Her Something Impetuous

by Hunt Harris, Kim

“No reason. But you looked a little…” He shrugged. And then flashed white teeth at her.

  “A little what?” She tightened her grip on her wine glass.

  “A little like you were going to slap her, that's all.”

  “I was dissatisfied with the level of customer service we were receiving. I mean, you had to get our drinks, and then when she finally shows up she completely ignores me. I have a good mind to speak to management.”

  Will nodded. “I see. Must have misread it.”

  Karen sighed and shook her head. “Okay, so I was a little jealous. That's what women do when someone vastly more attractive than them shows up.”

  “In that case, you definitely have no reason to be jealous.”

  Jane reappeared then, with a carbon copy of herself in tow.

  “Julie knows Kitty. Used to work with her.”

  “She owes me money,” Julie said. “You seen her?”

  “No, that's why we're looking for her,” Will said without a trace of sarcasm. “Any idea where we might find her?”

  “I heard she worked at Uncle Nasty's, but I never seen her over there. Somebody there might know where to find her, though.”

  Will nodded and stood. “Thanks. If we find her we'll tell her you need your money.”

  “Do that. The bitch owes me two fifty that I'll probably never see again.”

  “You up for Uncle Nasty's?” Will asked when they got out to the parking lot.

  “Of course. I could look at naked boobs all night long.”

  Uncle Nasty's was on the other side of town. She had a little too much time to reflect on what he'd said back at the bar.

  In that case, you definitely have no reason to be jealous.

  She decided to push that thought from her head. After all, she had other things to think about. She was facing possible jail time. Her lawyer thought she was delusional, which was something less than reassuring.

  How were Pam and Cait going to deal with this? She needed to call Cait and talk to her, maybe go over to Terri’s tonight and try to explain things.

  And just what was she going to say? Honey, I know I was arrested for felony drug possession, but it’s not my fault. It’s your father’s.

  Her girls had enough to deal with going through the divorce. She should be using every ounce of energy she had trying to fix this mess before the girls got hurt.

  She didn't need to divert anything to the task by being flattered by Will. Or remembering how his beard had felt against her lips, against her cheek. How his legs had felt pressed against hers.

  She reached over and flipped on the air conditioner. “You don't mind, do you?”

  He slid her a look and shook his head, but by the wrinkle between his brows he had other things on his mind. Hopefully he was figuring out how to save them, since she was turning out to be so bad at it.

  Uncle Nasty’s was cowboy instead of jungle, and the customer service was better. They hadn’t been inside a full minute before a waitress showed up.

  “Hey, hon.” A long-legged girl wearing only a low-cut vest and a fringe-draped thong placed a glass of beer in front of Will. “You're finally coming to see me? I was beginning to give up hope.”

  “Hi.” Will nodded and smiled. “How are you?”

  The girl turned her butt to him. “You may not be able to see it through my panty hose, and it's dark in here. But it looks really good.” She winked at Karen. “He gave me a tattoo of a rose on my butt.”

  “He gave me one of a smiley face.” She glanced at Will. “Well, he's going to.” If the police quit barging in. And I don’t chicken out.

  The girl squeezed Will's shoulder. “You broke my heart, you know that? I gave you my home number, my cell number, my work number and my address. And I haven't heard a word from you in six weeks.” She looked over at Karen, a sly smile on her face. “It's okay with me if you have a girlfriend. I'm into that.” She bumped a thigh against Will's arm and winked at Karen again. “We could have a lot of fun together.”

  Karen spent a brief horrible moment trying to imagine a ménage’ a trois with Will, this long-legged, long-haired gorgeous girl…and her. Even if for some reason she lost total sanity and actually agreed to that, they would probably kick her away every time she tried to join in. That was a sure-fire self-esteem booster.

  “Gosh, thanks,” she said. “Can I get a glass of merlot, please?”

  “No prob.” The girl trailed a long manicured nail along Will's collar and over his shoulder as she walked away.

  “She seemed nice,” Karen said when they were alone again.

  Will laughed. “You know, you are cute when you're jealous.”

  “You think so? Because you ought to see me when I'm furious. I'm downright adorable.” She picked up the matchbook inside the ashtray and flipped it open. Well, hell. There was a naked girl in there, too. “And seriously, I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous? We're not even…”

  “Not even what?”

  “I'm not sure, exactly.”

  “We could narrow down what we aren’t if we knew what we are.”

  She looked around the room full of leering men and flashing lights. “True. Partners in crime? Crime-fighting duo? Actually, this sounds like a topic of conversation to be addressed in an atmosphere where all the participants have their clothes on.”

  He nodded. “Sounds practical. And yet absolutely no fun.”

  The bimbo came back and set a beer in front of Karen. “Enjoy. And think about what I said.”

  “Let it go, Amy,” Will said. “She doesn't swing that way.” He turned to Karen. “You don't swing that way, do you?”

  “Not as far as I know.” Karen took a deep drink of her wine.

  “Don't knock it till you try it.” Amy gently scratched at the nape of Karen's neck.

  Karen shuddered and stood. “Do that again and you will be very disappointed in your tip.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “We're actually here to see a girl named Kitty. Long blonde hair. Bad teeth. Do you know her?”

  “Hell yes, I know her. She owes me money. If you see her tell her I'm looking for her, too.”

  “Is she working tonight?”

  “I doubt it, I haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks, at least. But I'll check the schedule.” Amy cocked her head and looked from Karen to Will and back again. “But if you’re looking for anything freaky, I gotta warn you, I don’t think you’re her type.”

  “Because we’re normal?” Karen asked.

  “Basically, yeah. She’s not into that, from what I hear.”

  “What is she into?”

  “She hangs around with a lot of big-boned girls, if you get my meaning.”

  Karen sipped her wine and decided she must not get the girl’s meaning at all. Kitty was a lesbian?

  “You remember seeing her with anyone in particular?” Will asked. “Anyone more than others?”

  Amy put her hand on her hip and looked up at the ceiling. “I can't really say that I have, but I don't pay that much attention to her, really. All I know is she owes me 75 bucks and I need it back before my water gets cut off.”

  “You've been a big help, Amy.” Will sat forward and placed his hands on the table. “We really appreciate it. Would you mind checking the schedule to see if she's working tonight?”

  “No prob. Does she owe you money, too?”

  Will shook his head. “Not exactly. But we do need to talk to her, as soon as we can.”

  “Be back in a sec.”

  Karen watched her go, feeling like she was eighty years old. She turned to Will. “I knew I led a sheltered life, of course. Suburban mom, PTA committees, neighborhood association fundraiser.” She clapped her hand to her head. “Shit. I'm supposed to make two dozen of Midge's Halle-freaking-lujah muffins before…” She trailed off as she tried to remember what day it was. “Oh wait. I have one more day. Right now I’m just supposed to be soaking dried apricots in exactly three-quarters a cup of brandy.”

  The
corner of Will's mouth tipped up in “Finish your thought.”

  “I was just going to say that I knew I'd led a sheltered life. But it's still kind of disturbing, to be right here in the –” She waved a hand around the room. “The sordid underbelly of our society.”

  Will remained silent for a moment, then snorted. “The sordid underbelly?” His shoulders shook with laughter.

  Karen joined him. “Yes, sordid underbelly. Drug dealers and strippers and – and that girl was hitting on me! You saw that. That is a little hard for me to digest.”

  Will shrugged. “Happens to me all the time.”

  “I'm sure it does.” She looked over his shoulder. “I don't think our friend Amy is coming back.” She stood, the two glasses of wine making her just brave enough to suggest, “I'm going to see if I can go back to the dressing rooms.”

  Will raised his eyebrows. “You sure you want to do that? You might see some sordid underbellies back there.”

  “Funny. Stay here and fight off the advances of a million hot women.”

  He gave her a salute as she walked away.

  She was right, he thought as he watched her walk through the crowd. She was far out of her element.

  She was game, he had to give her that. She was the type who believed that right won over might. That things always worked out for the best, somehow. Even if she was afraid right now of what Michael could do, he knew that deep in her heart she believed if she tried hard enough, she would win this because she was right and therefore, it was her right.

  Basically, this was all a big adventure for her. He rubbed his upper lip and reminded himself he was just a part of that package. Her wild fling, Terri had said when she thought he couldn’t hear.

  Now, that was ironic. He being the product of just such an episode. He slid his glass slowly around the table, realizing that apparently he had come full circle. He was to Karen what Charlie had been to his mother. A good time. Something wild and crazy and fun while it lasted. But certainly not something to be taken seriously.

  There was a mirror along the back wall, and he caught his reflection in it. She was right, he looked like an aging rock star. Well, she'd said he'd aged well, at least that was something. He ought to cut the hair and shave the beard and mustache. None of it was anything he'd planned on keeping. It had all just seemed a part of the experiment. Go off to write a novel, grow your hair out, stop shaving. Hang around a tattoo parlor and get in trouble with the law.

  Amy came back and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, hon? Did she bolt on you?”

  He took a deep breath and sank back down to the chair. “Not yet.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Karen came back to the table less than three minutes later, red-faced and tight lipped. “Let’s go.”

  Will stood and looked back in the direction she’d come. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. She’s not here. Let’s go.”

  “Did someone say something to you? Do something?”

  “No. But she’s not here. I’m leaving. Are you coming with me?”

  He shrugged and followed her outside. “What happened back there?”

  “Nothing happened.” She stalked across the parking lot and beeped the door lock with her remote. “Are you going to get in the car or not?”

  He climbed in, waited for her to sit down, then took hold of her wrist. “Tell me what happened.”

  She scowled at his hand, then at his face, but he didn’t let go.

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “Just some of the other girls.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That she doesn’t work there anymore. No one knew where she would be.”

  “So why are you upset? What happened?”

  “When I said I was looking for Kitty, this stupid little bimbo – who couldn’t have been more than seventeen – asked if I was her …her mother.”

  Will bit the inside of his lip, hard. Now would not be a good time to laugh. But he was so relieved, it took everything in him to maintain a straight face. “Kitty’s mother? Was she serious?”

  “Yes. Idiot girl.”

  “How ridiculous.” Now would also not be a good time to point out that Karen actually had a daughter who was old enough to work at Uncle Nasty’s.

  “I know. The stupidest thing I’ve heard all day. Except for you’re under arrest.” She sagged against the car seat. “Where do you think we should go next?”

  She chewed her lip and waited for him to answer. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes were red-rimmed from all the smoke. She looked thoroughly beat.

  “Actually, if you don’t mind I’d like to call it a night,” he said. “I’m exhausted.”

  “If you’re sure,” she said. “I guess we could start again tomorrow.”

  “Sure. As soon as the bars open at noon.” He studied her profile, the way her nose tilted up slightly at the tip, the shadow below the delicate line of her jaw, where he wanted to plant his mouth and make her squirm.

  He sighed and reminded himself who he was, who she was. “There's a liquor store about half a block on the left,” he said. “Better stop now because they'll be closing in ten minutes.”

  She pulled into the parking lot and waited for him to get out.

  He came around and opened her door.

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Am I going in?”

  “I can go. Do you trust me to get the right kind?”

  “The right kind of what?”

  “Your brandy. Didn't you say you had to get brandy for your muffins?”

  “Well hell. I forgot. And Midge will be able to taste if I soaked the apricots one minute less than the full twenty-four hours.”

  Inside he led her to the aisle that held the brandy and found the brand Midge had mentioned. “There,” he said, placing the bottle in her hands. “Your reputation is still safe.”

  “I hope Midge is right about these stupid muffins. Last year Barbara Braxton made them and she got pregnant after trying for three years. And before that Amy Haskell made them and she was made a partner in her CPA firm.”

  “This year you can make them and hopefully avoid prosecution.”

  “Exactly.” She hefted the bottle and walked toward the counter. “I don't suppose they sell dried apricots at this liquor store, do they?”

  “Doubtful. But there's an all night grocery store another half block down the road.”

  “Great. I'll drop you off first, though. I'm sure you don't want to be traipsing down the baking aisle with me at midnight.”

  “Actually, I don't want you traipsing through the parking lot by yourself at midnight. I’ll go with you.”

  Ridiculous, to be so touched and thrilled that he was concerned for her safety. But she was…both touched and thrilled.

  They wandered around under the bright lights for a few moments before they found the aisle with the dried fruit. “Is there anything else you need?”

  Karen sighed. “Probably. But I have no idea what.”

  “Do you have flour?”

  She tried to do a mental inventory, and realized she couldn't remember the last time she'd actually opened the flour canister. Pam was the cook in the family. So basically the canister hadn't been opened in at least six weeks. “Does flour go bad?”

  Will reached for a five-pound bag. “Just to be on the safe side. Do you remember any other weird ingredients?”

  “Some spice I'd never heard of before.”

  “Cinnamon maybe?”

  Karen gave him a look. “Okay, I don't cook that often, but give me a break. I think it started with an A. Or maybe a E. I know it was a vowel.”

  He took her hand and led her to the section with the spices.

  Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact that he reached for her hand so casually, or maybe all of it combined – their shared precarious position and his concern for her safety and his willingness to help her with something that shouldn't even concern him – but something gave her the nerve
to ask him something personal.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He surveyed the little bottles of spices. “Shoot.”

  “You said you didn't even know that guy was your father till you were fifteen. What's the story there?”

  He turned his head to look at her. “Boy, when you ask a question you don't beat around the bush, do you?”

  “Let's just quickly go over the list of personal things you know about me. My husband left me for another woman.”

  “The gargantuan tacky dresser.”

  “Yes. Neither of my daughters will speak to me. The oldest of those daughters was conceived out of wedlock. I'm a lousy cook.”

  “That one's not exactly skeleton-in-the-closet material.”

  “No, but I don't know what kind of cook you are.”

  “I'm going to go out on a limb and say better than you.”

  She had to laugh at that. “And plus, you know what my naked butt looks like. I don't have any clue what yours looks like.”

  He chewed his lip a moment. “Not better than yours.”

  “But I have to take your word for that. See, you know much more about me than I do about you. It puts me at an unfair advantage.”

  “For what?”

  “Stop trying to divert my attention from the question. I deserve at least one nosy question, and I choose that one.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

  He studied her for a moment, a bemused smile on his lips. Then he turned back to the spices. “Allspice?”

  “No.”

  “Fennel?”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Anise?”

  She looked at the label. “That sounds familiar.”

  He handed it to her and turned down the aisle.

  She had little choice but to follow. He placed her items on the belt at the register and waited silently while she paid.

  Outside he opened her door and stayed quiet as she drove down the street. They were pulling into the parking lot at Under the Inkfluence when he finally spoke.

  “Bill was my mom's high school boyfriend. From what I've been able to piece together, they broke up for a while and she dated Charlie to make Bill jealous. But then she got pregnant. She said Charlie wasn’t ready to be a father so Bill married her. They did their best to pass me off as Bill's, but I always knew something was wrong with me.”