Текст книги "Slut"

Автор книги: Jettie Woodruff

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Two

At least my hotel was nice. Lane dropped me off at the front door with a hundred dollar bill. For a brief second, I recalled the last time I’d been dropped off in front of a hotel and handed money. I was with Izzy, my mom was drugged out of her mind, and a little bit of both our personalities had been taken away from us.

“Gabby?”

The zoning on my past was interrupted by Lane’s quiet words, and a soft touch to my arm. I moved my arm from the contact and blinked away the image of two broken little girls. “Huh?”

“This is all going to work out, but you need to think about what you’re going to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not going to let you go. He’s going to want you back.”

“No he won’t. He thinks I’m Izzy.”

“You are,” Lane said in a flat tone, sarcasm noted while reminding me what I already knew. “I better not come up. Go to Target and get yourself something to wear. I’ll call your room later if I get a chance.”

A young couple walked past me, laughing and holding hands, pulling my attention from the crisp money, new like it had just come off the press. I turned to the joyful noise, feeling disorderly, and tired. Nostalgia fell upon me when a mom, holding a little girls hand, followed behind the couple in love.

“You don’t have to call. Thanks for your help,” I said gratefully. I was grateful. I’m not sure what I would have done without Lane, but the truth is everyone I talked to knew something I didn’t. Everyone.

“You’re welcome. Don’t worry, Gabby. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

I held the door handle and turned to Lane with a tilt of my head. “Why do you have Candace’s car?” I don’t know why I asked that. No clue. I should have been asking what the hell he was to me. Instead I questioned his motives for driving his wife’s car.

“Oil change. The garage across from my office. You’re in ninety-four. That’s all you have to say,” he said, eyes hooded by crooked brows.

“Oh, well thank you again. I’ll repay you.”

A hint of irritation pervaded his voice when he answered. “I’m not worried about the money, Gabby.”

I opened the door, rejecting the urge to say anymore. Ninety-four, that’s all I had to say. That was instantly peculiar to me, but I didn’t know why. Everyone was suspicious, and I didn’t trust anyone. Not even Lane. I walked away without turning back to him, nodding at a lady who smiled at me.

As much as I wanted to go right to my hotel room, shower, and crash, I didn’t. Not only did I need something clean to put on afterward, I needed food. Real food with actual nutrition. Candace’s car took a right at the light and I watched it disappear, thinking about Rowan and Phi, what they were thinking, and what Paxton told them. Surely he wouldn’t tell them I wasn’t their mom. Would he? Or that I was in jail. I would kill him if he told them that.

A deep breath of muggy air filled my lungs and then depleted. My shoulders dropped with the exhale while I wondered about my fate. My gigantic attorney assured me that he didn’t have a case. At one point he had even called Paxton a coward, saying he was the crazy one. Still yet, where did that leave me? Paxton had a motive. That much was a given.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where the Target store is?” I asked an older man wearing a suit and tie. He had to be roasting from the heat. August in Florida wasn’t the place for that attire, not outside anyway. The guy didn’t even look at me, he told me it was right around the corner with a quick glance up from his phone, and a point.

Once I rounded the corner where Lane had gone, I felt silly. The store was right there on the corner, but it didn’t look familiar to me at all. I didn’t feel like I shopped there.

Walking through the department store felt strange. I could have sworn the people around me were staring, like they knew I was an imposter. It was silly. It wasn’t like I was on the six o’clock news or anything, but nonetheless, I had that feeling.

I bought three pair of panties, purposely defying Paxton’s rule for thongs. Cotton briefs with little pink bows, two pair of shorts from the clearance rack, a few needed toiletries, a couple t-shirts, and a pack of boy boxer shorts to sleep in. The thought to buy a prepaid phone crossed my mind, but I didn’t know how long I needed my hundred dollars to last. I used it sparingly, not even using it for food. I bought a salad from the deli, and a bottle of water. Eating out was the furthest thing from my mind. A shower to wash the stench of the jail from my body was all I desired at that moment.

Walking back to the hotel, I wondered whose name Lane put the room in. I’d forgotten to ask and he never told me. Great.

“Excuse me,” I said, fingers armed over the shiny bell.

A young girl smiled at me, closed a file drawer, and walked toward me.

“Hello, welcome to Coast Inn West. How may I help you today?”

“Well, I have a room reserved, but I’m not sure whose name it’s in. I forgot to ask,” I said, my smile fake and stressed.

“I’m sure we can figure it out. What name is the credit card in?”

“Um, try Lane, Lane—oh, it’s ninety-four. That’s what he said, ninety-four,” I said again, just in case she didn’t get it the first time.

“Hmmm, ninety-four is reserved for Pierce.”

“That’s it. That’s me. Gabriella Pierce.”

“And you’re Paxton’s wife, correct?”

The instant confusion was hard to hide. “Yes, but that shouldn’t be the name on the credit card. It should be Lane.”

“That’s what I have for ninety-four. No worries, you’re good. I don’t need anything else. Do you have more things?” she asked, neck stretching to see my one and only shopping bag. She spoke a polite hello to the couple behind, and got my key-card.

I wanted to ask more questions, but I refrained. That made no sense at all. How did Lane get Paxton’s credit card? Why would he get Paxton’s credit card. Lane was in on something. That was the only explanation, but what?

“Ma’am?”

“Oh, sorry. Thank you.”

I took the elevator to the third floor in a daze, oblivious to the business chatter going on between the three other guests. Two girls, both in corporate attire, and a guy in a suit. He smelled like Paxton, a clean, subtle smell. Not too strong, yet sexy.

The hotel room had one bed, a large TV, and a horrible shower. The water was warm, I could barely turn around without hitting my elbows, and it had a bleachy smell. My lavender shower gel barely masked it, and my cheap shampoo did little for my hair. I sputtered water from my mouth and laughed. I was being accused of horrible accusations, and I was worried about the way the economy shampoo made my hair feel.

With my head wrapped in a not so soft towel, I sat at the little table with my salad, and a heavy sigh. The street below the window was on the opposite side from where I’d come in, but just as active, people busy with their normal lives. An elementary school set on the corner, a drug store right across the road, and—

“Oh, my God,” I exclaimed aloud when I saw him, my heart beat in my chest thumping hard.

This was perfect. This was an omen. We were meant to cross paths. A fancy apartment building with a doorman sat directly across from my hotel. I took a bite of wilted lettuce and watched him shake the doorman’s hand, and then talk to him, like they were old friends. What was his name again? Another bite of salad and a crunching crouton distracted me from remembering while I watched him. He walked through the double doors, and I wondered why. The clock told me that it was just after one in the afternoon. Maybe he was on his lunch break.

“Nick!” I yelled when it came to me. That was no coincidence. Everything happened just as it was supposed to happen. I sat down to eat my bland salad at the exact same time Nick entered the building across the road. I continued to somewhat enjoy my lunch while I waited. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before Nick returned to the sidewalk with a dog. Not a manly Rottweiler or a German Shepard either. This was a prissy little hairless dog. A Chihuahua with skinny legs. Rowan and Phi would have loved the little brown mutt.

Nick walked his beloved pet around the fence of the school yard, and crossed the road. I finished my entire salad, minus the cucumbers before I saw him again. He walked the entire block, but the dog didn’t. The sissified thing rode in Nick’s arms with its tongue hanging out the right side of his mouth.

The thought to run outside and grovel at his feet crossed my mind for a second. I had to know what happened the night I wrecked, where my sister was, and the biggest question of all—did I kill her? Nick was the only person I knew who might be able to give me some answers.

Regardless of which twin I really was, I had to know what happened that day. Award-winning Nick Benson would be the one to help me with that. Whether he wanted to or not, how? He had to. Nick was my only shot. Even the doctor told me I may never regain my memory.

As soon as the nerves settled from Nick, they started right back up from Paxton and Lane. Why was Paxton’s credit card on file for my room? Reverting back to the days when you had to use a phonebook, I flipped through the pages in search of the number for the counseling center Lane worked at. A secretary answered the phone, but refused to put me through. She wouldn’t give me his cell number either, not that I thought she would, but anything was worth a try. I left a message for him to call, but he never did. I didn’t know his cellphone without mine, and all I could think about was the time wasted. He would be home soon, around Candace where he couldn’t talk.

I laid sideways across the bed and turned the television on for the noise. My eyes closed at the same time my lungs took in a long breath of air, and I tried my best to relax. Concentrated feelings about my childhood permeated my mind, but that’s all they were. Feelings, no memories. Trying my best to summons the recollections, I fell into sleep.

No thoughts. One hour and fifty-one minutes of nothing but needed sleep. Not one memory to help with my puzzling situation. My eyes opened to a rerun of ‘House Hunters International.’ An instant grunt from pain in my ankle echoed throughout the hotel room when I stretched my legs. I still forgot that I couldn’t do that, not yet anyway. I did that exact same thing at least three times a week, cursing myself every time. Other than that one pain, caused by my own stupidity, I was physically all better. If I could force my mind into catching up, I’d be in a much better place. At least I could have stopped looking for puzzle pieces that didn’t fit.

Sitting up, I shook my hair out with my fingers, using them as a makeshift comb, and looked at the time. Lane’s office would close in fifteen minutes and he still hadn’t called.

I took in a deep breath of air, spiking myself up with needed courage. My lips puckered and my fingers drummed off my kneecaps, debating on a strategy. I knew I wouldn’t get through the gatekeeper by saying I was a patient. Cleverness was required for a job like this.

I watched the TV while the newly married lesbians argued over the layout. The blonde would win in the end, and they would purchase that one. The same one I guessed the first time I’d seen it. Could I be clever? That was the question.

“Aaah,” I called out as I stood. I could be crafty. Right after a quick pit stop to the bathroom, I sat on my bed and flipped through the yellow pages for a name. My finger glided down the list of ads and an unplanned smile formed on my lips as soon as my finger landed on the needed information.

“Westside Counseling Center, this is Maya, how may I be of service?”

“Yes, this is Carrie from Gilford’s Garage. We have Mr. Arlington’s car over here. I’m afraid we have an issue.”

“Hold please.”

And just like that, I was clever. I boasted, blew on the tips of my fingers, and cockily swiped them across my chest.

“I only asked for an oil change. Nothing else,” Lane answered, armed and ready for a high-pressure mechanic, assuring him of an expensive repair that he didn’t need.

“Lane, it’s me.”

“Gabby? What? Oh, my God. Will you stop?”

An instant frown took over my expression. What the hell did the guy expect? “I want to know what is going on. You know, Lane. I know you do. How did you get Paxton’s credit card?”

“What? I don’t have Paxton’s credit card.”

“The room is in his name. Why?”

“Jesus, Gabby. I said ninety-four. That’s all you had to say. Just ninety-four. Everything else was handled.”

“What the fuck, Lane? Did Paxton pay for this room?”

“Yes. Please stop with this. I don’t want to be involved with this anymore. If you still want to go through with the arrangements we had before, I may be able to help. If you’re not interested in that, then I need you to move on with your life and leave me out of it. I’m about to lose my wife and kid over you, Gabby. I don’t want to do that. You know that.”

“No, Lane. That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t know that.”

“You were never going to go, were you?”

“This is so unfair. You’re asking me questions to things I have no recollection of and answering for me. What’s in Costa Rica?”

“A resort. You were four days away from being free. Four days, Gabby. You had the job, the house, the new names, you had it all. All you had to do was park your car at dance class and get on a plane. That’s it.”

“You said you felt obligated to help me. Why?”

“Gabby, forget that part of your life. I promise you, it’s the best thing you could do. As long as Paxton knows where you are, you’re still his. He’s never going to let you go.”

“He had me arrested,” I reminded him with a tone meant to portray him as stupid. Where I came from, wherever that was, having your spouse arrested wasn’t the best way to keep them, unless they were imposters.

I heard the breath being exhaled from his lungs and I was sure, had I been able to see his face, it would have been stressed, but why? And why couldn’t he just tell me?

“Gabby, tell me you want to go, and I will help you all I can. Tell me you want to stay and you can do whatever you want. Just leave me out of it. That’s all I can say.”

“Why is that all you can say? How do you think I feel, Lane? I don’t even know which twin I even am.”

“You’re the one that married Paxton Pierce. He’s going to trap you just like he did before, Gabby. Be smart. Please don’t fall for his malicious artifices. You’re not legally his wife anymore. He married Gabriella Delgardo, not Isabella.”

My shoulders shrunk with his last words. I was doomed. “Lane?” I questioned in a voice I didn’t even recognize.

“Do you want me to help you get the girls and get out of here?”

“If I say yes, will you tell me everything?”

“No, I’ll get you the hell out of here and you go forward without the baggage. Say yes, Gabby. Please say yes.” The tone in his voice was desperate, and I didn’t understand why.

“Let me sleep on it,” I quietly spoke, “Goodbye, Lane.”

“Goodbye, Gabby. Take care.”

I hung up, knowing whatever was between Lane and I before, was gone, and we'd just said goodbye. Probably for the last time. Everything in me told me to call him back and take the deal, the new identity, and the new life with my girls. That would have been the logical thing to do, but no. Inquisitive Gabby just had to have all the pieces.

My body fell back to the bed, eyes closing in frustration. The couple on the television talked back and forth about the three houses, deciding on the second one. Just like I had said.

I hung around the hotel room for a little while, waiting until I knew Nick would be home. He’s was all I had to rely on, the only one who could possibly get into my mind. I finally decided that I must have missed him at a quarter after six. Surely he was home by now. The office was twenty minutes away, and that was with traffic.

With a quick pep-talk, I sat up, straightened my posture, and swallowed away the nerves. Then they came back. Then I plopped back to the bed. Then they came back. Repeat. Every time I thought I had the backbone where it needed to be, I was wrong. I did however make it a little further each time. First to my door, and after a few paces up and down the hall, I made it to the elevator, and then to the front door, and then to the corner. By the time I backtracked, walking my same steps over and over, I had walked at least a mile, maybe more.

My eyes glanced to the ‘do not walk sign’ and my mind pondered my assumptions. Maybe this wasn’t even his house. No, it had to be. He had a dog, an ugly dog, but still a dog. I crossed the road with a few other people, skipping a quicker pace when the light changed. Thinking cap turned to high, I contemplated a plan, seeing a potential obstacle. A doorman meant a gatekeeper that I had to get through. Flowers crossed my mind, but I didn’t have any money for my pretend delivery. Pizza wouldn’t work either. The closer I got to the doorman, the more my nerves jumped up and down. I don’t even know where the story came from. It just flowed from my lips like a pro. Wait. That’s a lie. I knew exactly where it came from. My mother was an expert liar. That was truth coming from a few dreams.

“Hello, can you tell me where I can find personnel? I have an interview for the hotel bar.” Boom! Perfect lie.

The jolly, white-haired man laughed, ridiculously hard. His shoulders bounced up and down with his round belly, and he opened the door. “I love a pretty girl with a sense of humor. Do you know where you’re going, little lady?”

“Oh yes, to see Nick.”

“Aaah, Nick Benson. Good man. You have a nice day,” he said with a smile as bright as the blue in his eyes and a friendly nod as he opened the door. Score.

Once I was inside I looked around the first floor to nothing really fancy. I mean it was a lovely building with lots of old character, but nothing over the top. A sleek black counter stuck out with black granite, shimmering from an overhead chandelier to the right of me. One receptionist, nose buried in a magazine. Again, the lie came natural, no thinking required.

“Excuse me, can you tell me which apartment Nick Benson lives in? I accidently deleted the message and he’s not answering his phone.” Spoken like a true prevaricator, I smiled at the young girl when she looked up from her gossip magazine.

“Want me to look? Or you could just go around the corner and look at the mailboxes,” she suggested while her chin rested on her hand. The body language and the snobbish tone in her voice directed me on how to answer. She couldn’t be bothered by my petty request. The article about Kortney and Scott took precedence over my life or death situation.

“I can look. Thank you.” I got a hum in response. Pleasant customer service.

Gold plated squares covered half the wall when I turned the corner. My finger glided across the top row in search of Benson while my mind thought about what to say. Jesus, I was about to add menacing to my list of charges. My finger landed on the mailbox with the name Benson. Twenty-one, easy enough.

The elevator opened to a large foyer and two doors on the second floor; one on the right, one on the left. That was a stress-free step closer, but only for a second. My knuckles raised to the door and my lungs filled with a deep breath of bravery. It wasn’t like I had a choice, especially with the new information. Why would Paxton put me up in a hotel after calling the police on me? What did Lane have to do with anything, and why couldn’t he just tell me? Why all the secrets? All thoughts stopped when I heard the echoing fill the hall from my own knocking.

My body nervously danced around and I flipped my wrists, shaking my fingers in the air to calm my nerves. I blew out quick puffs of air, trying once again to come up with a flawless disposition. Something amazing popped into my mind, the perfect approach, and then it was gone. No words formed in my mouth when the door opened.

I wasn’t expecting a wife or a girlfriend. “Oh, hi. I was just—is Nick here?”

“No, this is his late night at work. Can I help you?”

The man’s shirt rolled to her elbows, and the clay drying in different shades of gray was a sure sign of me interrupting something. A project. She blew a piece of hair from her eyes and smiled. That made me feel better and I relaxed a little. I had no idea what I was supposed to say. None whatsoever. I blurted it out without thought, hoping to get someone on my side. Even if it was the girlfriend of someone I didn’t really know. The scraggly looking dog walked out to the hall and sniffed me, but I ignored it, and wrung my hands instead.

“This is going to sound totally off the wall. I met with your husband this afternoon, and—”

“Whoa, hang on. Can you come in for a minute? I have to turn off my table and wash my hands.”

The kind gesture caught me off guard for a second and it took a moment to answer. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m Mi,” she said as I followed her inside, observing the house that I was sure she lived in, too. A white kitchen and a spacious living area decorated by a woman’s touch was a dead giveaway. I stood in the middle of the room while she turned off her pottery table, wondering about Mi and Nick. Talk about the odd couple. Mi was a small Korean girl with black shiny hair and pouty lips. Nick was tall and lanky, long hair, with a sharp nose.

I didn’t respond until her slanted eyes caught mine. “Gabby. Nice to meet you.”

“You a patient?”

“I’m not sure, maybe. I have amnesia and I’m in trouble for doing something I don’t even remember.”

“Do you like tea?”

“Yes, I like tea.”

Mi was my Godsend. Chamomile tea and an hour and ten minutes later was plenty of time for me to pour my heart out to her, a perfect stranger in the right place at the right time. My entire life was laid out on the table. I blabbered nonstop, trying to get it all in before Nick showed up. My new Korean friend did a lot of gasping along with wide-eyed expressions when I explained certain parts. Like the part where I knew my sister was in that car with me; and the part where Paxton had me arrested.

“I don’t even know what to say. You poor girl. And now you think he’s the one that put you up in a hotel? Why would he do that if he wanted you to go to prison? Doesn’t make sense to me. Ya know?”

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. That’s why I need Nick.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nick asked in an angry tone, daggers shooting from his eyes to mine. “Mi? What the hell?”

My eyes shot to Nick, standing in the door, looking furious. With me. Of course he was. The crazy chick from his office was sitting at his table, having tea with his girlfriend. My heart beat hard in my chest, the thumps heard through both ears.

Mi stood, placing both her hands on her hips and looked up to him. Way up. Nick was at least a foot and half taller than her. “Nick, stop that. That’s no way to talk to a guest.”

“She’s not a guest, Mi. I can’t be with you anymore. Get out of my house.”

Just when I thought it wasn’t possible, my heart beat faster and harder. I didn’t mean to get the girl thrown out of her home.

“Shut up, where’s the food? You were supposed to get me Hero Bus.”

“Maybe you can explain why you’re in my house. Better yet; how the hell do you know where my house is?” Nick asked, his hand moving Mi to the side.

“My hotel is right over there. I saw you walk your dog. Nick, please. You’re my only hope,” I begged right from the start.

“You have to help her, Nick. She doesn’t have anyone else. Her husband has her kids. How would you like it if I kept you from our kids?”

Nick did a double take to Mi, eyes narrowed in a frown. “We don’t have kids.”

“We do, too. We have King. What if I didn’t let you see King?”

“Mi, shut the hell up. You’re not helping anything. We’re not getting involved with this. Come on. I’ll see you out.”

“Nick, you can’t be serious. Do you even know her story, or anything about her? She needs you to help her remember. Can’t you at least try?”

Nick placed a hand on my elbow and showed me to the door. “No, I can’t try. I’m not getting in the middle of this. If she wants to see me, she can make an appointment like everyone else.”

My feet scuffed across the floor while Nick guided me to the door. I was doomed, and I didn’t trust anyone.

“I’m sorry. Come back tomorrow. I’ll talk to him tonight,” Mi called from behind him.

“No you won’t, and don’t come back here period. Sounds to me like you’re in enough trouble. I don’t think you want me to call the cops.”

“I’m sorry,” Mi said again, and then the door was shut in my face.

I looked at the big brown door while the closing of my jail-cell rang in my head. A deep sigh and a huge feeling of kismet doom fell upon me. My only hope just shut the door in my face. My last chance to save myself. Walking out of that building was just as hard as walking in, maybe harder. At least I had a glimpse of hope going in. Now I had nothing.

The white haired guy was gone when I exited, his post empty like me. A piece of trash caught my eye and I pitched it into a trashcan and sat on the bench beside it. I stared at the window in my hotel room, wondering why Paxton put me up, knowing I couldn’t go back there. The ideas refused to surface. I had none. Zilch. Nothing.

The sky dimmed to a gray night as darkness descended upon the city, the busy chaos replaced with a dark calm. I’m not sure what I saw as I sat there, contemplating where to go, what to do, and the girls. That’s when it really hit me. I missed them so much, and it hurt my heart to think about them being sad. The first tear slid down my right cheek, opening a dam that I couldn’t control. I lost it. Right there on the sidewalk below a dim lit streetlight.

Not one word was spoken when I looked up to see Mi and Nick. He hated me, and she felt sorry for me. She slid in beside me and wrapped her small arms around me. The kind gesture and the needed hug did little for the breakdown I seemed to be having. If anything, it made it worse. I cried on Mi’s shoulder, unsure of any and everything. I was so alone, and didn’t know where to turn, who to turn to, or who to trust.

Minutes passed while I had a meltdown all over Mi’s pink shirt, drowning in pain and despair that I couldn’t even explain. My mind was all over the place; the wreck, my babies, Paxton, Lane, the whereabouts of my sister. I cried because I didn’t know what else to do. Simple as that.

“I’m sorry. I’m okay,” I finally said with a disgusting snot sound. The kind you can’t help. It was either that or let it run from my nose.

“Do you want me to walk you to your room? I will.”

“No, I can’t go there, knowing Paxton paid for it. He’s got a plan and I’m not about to let him make it about me,” I explained while sniffing again.

“Where you going to go?”

“Mi, come on,” Nick said from a few feet.

Mi shot him an angry look and turned back to me. “Where are you going to go, Gabby?”

I shrugged my shoulders with a sigh. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Come on, you can stay with me tonight. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Mi,” Nick protested again to no avail.

Mi might have been a little shit, but she was strong as hell. I wished I had half her backbone. She ordered him around and he listened. Not because he wanted to. That part was obvious.

“Go get us Hero Bus,” she ordered as she led me inside.

I sat on Mi’s couch with the tiny little dog while she made us drinks. Real drinks, not hot tea, just what I needed. The only thing bad about it was her ability to mix a drink. They were horrible, too much lemon, not enough coke, and the wrong kind of rum. Nonetheless, I drank it, probably a little quicker than I should have. It didn’t take any time before I felt the effects.

Nick returned twenty minutes later with a brown bag of smelly food, and my tummy hoped he got me something, too. I watched while Mi stood and set the table by the window. Three places. One eye watched Mi and one cautiously stayed on Nicks glare. The guy hated me.

“Nick, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do. There’s no one I can turn to. You’re a hypnotist. That’s perfect. I will do whatever you want.”

“I’ll do it,” Mi, said from the table. “Come on. Let’s eat. These are the best wraps you’ll find from a food-truck. The best.”

I walked to the table, joining Mi, and Nick laughed. “You’re going to hypnotize someone? How do you propose doing that?”

“I’ve seen you do it lots of times. I’ll try. Okay, Gabby?”

“Okay,” I said while trying to sound excited. I didn’t want Mi to try. I wanted Nick to do it. I knew Nick could do it.

Amusingly, Nick pulled Mi’s chair out and sat. I took the vacant chair, lifting the lid from my plastic container expecting to see some sort of greasy, meat infested wrap. To my approval there was no meat. Broccoli, cabbage, carrots, and tiny bites of celery. A side of noodles, and potatoes cut into thin strips.

“Where is the other twin?” Nick asked.

I may have shown the sass in my tone. I meant to. “Seriously? We just spent an hour together in your office. You already asked me that, and I already told you. I don’t know.”

Nick chewed the food in his mouth before replying. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant before. Where was she before?”

“Oh, sorry. She was in Michigan. That’s where she went. I stayed in Florida.”

Mi tossed in her own facts, not waiting to swallow the food in her mouth. “But she’s really the other twin. She traded places with her when they were eleven.”

“I thought I kicked you out of my house,” Nick said, eyes narrowed to his meddling girlfriend.

“My name’s on the lease. You want another drink, Gabby?” Mi asked as her chair scuffed across the floor.

“Oh, let me get it. You sit. You’ve done enough,” I insisted, using my own manipulative psychology. I didn’t want Mi taking care of the drinks. She sucked.

“Ah, thank you. I’m not used to having someone do nice things for me.”

“Shut up and eat your nice thing that I just went and got for you,” Nick insisted while Mi laughed and thanked him.

I mixed three drinks while deciphering their relationship. Constant bickering, but in a fun way. Nick was very eccentric, I could never tell when he was trying to be funny or when he was just plain weird. Mi could though. Then again, she was probably just as odd.