ignition. I wasn’t sure how I got home. I assume that my guardian angel was doing the actual driving. Under the best of circumstances, I’m a rotten driver. I couldn’t imagine what I was like after being accosted by some reptilian he-beast with sexual blackmail on his mind.
Once I was home, I sat in front of the toilet, waiting to vomit. I knew a good spew might make me feel a little better. It just wasn’t happening, and I’ve never been one of those girls who could handle putting her finger down her throat. So I sat there in vain, trying to think of a way out.
Of course, there was no way I was going to do it. I was so scared and I wanted to call someone, but what would I say? Hey Dennis, yeah, remember that Jim Alexander guy — the one who calls Peyton and is going to ruin your lover’s dream? I went on a date knowing he would be at the same place, and he figured out who I was! Now he’s going to destroy my boss if I don’t meet him in a hotel and perform acts that really can be performed only by trapeze artists and lesbian circus clowns. What do you think I should do?
Not an option.
And that “What would Peyton do” thing? Yeah, that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.
In fact, the only thing I could really do was wait for Jim to call. He’d been drunk and angry at his wife. He was probably mad at me too for not being Peyton. In a few hours he might be more reasonable. The man I met tonight was a monster. The guy that talked to Peyton wasn’t, and that was the man I had to reach. I had to make him understand, and I would. Deep down inside, he liked Peyton. Since I was her, he had to like me, too. He could be reasoned with.
That’s what I kept repeating to myself for hours until I finally fell asleep.
The phone never rang.
Chapter Ten
Sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring is something a girl should never do. It says so in all those “get better self-esteem” books. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I didn’t have a lot of choices. It was little consolation that I wasn’t waiting for Mr. Right to call. I was waiting for Mr. Soul-Sucking Demon to phone in his blackmail attempt. I waited for three straight days. I stayed in the house, skipped my classes, and stared at the phone. Nothing happened. The phone rang, it just wasn’t him.
I was a nervous wreck. I did the one thing I didn’t want to do. I decided to tell Dennis. I knew there’d be a lecture but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, and this wasn’t one of those things I could call my Mom about. Besides, Dennis’s lectures came with solutions. It was the one beautiful thing about them. Sure, his speech would be peppered with expletives, and there would be liberal use of the term “dumb-ass,” but in the end, there’d be an answer. That’s the way it worked. Always.
He could out-sinister anyone, and he’d get me out of this. Jim wouldn’t have a chance against Dennis. He’d know what to do.
When I called him, he told me he was having breakfast with Craig at his cabaret. I set out to join them immediately, looking over my shoulder the entire way. I was worried that Jim might have hoods snatch me off the street. Paranoia had taken over my world.
Craig gasped and pulled me inside. “Look at you! Den, look at her!”
Dennis put down the paper and stared at me. “I’m shocked. Emmie. I just told you to get a haircut and some jeans. You really went all out. I can’t believe you listened to me. It’s a first.”
Craig hugged me tightly. “Emmie, you look beautiful. Are you hungry? Let me get you some breakfast.”
Breakfast sounded good. I wanted a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs and just leave the box right on the table, please. When I ran out of milk I’d eat them dry. “Some fruit would be nice.” I hated settling for something healthy when I was upset.
Dennis smiled. “Good girl. You wanted something else, what — Honeycombs? Lucky Charms?”
I sat down. “Cocoa Puffs.” What was he thinking? I hated Lucky Charms.
“Ahh, chocolate. I knew something was bothering you. Spill it.”
“Just because I have a craving for Cocoa Puffs doesn’t mean something’s bothering me. I like chocolate.” Of course something was bothering me, and I did need to spill it. I just hate it when he’s right about everything. Plus, this was going to be the worst lecture I ever received, because I really deserved it.
“You only go for the chocolate when it’s that time of month, or when you’re upset about something. If it’s that time of month, keep it to yourself. Frankly, knowing all your female stuff makes me feel all bloated and irritable. I think something’s bothering you. That would explain the panicked phone call this morning. Just tell me what’s going on. Let’s not waste time.”
“Why is Craig calling me Emmie? Only you call me Emmie. You two are way more serious than you told me you were; otherwise I’d still be Emily. When were you going to tell me about that?”
When forced with the inevitable, it's always best to stall.
“We aren’t talking about Craig and me.”
“So what are we talking about?” Craig came from the kitchen carrying a bowl of strawberries, blackberries, and watermelon.
“Thanks Craig.” I dove into the bowl immediately.
Craig sat next to Dennis. “So Emmie, what’s up? Dennis said you sounded a little stressed on the phone. Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath. It was best to get it all out as fast as possible. “I had a date on Friday night.”
Craig grabbed my hand. “Honey, don’t stress about that! That’s good news! Was it with the History Hottie? Please tell me it was. Unless you have a new guy. See what happens when you spruce yourself up a little bit? All the boys notice.”
The History Hottie? He knew about Rick? My life was the subject of their pillow talk? Ewww.
I nodded. “It was with the History Hottie. Rick and I went to The Alibi for dinner.”
Craig inched his chair closer to me. “Tell me all about it. What did you wear?”
I’d just found my new best girlfriend.
“I wore a green dress. It’s so cute and sassy—”
Dennis raised his voice. “And?”
Craig shot him a withering glance. “I want to hear about the date.”
“I had a really nice time. I didn’t spill anything!”
“Did he kiss you?”
I felt my cheeks go red. Even with all that happened afterward, I still remembered how dreamy Rick was. “Yeah, he kissed me. It was incredible. We were standing by my car, and the moon was full and his lips—”
“Was there a crew from Lifetime filming everything? We can wait for the movie.” Dennis was getting more irritated by the minute. He had no patience for romance or girls that got all gooey when talking about moonlight kisses.
Craig rolled his eyes. “Some people just aren’t romantics like we are, Emmie. It’s really too bad, because they’re missing a lot in life with their sour attitude. Tell me more.”
I could have gone on at great length about how Rick tasted like chocolate chip ice cream and how it was perhaps the dreamiest kiss ever, but there was a bigger issue at hand. Dennis’s neck vein was bulging and might explode if I didn’t get to the point. I didn’t want to cause my best friend’s brain aneurism.
“It’s what happened after the date that I wanted to talk about. Dennis, don’t yell at me.”
Craig answered, “He won’t yell.”
Dennis arched an eyebrow. “I might yell.” Craig was scowling at him. “I can’t promise I won’t yell, because I might. It depends if she did something stupid. We all know I’ll yell if she did something dumb.”
“Before Rick called and asked me out, Peyton was talking to Jim Alexander-”
Craig was disgusted. “I always knew he was hiding some perversion. Why do you talk to him? He’s horrible. All the things he’s doing to ruin downtown—” He shut up when he caught Dennis glaring at him.
Okay, so Craig knew about my job and that Jim was one of my customers. It was one less thing I had to explain.
“Jim told Peyton that he was going to go to The Alibi for a business meeting, and then Rick called and wanted to go there for dinner. The lasagna is good there and, really, what was going to happen? I mean Jim doesn’t know me, he knows Peyton. So—”
Dennis raised his voice. “And you couldn’t say, ‘Hey Rick, let’s go out for Chinese instead’?”
Craig interrupted him. “No yelling.”
Once Mount St. Dennis started erupting, there was no going back.
“Emmie, what were you thinking?”
Craig tried to defuse the situation. “She was thinking, ‘Hey, they have good lasagna.’ Honestly, Dennis, have you ever eaten there? The lasagna is heaven.”
“Don’t you see where this is going? Alexander figured out she was the girl he’s been talking nasty to, right, Emily?”
I nodded. “He did. I left my purse, and he was holding it when I got back to the bar. He asked me to have a drink with him because he was a hero for finding my purse. And then he said peach was his favorite ice cream.”
Phone Kitten: A Cozy, Romantic, and Highly Humorous Mystery Page 7