Текст книги "The Beauty of Lies"

Автор книги: Brinda Berry

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

18

Sleight of Hand

Harper

No one uses postcards anymore. No one except for Leo and the random traveler who can’t get a freaking cell signal in Siberia.

This postcard that I’ve stolen back from Leo taunts me. The words on the card have an ugly voice that speaks of my impulsiveness. My hurt. My life that was nothing but a lie for four years.

I grip the pink postcard with two fingers, intending to rip it straight down the center and then into giblets. My fingers are poised at the top between two Rhododendron flowers and above the statement, ‘Finest Beauty of the Evergreen State.’ I allow a tiny tear in the paper. It should be the impetus I need to shred the evidence. Continue until there’s nothing left of my life in Tacoma.

My hands shake and I drop it onto my bed. I need to return it to Leo. Am I crazy? Thinking it’s OK to steal?

I fold the postcard and tuck it into my back pocket. Saturday mornings in our building are noisy. The downstairs bakery bustles with activity and the pan banging and voices are louder than normal. I walk across the hall to Leo’s.

He answers after only one knock. He’s wearing track pants, a T-shirt, and a wary expression. “Morning.”

“Hi. Um…can we talk?”

“I have a few minutes.” His answer is even, not cold or warm. His tone edges on impersonal.

This is not the response I expected. I’m not a door-to-door salesman or something. He stands back to let me enter. “Thank you for the gift. Josie said the ereader was from both of you. That was too generous. I love it.”

“I’m glad.”

“About last night,” I say, wondering if I should sit or stand since he’s made it sound as if he doesn’t have time for a conversation. If only I’d said I’ll come back or this will take more than a few minutes.

“About that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got carried away. This thing with being friends will be tricky since we’ve—”

My mouth opens. Not to actually form words because I have no clue what would come out. Last night meant nothing? Because I’d bet my last chocolate bar it was hot and emotional and special. It was certainly not something I practice with my friends.

I shut my gaping mouth. My gullibility is limitless. “We are back to this? The friend thing?”

“Don’t read too much into it. We’re both adults. Just because we had a little fun in Dane’s office—”

I slap him and the pop of my hand against his cheek rings out in the room, seeming to echo. He flinches, but stays standing in the same spot with his impassive face. My heart beats faster, pushing air from my lungs as it tries to fill my chest with its fury. “You are unbelievable. I’ve never felt so used. So degraded.” My throat catches. “So cheap.”

“It got out of control.” He looks away and then back to meet my gaze.

“What? Your pride? Didn’t want some stripper touching me, so you needed to prove something?” My chest rises and falls like I’ve been running.

“It was my fault.”

“Yeah. It was. But you can’t do that to me. Friends don’t behave this way and lovers don’t either. I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not playing. I’m done. You’re vile and I pity the woman who is ever fooled by you.”

Leo’s rubs his fingers along the crease between his eyes. “Come on. You’re upset. We can forget about last night. People make mistakes. I made a mistake.”

I smash my lips together so I won’t cry. At least when Wesley literally screwed me and left for weeks on end to go to his real family, I didn’t know what was going on. It’s my excuse for not doing something at the time. I back away from Leo. “I deserve better treatment than being some toy for when you feel like playing around.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh wasn’t it? I really am an idiot. I thought yesterday made you see how much you missed us together. That there was actually something real there. But no.”

He looks up at the ceiling as if he can’t meet my gaze. “You’re overreacting. I didn’t mean—”

“That I was a hook-up? That you were horny and I was a pushover?”

He gaze drops to mine immediately. “You know that’s not what I meant. You deserve better than a purely physical relationship. I’m not ready to give you more.”

His soft voice bleeds sincerity, and I hate him for it.

“Can you do one decent thing for me? Just one and I promise to never bother you again.”

He stares at me. “Yeah.” His voice is low and for a minute, I swear it’s filled with regret.

“Don’t print this.” I pull the postcard from my pocket and fling it at him. “I took this the day I found all the blog cards.”

The paper flips in the air and falls short on the floor between us.

“You didn’t trust me? You could’ve asked for it instead of taking what you wanted.”

The hurt inside me coils. Strike at him. Make him feel like he’s not that important. I shrug. “I did ask for it, but you treated me like an unreasonable ditz. The postcard was the reason I moved next door. Mission accomplished.”

“Then why give it back now? You suddenly trust me?” He narrows his eyes and his cold voice makes me want to see some emotion from him. Anything.

“You’re right. I don’t trust you. Thanks for the reminder.” I bend to pick up the card. Making eye contact again, I tear it in half once. Then again and again and again until only small pieces are left. I release them and they flutter to my feet. “Have a nice life, Leo.”

A flicker of something I recognize passes across his face. Hurt.

I flee to the safety of my apartment with my chest tight. I can’t let what happened last night happen again.

I’m lying on my bed with my cell rings. It’s a relief when Josie’s name pops up on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I say, tentatively. She and Leo are close and I am well aware of what will happen if she’s forced to choose sides. I’ll lose her.

“Hey,” Josie says, pausing for a long second. “I want to apologize for last night. I should’ve cleared the stripper with you but I thought it would be so much fun to see the surprise on your face.”

“Yeah. I was surprised. Did I tell you thanks?”

“Um… about fifty times.” She laughs. “Did you and Leo get into a fight last night over that?”

“No.” It’s the truth. What we did was the exact opposite of fighting.

She exhales into the phone. “Good. I’ve been worried. I mean, I did it knowing that Leo would be jealous no matter what he says. That’s why I told him not to show up until later.”

“It’s fine. Can we not talk about Leo?”

Silence.

“I’m confused,” she says. “Didn’t you ride home with Leo after the cake?”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing going on between us. It’s over.”

“You are bullshitting me. Did you see his face when he dragged you out of the chair last night?”

“Yes. But we can’t make it work. I don’t want to talk about your brother. I need help finding a job and a car.”

Josie pauses, then sighs. “I’m coming over and we can take care of the car shopping today.”

“How am I ever going to pay you back for all your good deeds?”

“I’ll think of something.” There’s a pat-on-the-back tone in her voice that tells me everything will work out.

I smile at that. We disconnect. Even through the phone line, she’s stable. Kooky and loud, but stable. For the first time in a long while, I know what I want. Roots. Family. Purpose.

Love. Real love that doesn’t flash from hot to cold. A chill passes over me as I think about how awful my words were to Leo. I’m not that girl. A vindictive, ugly person.

He’s wrong for thinking he can turn me on and off, but it’s my fault for not staying away from him. We can’t be friends. He’s probably not going to try again anyway, after I was so hateful. But if he comes on to me again, I’ll be stronger next time.

Josie arrives in half an hour. I get into her Mustang convertible. She’s smiling but not her talkative self. It’s okay with me if we stay silent. My round this morning with Leo still has me feeling as though I’ve been sucker-punched.

“Want to look anywhere in particular?” Josie checks traffic and pulls out.

“I’m on a budget. Nothing as nice as yours. Something to get me places.”

“Gotcha.” She accelerates and pulls her hair off her neck. “It’s a little hot. We could’ve borrowed Leo’s car.”

I don’t respond to her comment. The last thing I want is to be indebted to him for anything. The wind blows onto my face and the temperature warms me. Leo’s chilly conversation with me has left me feeling frozen and empty.

Maybe my heart’s actually stopped and I don’t know it yet.

“Harper,” Josie says. “I wasn’t going to bring him up, but I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I do. He’s my brother and I love him. I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy. But he’s not going to tell you things he should. He’s weird like that.”

Cold is more like it.

“He’s hurt me.” I stare up and blink back the tears. “He really has. One minute he’s incredibly sensitive and romantic and…perfect. But he keeps shutting down and I don’t know who I’m going to get, Romeo or Voldemort. Today…” I cover my mouth with one hand and turn to the window so I can get myself under control.

“Tori still calls him. I found out he met with her the other day.”

I can’t stop the tears now. “Oh, geez. You are not helping me feel better.”

“No,” she says, frantically shaking her head. “He’s trying to make her stop calling and texting and dropping by his place. And it was after I told him that she got you fired. It wasn’t a reconciliation thing. Lord, no. She’s mental.”

I search my purse for a tissue. “He may deserve her.”

Josie puts her free hand on my arm. “You don’t mean that.”

“No,” I say, my bottom lip trembling with the effort to stop my blubbering. “No, I don’t. Sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Josie hits her blinker and pulls into the nearest parking lot. “Ice cream is required. Now.”

We’ve parked in front of an ice cream shop and it suddenly seems like the perfect anecdote to a good cry.

I wipe my face with the tissue. “OK.”

We stand in the line until our turn to order. I point at the ice cream buckets with the most decadent chocolate I can see and order three scoops. Then I request caramel on top.

Josie eyes my order. “There’s a reason we are buddies.” She licks her lips and orders the same for herself.

We sit knee to knee at the small parlor table and suddenly the world is brighter and definitely sweeter. I have a good friend. I dig into my ice cream.

“Let me talk and you listen. Eat your ice cream,” Josie says.

I nod and stuff a large spoonful into my mouth.

“Leo caught her with her husband. He broke it off. She said she’d left her husband. They got back together again. He discovered she’d lied. She said her husband abused her. That was a lie. I cannot tell you how many lies he believed. Over and over again.”

My mouth full of ice cream is numb, but my heart isn’t. He’s as broken as I am.

Josie’s lips purse. “For a smart guy, he can be really stupid. And that’s the part that scares him. He was incredibly stupid when it came to Tori. He kept holding on because you want to believe in people you love.”

“So, he loves her?” The words pass through my lips in a strained whisper. I’m not sure if it’s the ice cream or my question that causes me to feel as though I’ve been stabbed through the chest with an icicle.

“Oh. Should’ve said loved. Past tense. And I’m sure she’s killed any love there was. I mean, how can anyone stand that kind of abuse of trust? But she wove her spell on him and had this kind of sexual hold over Leo that I can’t explain. She’s like Calypso.”

I frown. “You mean the one who held Odysseus captive?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. I do read. I just mean Leo had trouble breaking it off and Tori’s obsessive.”

“And he doesn’t still secretly want her? Do you think that’s why he keeps pushing me away?”

“Shut up.” Her eyes flash hotly. “Believe me when I say this. If he were to let her back in, I could not call him brother. Seriously. Some stupidity is beyond forgiving.”

“I get it. My husband had someone else.” I begin eating the ice cream fast, shoving in spoonfuls so I won’t have to speak. Husband.

“You’re going to get an ice cream headache.” Josie suppresses a grin.

I stop inhaling the treat in front of me and look at her. Really look. She deserves the truth. “I was little more than a mistress, but I didn’t know it. He had a family and a kid. He also had one heck of an ID forger.”

Josie stops with her spoon midway to her mouth. “Stop. You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“I thought Leo was the only person with luck that hellacious.”

I nod. “He’s not the only one who’s been stupid. I was four years of stupid.”

“Makes me feel kind of good about my love life.”

“You don’t have a love life.”

“Um…yes. Right.” She spoons a large bite of ice cream into her mouth and then squeezes her eyes shut. “Brain freeze!”

“I’m looking for happiness and there’s so much weighing on both of us. It’s too much.”

“We’re both young. I vote we just have fun. But I had to make you understand where Leo’s coming from so you don’t take it so hard. OK?”

“Here’s to fun.” I hold up my mostly empty container to toast hers.

She clinks her container against mine. “To fun. By the way, I have the stripper guy’s phone number…if you’re interested.”

19

Pay the Piper

Leo

It’s been two weeks since Harper’s birthday party. I’ve stared at the same doodle of a giant fly with a man’s head for the last twenty minutes. The words won’t come. I don’t believe in writer’s block. Never have. I have a name for the current state I’m in. It’s called Harper block. I grin to myself at the thought. Maybe I should add it to Wikipedia.

If she were on my sofa watching her sappy movie of the week, then maybe I’d be able to write. Be able add a page to my manuscript that seems to be at a standstill.

I grab my keys and stride to the door, so ready to get out that I am inside my car and driving before I have a plan. I make a quick call and discover that Gunner is at Dastardly’s, along with my buddy, Aidan. This is what I need. A guys’ night out.

I finally find a parking spot in a public lot several blocks away. It’s a perpetual Saturday night in Nashville. People hang around on the sidewalks in front of the more popular bars. The music is loud and drifts out from open doors, beckoning with a lazy finger for people to come inside.

There’s a cover charge tonight, but the bouncer nods at me to go inside.

I elbow my way through the crowd. It’s standing room only, but Gunner motions at me from across the room. He and Aiden sit at a table with a couple of girls.

“Hey man. What do ya know? Miracles do happen. Somebody unglued your fingers from that computer.” Gunner grins. He’s already three sheets to the wind, by the look of him.

I smile back and Aiden scoots over to make room. “Good to see you.”

The band is jamming with a mix of old rock and roll, songs they’ve remixed to fit their sound. There’s an extra chair at the next table and I ask if I can have it. When I turn around to scoot in next to Gunner, the two girls have moved apart so I can sit between them.

“Hi. I’m Stacey,” the girl to my left says in my ear so she can be heard above the music.

“Leo. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

She places her hand on my forearm and puts her mouth close to my ear again. “I think my friend wants to go home with your friend.” Her gaze flicks to Gunner and her friend.

“So,” I say, moving back an inch so we aren’t so close. “They just met?”

“Uh huh.” She shakes her head. “I hate going out with Cherry. She’s fun and everything, but she always ends up hooking up and she leaves me stranded.”

I laugh. “The fun ones always do.”

“What do you do, Leo, beside look handsome?”

I tell myself she’s just being friendly. Still, unlike Gunner, I’m not looking for a hook-up. I back up another couple of inches. “Writer. You?”

“Dental hygienist.” She sips from her frozen drink.

Aiden gets up and wanders off through the thick crowd and I lose sight of him. Another band takes the stage and begins preparing for their set.

Coming here was a bad idea. Stacey keeps talking to me and she’s nice. Pretty. But I can barely pay attention to anything she’s saying, because I can’t quit thinking about Harper.

Stacey puts her hand on my arm again to get my attention. “Hey, the waitress is here to take orders. What do you want?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

Stacey turns to the waitress who stands somewhere behind my chair. Her hand is still on my arm. “He’ll have a beer. Whatever you have on tap. I’ll have a Sex on the Beach.”

“I’m not drinking,” I say, leaning toward her since she’s either deaf or determined. When I lean back, I pull my arm from her grasp and make certain my body isn’t in easy reach again.

“Someone will drink it. Not to worry, handsome.”

She doesn’t touch me again but continues to attempt conversation. Some girls are just like that—touching you when they want. Perhaps I’m being paranoid that she’s interested in me for more than a diversion while her friend gets friendlier by the minute with Gunner.

A beer appears in front of me and a frozen drink in front of Stacey. She reaches for her bag. “I’ll get yours.”

I shake my head and reach into my pocket for my wallet. She is not buying me a drink. I pivot in my chair slightly so I can hand the waitress money for my beer. My gaze travels up the length of the waitress in the revealing black shorts and tight t-shirts that all Dastardly’s waitresses wear. A shock reverberates through me as if I’ve fallen twenty feet and hit the ground flat on my back. I need to blink to clear my vision.

Harper’s hair is down, curling in ringlets down her back, and she’s wearing makeup. Those shorts make her legs go on for miles of beautiful skin.

This cannot be. Harper stands behind me, waiting for payment.

“You work here?” This is the dumbest thing I’ve said in ages. I hand her a twenty dollar bill.

Harper gives a couple of bills back. “No,” she yells. “I walk around scamming folks for money, but no one has caught on yet.”

Funny girl. She walks away and I stare at her retreating backside until I can’t see her through the crowd.

“Thanks for getting mine,” Stacey says.

It’s then that I realize that Harper gave me only a couple of bucks, assuming I was paying for both mine and Stacey’s. She thought we were together. My gut is churning with a terrible need to jump from the chair and race after Harper. Why would she think I was paying for a girl’s drink?

“Sure,” I say.

I glance around the table. Gunner and the friend are sitting close and they look like a couple. As if they came here together. Stacey’s not sitting quite as close to me, but we do appear to be on a fucking double date.

I feel hollow inside and hear a ringing in my ears. She thinks I’m on a date.

“It was nice to meet you,” I say to Stacey. I get to my feet and walk through the crowd. I’ve left the beer on the table. Harper stands beside a table near the back and the restrooms where she’s serving a table of four guys. Two of them are telling her something and she smiles at them.

Her smile. She always looks pretty, but there’s a transformation that takes place when she gives you that genuine smile—a stamp of approval for whatever you’ve said or done. It gives me a buzz to think about that feeling.

Now, some strangers are the recipients of her smile and my chest burns. I tell myself to get over it and go home because tonight isn’t working out.

Instead of leaving, I find a spot along the wall where I can watch the band and keep an eye on her. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I check the display.

Josie: What r u doing dork?

Me: Dastardlys

Josie: Yes. I know that. What u doing holding up that wall?

I scan the room. Josie waves at me from the bar where she sits on a stool.

Me: When did Harper start working here?

Josie: Last week

Me: Why didn’t you tell me?

Josie: Did you ask me about Harper and I forgot?

I roll my head in a circle, stretching the tense muscles of my neck.

Me: It’s too dangerous for her to work here.

Josie closes her eyes and shakes her head. She bends her head to continue texting.

Josie: She’s a big girl

Me: What about drunks hitting on her?

Josie hops from her seat and pushes her way through the crowd until she reaches me. She flings one arm across my shoulders. “You can’t have it both ways. You’re either dating her or not.” She yells above the music near my head.

I roll my eyes. “She doesn’t have anyone to look out for her.”

“Who was your friend over there?” Josie drinks from her beer bottle and uses it to point to the table I left.

“Her name is Stacey and I don’t really know her. Tell Harper I don’t know that chic.”

Josie laughs. “Oh no you don’t. Tell her yourself. We’re not in fifth grade. Besides, why do you care what Harper thinks?”

I shrug as if it’s no big deal even though I can’t seem to quit searching the room for her. “I don’t want her to think I hook-up with random girls in bars.”

“She won’t.” Josie waves at someone entering and I follow her gaze.

“Do I know that guy?”

“Yeah. You saw him the other night when you dragged Harper away. See you later.”

I squint at the guy, trying to place him. There were no guys at that birthday party. There was a room full of women. Except for one guy.

I stare across the room at Josie as she talks to him. He’s tall, thickly built like he spends an inordinate amount of time in the gym. He turns and then I’m certain of his identity. It’s Navy, without the flashing lights and music and white pants.

Josie looks around for a moment and points at someone. I look where she might be pointing.

Harper. Harper who isn’t paying attention as she takes a drink order from a guy. The customer is old enough to be her father, but he’s looking at her in an un-fatherly way.

My sister is trying to kill me.

I force myself to watch the band for as long as I can to remove my focus from Harper. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse her at the table near me. She’s good. I don’t remember her saying if she’s even waited tables before, but she’s quick to buzz around the room delivering drinks. I silently scold myself when I realize I’m still watching her.

At some point, Gunner and the two girls leave their table. I’ve searched the room for Aiden, but assume he’s left for some other entertainment for the night. It’s after midnight and the place is still crammed with customers.

There’s a small area in front of the band for dancing. Several partiers are doing a version of line dancing.

My sister still sits at the bar with Navy. His back has been to me most of the time while he talks to Josie. Suddenly, Harper appears and she’s changed clothes. Her shift must’ve ended and she’s ready to leave.

I push off from the wall, prepared to offer a walk to her car. Before I can make it more than a couple of steps, Josie, Navy, and Harper walk to the small dance floor. The three of them begin to dance.

It’s all harmless. No touching or grinding. A small favor for my already tortured emotions.

Returning to my spot on the wall, I can’t help but seethe. My skin warms with anger directed only at myself. I want to be out there dancing with Harper and receiving her bubbly smile.

She laughs, her head thrown back in pure delight from something said. I don’t know if my sister or Navy makes that happen, but I can’t watch anymore. I weave my way through the crowd quickly.

Outside on the sidewalk, I can finally breathe.

Jesus. I’m a fool. I don’t want her. I want her. I want her so much I can taste the salt of her skin from the last time we made love.

When I arrive home, I sit at my desk with a goal in mind. I have one particular scene in my novel that I’m in the mood to write. It’s several chapters ahead and although I write in a linear fashion, I open the file in my writing software.

The characters in The Incident meet for a rendezvous in a hotel room. It’s a gritty scene. No flower petals strewn across the floor. No champagne chilling in a silver-plated bucket.

No murmured phrases that glide off the tongue to entice and persuade.

It’s a scene of stolen moments and urgency. Their touching is quick and fraught with yearning. Afterward, they hardly speak because they have no need.

Their communication has been a wordless demand.

I type the final sentence of the scene and glance at the laptop clock. In half an hour, I’ve written more than I have for days. And it’s good. I know it is, because I was transported into the hotel room with them—an invited voyeur into my characters’ lives.

A noise sounds in the hallway and I glance at the clock. It’s 3:30 am and I’ve lost track of time. Since having my landlord install a lock on the exterior door, there’s only one person who has access.

I’m refreshed from the sheer joy of getting some words onto the screen. I could easily run a mile or lift weights. Adrenaline surges through my entire being. It’s a rush only another writer can understand.

I swing the door open so I can talk to Harper.

Navy—sans white pants getup—stands with her at the end of the hallway. They aren’t hand-in-hand, but she’s knocks into him when she takes a step.

I’m frozen. Do I go back inside and wish I’d never seen them coming in together? She’s not my sister or my tenant. I can’t tell her not to have a guest.

Still, my mind races, trying to come up with some excuse to kick his ass.

They walk together toward me and she’s looking at her feet. I have no doubt she’s been drinking. When she lifts her head, she sees me for the first time and there’s mascara under her red-rimmed eyes. Tear stains track down her cheeks.

“What the fuck?” I allow my door to slam shut behind me. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Harper turns toward her apartment. “Leo, it’s nothing. Go back inside.”

“What did you do, man?” There’s a sharpened edge to my voice.

“I didn’t—” he says in a softly accented voice, Italian maybe.

Harper whips around and glares at me. “Antonio didn’t do anything. He was only making sure I get inside my apartment.”

“I’ll bet he was.”

“I don’t know what your problem is.” Antonio the Navy stripper has balls to look me straight in the face. “I suggest you leave this situation to me.”

Right. “And I asked you what you did to her. She’s been crying.”

“That is none of your business. The lady told you I did nothing.” He raises one eyebrow at me and nods as if we are finished with the conversation. He turns away and stands waiting while Harper puts her key in the lock.

“Harper,” I say. “Answer me. What did he do? You’ve been crying.”

She ignores me. There’s no way he’s going inside. She should know better than to let some stranger bring her home. What is she thinking? At the very least, he’s aiming for a good time. She’ll regret it tomorrow.

His hand is now on the center of her back, and I grab his shoulder with my fingers digging into his bulk.

Navy shrugs me off and looks at Harper. “Do you want me to take care of this nuisance?”

That’s when my brain abandons logical thought.

I draw back and punch him. The smash of knuckles against cartilage makes a faintly crunching sound. Blood courses down his face. Pain explodes through my hand and shoots straight up my arm.

Harper screams as if I’ve hit her. I drag him away a few feet to make sure we aren’t too close.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a fight. I wonder if I’ll regret it later. Probably not. It feels too damn good.