by Gayla Twist
The paper is heading right at my face. I knock it out of the air so it doesn’t hit me. “Bitch,” I mutter, in spite of myself. I guess I say it a little too audibly because on her way out, Dahlia closes the door so loud it causes my bookshelves to tremble.
I lean forward and snatch the newspaper off the floor where it landed. Might as well see what Dahlia thought was so important. She has it folded open to a certain page. I scan it quickly and then realize, “Oh no...”
"Groom Has Marriage to Crazed Heiress Annulled,” is the headline that screams out at me. And there’s the classic photo of Chandra Lake in her wedding dress having a complete bridal meltdown at her Bouche reception.
I collapse back onto the couch, striking my head on the bookshelf with a good clip. It hurts, but I barely even notice. This is just awful. Poor Chandra. Yes, she is a spoiled brat with an extreme sense of entitlement, but she doesn’t deserve to have her marriage break up before it’s even begun.
Suddenly, there are tears in my eyes. I’d like to blame the whack I gave my head on the shelf, but I know it’s more than that. My cell rings, and I see it’s Trent’s office. Normally, reading this kind of name on my caller ID would start my heart to sing, but I can’t imagine Trent is calling to ask me on another date. It’s been my experience that once you knee a guy in the balls, he’s usually not that keen to take you out again. With some trepidation, I answer it. “Hello?”
“This is Linda from Mr. Winchell’s office calling for Sue,” I hear from the earpiece.
I am somewhat relieved because I’m sure by now Kiki has taken The Art of War information to Trent, and I’m really not eager to talk to him at this exact second. “Oh, hi, Linda. Yeah, it’s me. What’s going on?”
“Trent wants to see you first thing tomorrow, as soon as you get in,” she informs me.
“Great…” I say, although it’s anything but great. “Any idea what he wants?”
“No,” she says in a professional voice that leads me to believe that Trent is in the room with her. “He just said to tell you he wants to see you.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.” I end the call and then just let the phone slip out of my hand onto the rug. I flop back onto the couch, which apparently jiggles the bookshelf again. I don’t know if I hear a noise or see a shadow out of the corner of my eye or what, but I glance up and notice that another damn book has freed itself from the top shelf and is plummeting toward me. I catch a glimpse of the title as it falls, but it doesn’t make any sense because all I can glean is, The Tea.
“Not again.” I cringe just before I’m seeing stars.
Chapter 27
I have a black eye. It looks worse than it feels, but I haven’t been very successful covering it even with a pound of concealer. It’s completely embarrassing to walk around like an abused spouse, but there’s nothing I can do at the moment. It’s important that at some point in my life, I learn to dodge falling books instead of trying to make out their titles as they plummet toward my face. Or I could simply move the bookshelf away from the couch. That’s also a thought.
I head up to Trent’s office as soon as I arrive at work. Besides my feudal attempts with pancake makeup, I haven’t done any of my lip gloss grooming techniques, and I just have my hair in its traditional low bun. I know I should have taken some time to look good despite my black eye, but I just don’t have the energy.
“Good morning, Sue,” Linda greets me as I walk in the door. Then, after she catches a good look at my shiner, she adds, “Oh, my God!” Jumping to her feet, she hurries over to me. “Did somebody hit you?”
“No, I'm fine,” I assure her. “The universe just kind of decided to punch me in the head.”
Standing next to me, Linda says in a confidential tone, “Okay, listen. Before you go in to see Trent, there's something I need to tell you.”
I don’t know why, but her words make me more tired than I already am. “What?”
She glances toward the closed door of Trent’s office then says in a hushed voice, “I really should have said something sooner, but…” She glances at the door again before continuing, “There was never any threat of the Winchell being turned into condos.”
“What?” I say again but this time with a completely different inflection.
“Shhhh!” She glances at the door again before continuing. “Trent made all that up. He needed more money because... Well... He has a bit of a...” she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper, “gambling problem.”
“What?” I repeat for the third time, but this time it’s more of an exclamation.
“He just wanted Bouche to become more profitable so he can pay off his debts and hide it from his father.”
I am stunned. I am so stunned that I don’t even know what to say for several seconds. That rich little weasel has been torturing me and Kiki to pay off gambling debts so his daddy doesn’t find out? “Oh...” I finally force some words out of my mouth. “Well... thank you for telling me.”
Just then Linda’s intercom beeps. Trent’s voice says, “Linda, has Sue come in yet?”
“Guess you’d better get in there,” she tells me, and I force my feet toward the office door.
“Good morning, Sue,” Trent says, getting to his feet as I walk into his office. “You look lovely as usual.”
This comment makes me do a double take. Although his eyes are pointed in my direction, Trent obviously hasn’t really looked at me because the word “lovely” is not an accurate description of my appearance. For whatever reason, I find this embarrassing, and my hand flies to my black eye. “Oh... uh...” I mumble, unsure how to respond to such a false compliment.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night, and I’ve come to a decision, but now that I’m in Mr. Winchell’s actual office, I’m not sure if I can go through with it. But I have to. I have to steel my resolve and try. “Listen, Trent,” I begin.
“No, I'd like to say something first,” he interrupts me. For an instant, I think he’s going to yell at me about the games I’ve been playing in the kitchen, but he doesn’t look angry. Not at all. And it confuses me to the point that I don’t know what to say. I sit down in one of the guest chairs, and Trent continues. “If I'm totally honest, I never really thought much of you, you know, romantically.”
I guess that’s been pretty obvious for a long time, but it still stings hearing it come out of his mouth. “Gee... Thanks...?” I mumble.
Trent waves a hand at my general appearance. “I mean, you're cute and all, but you don't exactly project that you're going to be all that interesting in bed.”
Okay, that definitely wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. And quite frankly, not workplace appropriate. Not that what any of us have been doing is workplace appropriate, but still, a line has to be drawn somewhere. I start to get out of my chair, “I'd better get going.”
“No, but wait...” Trent holds his hand in the air in the stop gesture. I hover between sitting and standing, completely unsure of what he’s going to say next. “Kiki told me what you were doing,” Trent continues. “With that book. I mean, I can't believe you were using The Art of War to try to date me.”
Oh, God. He knows. If he knows, then every single person in the Winchell from the dishwashers to the chambermaids knows. I get fully to my feet, my head hanging low. I know I had my plan of action heading into his office, but being fired is so humiliating. “Yeah, I can't believe it either,” I say in a small voice.
“It's absolutely genius!” Trent breaks into a broad smile.
“Huh?” I look up, not trusting my own faculties.
“I have to admit,” Trent spreads both hands wide, “at first I was just using you to make Bouche more profitable.”
It is so weird hearing those words actually said out loud. I mean, it’s one thing to suspect it but another thing to hear Trent actually admit it. “Yeah, I guess that should have been obvious,” I tell him.
Trent comes around to the front of his desk, reaching for
my hand. “But now I'm just so flattered and impressed and totally hot for you.”
“What?” I yank my hand away from him.
Trent lowers his voice to the level of a sexy growl. “I never realized it before, but you've got the makings of a winner.” He reaches for my hand again, and I’m too stunned to pull away even though his touch makes my skin crawl. “Any woman who is willing to be that calculating and malicious just to land a guy is a woman I want to date.”
I’m way too shocked to say anything. Trent has his male-model smile plastered across his face, and suddenly I realize what it’s like to be a bird hypnotized by a snake.
Leaning closer, Trent slithers an arm around my waist. “So what do you say? Let's hit the islands and give this whole romance a try. I mean, a real try. You've earned it.” If at this moment a forked tongue flicked out of his mouth, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“But what about Kiki?” I ask. I didn’t want the rumors about the two of them to be true, but I have the horrible, weighty feeling that they are true.
“You won,” he says simply, smoothing aside a golden lock of hair and beaming at me. “You beat her. Dating me is your ultimate victory. It'll be you spiking the ball right in Kiki's face.”
I shake my head. “I can't do that.”
“Why not?” He peers into my face, supremely confident that he can coax me out of whatever reservations are holding me back.
“Because we should all ‘avoid aiming at the ruin of others.’”
“Huh?” The quote confuses Trent. “We should...” he tries to repeat it. “Is that from the war book?”
“No,” I say firmly. “It's from The Teachings of Buddha.”
Trent’s face registers surprise and confusion. “What's that supposed to even mean?” he says, sounding a bit cross, probably because I haven’t immediately melted into his arms.
I take a big breath, draw myself up, and say, “It means I quit.”
Chapter 28
“Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.” ~ Buddha
I have the entire Bouche staff gathered before me, both the front and the back of the house. Well, everyone but Kiki. She flat out refused to attend the meeting. What I have in mind is really hard to do, and I’d much rather just run away and never see any of these people again, but that would be as cowardly as a teenage boy breaking up with his girlfriend by just avoiding her in the hallways between classes for the rest of the year.
Making amends means being brave. So I clear my throat and begin. “I’ve just given Trent Winchell my notice, so I won’t be working here anymore,” I tell the crowd. “But before I go, I just want to apologize for using you. All of you. I know it was wrong. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope maybe you can, at least a little.”
There is silence, and I wish for the ability to just vanish into thin air.
“Is okay, Suzannah,” Paolo calls from the crowd, much to my surprise. “Is not so bad. Bouche, she does good, and we keep our jobs.”
I’m confused, and it must really show on my face because June adds, “Yeah, we were talking it over.” I lean forward, listening intently. “You kind of have a screw loose, and Bouche doesn't have a Thomas Van Dyke award or anything, but none of us got hurt. Not really. So… we forgive you.”
Gwenn, still looking vexed as a wet cat, adds, “But you still owe me for my dry cleaning.”
I am so impressed by the Bouche staff’s powers to forgive that it almost makes me cry. Maybe they really did think of me as a friend all along. But apologizing to them, however difficult, isn’t the biggest challenge of my day.
I find her behind the bar, typing away at the Bouche computer. “Kiki?” I say.
She barely glances in my direction. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize,” I say without preamble.
This makes Kiki suspicious. She narrows her eyes as she continues to gaze intently at the screen. “For what?”
“For everything,” I tell her. “I did some pretty mean things to you, and it wasn't right.”
“At least you did them with style,” she says with a little shrug. “I hate to admit it,” she continues, keeping her eyes glued to the computer, “but I sort of admire that you figured out how to use that book to land Trent. It's pretty genius.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“What?” She finally turns her gaze again in my direction.
“It's not genius,” I explain. “It's...” I search for the exact right word, “twisted.” I can see she isn’t following me, so I go on, just closing my eyes for a moment and then plunging forward. “I started this whole thing because I was tired of dating losers, and that’s such a pathetic reason for all the things I did.”
“Seriously?” she asks.
It’s weird telling my darkest secret to my closest enemy, but even if she doesn’t forgive me, I still want her to know the truth. “I wanted to find someone decent to love. Someone who actually has a few goals in life. Someone who would be good to me and love me back and not be just some giant man-child that I’m dating because I don’t feel like I have a choice.” I feel so foolish admitting all of it. “But you can't find love by using a book on war. That's just insane.”
“But it worked, didn't it?” Kiki cocks an eyebrow at me. “You got Trent, didn’t you? That’s what you wanted.”
“No, it didn't work,” I assure her. “And just so you know, Trent's no prize.”
“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I already had that part figured out.”
If she’s going to know the truth, she might as well know the whole truth, even if it stings. “He was playing us against each other to make Bouche more profitable so he could pay off his gambling debts.” She flinches slightly, so I know this is new information to her.
“That son of a bitch,” she says under her breath.
I reach out and squeeze her elbow. “You deserve better.”
Instead of pulling her arm away, Kiki softens a little. “So do you.”
“Not really,” I tell her.
“Sure you do.” Kiki gives me a don’t-be-stupid look. “But I didn't know you were doing all this because you wanted someone to love. If that’s what you’re doing, then I’ve got to tell you, you’re doing it wrong.”
“And you would know?” I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes.
“I know a little. I know that if you’re looking for love, you have to be smart about it.”
Normally, I wouldn’t take advice from Kiki under any circumstance, but I feel like we’re both putting our cards on the table, so I ask, “How?”
“Well, first of all, you don't let some stupid book tell you how to find love,” she informs me, as if I’m a complete idiot. “Especially a book on war. You just have to be yourself, get out there, and be open to it. Give love a chance to find you.”
This time, I really do roll my eyes. “Okay, no offense, Kiki, but that sounds pretty trite,” I can’t help but tell her. She doesn’t realize I’m a schmuck magnet. Putting myself out there just means attracting more schmucks. “I mean, seriously, have you ever been in love?”
She turns her eyes away from me and nods her head the tiniest bit. “Once.”
This is a complete surprise to me. I mean, seriously? I didn’t even know love was a word in Kiki’s emotional vocabulary. “Really?” I’m a bit incredulous. “And where exactly is this guy now?” I ask, even though I know she probably won’t tell me.
“He died,” she says in a quiet voice. “Car wreck.”
“Oh, Kiki,” I say, automatically reaching out to put my arm around her.
“Don’t even think about it.” She freezes me with her words. Now that’s the Kiki I know.
We stand there in silence, not looking at each other for a few moments. Finally, I say, “Well, I had the book to help me, but you were pretty cunning all on your own.” I know she’ll find this a compliment. “Dulling the knives. That was subversively smart.”
; “What?” She glances over at me.
“Running all the knives in the kitchen through cardboard so they were dull. How did you think of that?”
“I didn’t,” she says. “Why would I want to make the knives safer for you to use? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Sharp knives are safer than dull knives,” I explain. “With dull knives, you have to struggle.” I can see this is new information. “So you didn’t ruin the Bouche knives back when Paolo and Aspic had to go to the hospital?”
“No.” She shakes her head, and I’m pretty sure she’s telling the truth. “I thought they were just being stupid or something.”
“Well, what about the poisoning?” I press.
“Poisoning?”
“Come on. You know, the gassing. You sent your henchman to doctor the beans. You gave all those people really bad gas.”
“Hey,” she says, reacting defensively to my tone and accusation. “I didn’t hench anybody.”
“Yeah, but you knew about it,” I insist with more vehemence than is probably called for. I’ve only been trying to follow the teachings of Buddha for less than forty-eight hours, so I’m still pretty wound up about our competition, apparently.
“Maybe I knew a little bit. But so what?” She tosses her perfect blonde hair over one shoulder. “If someone wants to do something stupid, that’s their deal, not mine.”
“Yeah, but it was to your benefit. You could have stopped them. Somebody could have been killed.” Here again, still have only been using Buddha’s teachings for a couple of days, and my skills could use a bit of work.
“You’re being overly dramatic,” she tells me. “The worst that could have happened is someone dying of embarrassment. Besides,” she comes back at me, “you shouldn’t talk. You broke into the computer and ruined Chandra’s reception. For her wedding. And I had to go deal with The Creep to save my job. Now that was a truly bitchy thing to do.”