8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Laney

M y phone rings, breaking me of my reverie. I’m reading another article about the murder investigation, and how Rachel’s string of socialites reaches halfway around the earth’s hemisphere. Authorities are questioning everyone. Her body was finally autopsied and she was laid to rest yesterday; a week and a half after her death. I suppose Henry from NovoMax had something to do with speeding up that process, since I know for a fact that the waiting list for autopsies and toxicology reports and the like is months long. A client of mine is married to someone in the business, that’s the only reason why I know such creepy facts.

The display on my phone reads that it’s Brandy, so I pick it up. “Oh, good. You’re alive.”

We sometimes go weeks without talking, if we’re busy, and we are. It’s been almost a week, and I’m guessing that she’s calling to talk about the same article that I’m reading. “That Rachel chick is six feet under.”

“I bet Caleb and Chas and that whole bunch are so pissed that it’s taking so long to conduct this investigation. Twenty bucks says that their company jets haven’t had to be fuelled up in two weeks.”

“You can say that again. It seems like everyone’s life is on hold right now. God, even the reporter that did this article had to rehash a few of the facts, since not much new has happened, aside from the funeral.”

She changes the subject. “So, did you go through with it yet?”

“I assume you’re referring to my insane plan to go put Caleb Harris back in his place?”

“That’s the one.” She sighs, almost bored.

“Da got into my head.”

“Uh oh. When did this happen?”

“Last week. The day after I did the stupid thing.”

She gasps. “What did your dad say?” A quick pause. “And, more important, why are you just telling me this now?”

I sigh, exasperated. “Brandy, I have been up to my elbows in work. Shit, I slept here last night, and that’s the truth. Thank God I have a shower and wardrobe in my office.”

“Your dad’s got you back in the grind again, does he.”

“I’m just doing a ton of research and I’m trying to stay on top of trends, that’s all. You know how it is. Plus, I’ve been getting calls from this gajillionaire Egyptian guy that just moved to the states, and is looking for somewhere to park his gajillions. Da wanted me to take him on account of his accent. He can’t understand a word of what the man says.”

“And you suddenly know how to speak Egyptian?”

“I personally think that he’s got a crush on me, and wanted me to deal with him, not da.”

“Okay, quit changing the subject. What did your dad say about Caleb?”

“Exactly what you’d expect. He still hates him and doesn’t want any member of that family coming within ten feet of me or anyone in my family.”

“Can’t say I blame him.”

“Oh, I’m not saying that I blame him, either. But I can’t stand the look on da’s face, so I couldn’t go see Caleb again. No matter what malicious reason I have for it.”

“You didn’t tell your dad about you and Caleb, did you?”

“Do you honestly think I’d still be on American soil if I did? You know that da would ship me back to Scotland so fast my head would spin.”

“True.” A pause. “Hey, are you free for lunch?”

“How about dinner? A late dinner? At that greasy spoon restaurant by my place.”

“Seven good?”

“Perfect.”

I manage to zip through work and get to the restaurant early, ordering for both me and Brandy, when the phone rings, and it’s her. She sounds awful. “Brandy?”

“Lanes, I’m so sorry. I started puking right after we spoke this afternoon. I’ve been on my bathroom floor ever since.”

“Are you still at the office?”

“No, I went home to grab my other laptop, and that’s when it started.”

I look up as the waitress delivers two meals. I smirk as she walks away. And something catches my eye as she walks past the hostess podium. It’s Caleb Harris. “Okay, I’m getting a doggy bag and I’m coming over.”

“Lanes, no. This is like death. You don’t want this.”

“How do you know it isn’t just food poisoning? I’ve seen the shit you eat off that food truck.”

“I’m burning up with fever. It’s a bug. Stay away. I love you too much for you to die, too.”

I roll my eyes as Caleb looks around and sees me. I glare at him. He huffs, like I’m the last person he’d want to see on the face of the earth. The feeling is mutual. “You’ll never guess who just walked in, Brandy.”

“Unless it’s Doc McStuffins, I don’t really care.”

“Caleb Harris.”

“Okay, I’m about to die here. I think I may be hallucinating. Did you just say that Caleb Harris is there, or am I imagining things?”

“It’s not your imagination, Brandy. He’s standing at the hostess podium, looking like he wants to eat me for breakfast.”

“Just make sure he doesn’t…eat you.” I hear her gag. “I can’t believe I said that. I need to puke. Tell me all about it after I die.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I hear her wretch and hang up, as I wince. Before I have a chance to escape, Caleb approaches me. “Following me again, are you.” I comment.

He ignores my statement. “Stood up, Laney? Gosh, what a shame.”

“Fuck you. Brandy came down with the stomach flu, not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Sure.” He says, tipping his chin, unconvinced, sitting down in front of the plate, helping himself.

“I’m not lying. I don’t suppose you would know anything about having a proper date. Where you don’t pre-order for them, unless, of course, it’s with you, and you would dictate what your date would eat, and at the same time, make her order for you, you fucking neanderthal.”

He chuckles, popping a French fry into his mouth. I honestly don’t know how he stays so fit and lean when he drinks like a fish and eats like a forty-five-year-old divorcee. It makes me sick, frankly. “Wouldn’t you love to think so.”

“Based on how you fuck and leave I’d say I’m pretty accurate.”

“You’re just saying that because you wanted me to stay.” He goads.

“Get the fuck out of that chair. I didn’t invite you to sit in it.”

He ignores me, popping another fry into his mouth. “It’s a free country.”

“Not for you, at the moment, it’s not.” I poke.

He just smirks, unscathed.

“What are you doing here, Caleb?” I level with him.

“Believe it or not, I’m starving, and this place is so close to mine, frankly I’m surprised that you’re here.”

“You mean you couldn’t take your dick out of your maid’s mouth long enough for her to cook you something?”

He smirks but otherwise ignores me, continuing to eat Brandy’s dinner. It bugs me that he’s so not bothered by my bitchy comments, even though they’re justified. “So, I told my da about you and your ridiculous proposal.”

He finally shows some interest. Speaking with his mouth full, but covering it, being somewhat like a gentleman, he says. “He ready to put a hit on my head?”

That’s fair. I expected something more like. “You dumb lass. I’d never tell my da that.” So, I don’t respond at first, as I try for a comeback that stings. Then he shocks me. “You didn’t tell him the other thing, did you?”

I do a double-take. “Then he would put a hit on your head. And commit me, too.” His eyes fill with relief. It pisses me off. “But I’ll tell him if it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re such a fucking suck up, Laney. No wonder you never get laid.”

My jaw drops. “How dare you! Since when is my sex life any of your business?”

“Since I became a part of it.” He says so smugly my blood boils. I feel the muscles in my jaw clench as I pull my wallet out of my purse, place a hundred dollar bill on the table, put my wallet away all the while he’s watching me, like I’m a goddamn football game. That’s when I raise my hand and smack him in the face so hard, I wipe that stupid little smirk off it.

My feet can’t get me out of there fast enough as I storm out, leaving my uneaten dinner behind. As I drive home, hitting the gas pedal hard, I feel like I should have punched him. And if it weren’t for my fear of seeing the look of disappointment on da’s face, I should have told him about Caleb and his disgusting behavior. Then again, da doesn’t need more of a reason to hate Caleb.

Pulling up to my house, I open the gate and drive in, and that’s when I notice that I’ve got company. The fucker must have followed me here. I consider slamming on the brakes to prevent him from following me in, but I like my back bumper, and he’s not worth the damage. So, I pull up to my house and get out of the car fast.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout at him. “Why the hell did you follow me here!”

I notice the welt on his cheek and let myself feel the satisfaction.

“You’ve got your fucking nerve hitting me like that! What are you, a psycho bitch!”

“Did you not hear yourself, Caleb? Your comment deserved the treatment it received, you asshole!”. He’s looking at me, wondering why I’m not opening the door. But I’m no fool. I refuse to let this jerkwad into my house. It’s bad enough that he followed me here.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” He shouts, trying to justify his behavior. “I wasn’t out of line when I said that I was—" he’s about to retell what he said at the restaurant, but I stop him, fishing my keys out of my purse feverishly. I’m going to set him straight in the privacy of my own house, once and for all, and not out here, where my neighbors can hear. That’s the last thing I need right now. I open the door and slam it behind him, after grabbing him by the arm, forcing him into the house, before he says another word.

“My sex life, nor any part of my life, is none of your fucking business!” I shout, finishing the thought that I was going to share while we were outside, but thought better of it, until we had the privacy to do it. “What we did before was clearly a stupid mistake!”

“Which part was stupid, huh! We fucked! So what! You clearly needed it, you were so fucking horny for me!” He shouts, equally pissed, and I can’t figure out why.

“It takes two to tango, Caleb!” I shout. We’re both standing two feet apart, yet we’re yelling at each other, as though we’re on opposite sides of the street, and there’s road repairs going on…and a jack hammer running. I walk to the kitchen, thinking that I’m fucking starved, because I didn’t eat anything at the restaurant. And the thought pisses me off even more; the fact that I paid a hundred dollars and got nothing but an unwanted house guest.

As I slam a frying pan on the stove, he’s shouting at me. “I can’t believe you fucking hit me! No woman has ever done that!”

“Yeah, well, then you were long overdue, asshole! Where do you get off speaking to me like that in public!” I slam the butter on the frying pan, like it weighs a hundred times more than it does. It hits the pan with a loud clunk. Inside my fridge is a stir fry mixture that I’d prepared for my lunch tomorrow, but there’s enough there to have for lunch and dinner. As I feel my stomach gnawing at my spine, I consider eating the whole damn lot.

“Where do you get off fucking hitting me in public! I ought to sue you!”

The Scottish is clearly coming out of both of us. We yell a lot. My whole family is like that, and I’ve heard that his is, too. My da could yell loud enough to implode the walls at the office, and he has, several times. We Scots have a temper, and it shows. “Well, next time think twice about asking me something so blunt like that, when an entire restaurant is sitting there, witnessing! Where is your fucking brain, Caleb! Did you really think I wouldn’t hit you?!”

He walks to the freezer and finds an ice pack, and then he helps himself to the dish towel hanging off the rack on the stove, and I snort a laugh. “God, you’re a fucking pansy.”

“And you’re a fucking bitch.” He mutters, applying it to his face.

“Is your da going to put a hit on my head now, for scolding his precious son?”

He draws in a deep breath and lets it out. “No.” He finally says. “Technically, in his eyes, we’re supposed to be engaged by now.”

I toss the stir fry into the pan, listening to it sizzle, as I flip it over a few times, while it’s on high. “Yeah, well, fat chance of that ever happening. You had a one in a gazillion chance before that, but now you just crushed that. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last living man on earth.”

He pulls the ice pack off his face for a moment, and for the first time ever, I see sadness in his eyes. “Fuck.”

I try to ignore his solemn face, as he swears under his breath, and I push the food into an awaiting bowl, and sit down, continuing to ignore him. As I shovel the concoction into my mouth, I feel a certain satisfaction, knowing that I’m being inhospitable to the person who deserves it. Normally, this would be considered behaving like a bottom feeder in my family, but it’s rather fitting in such company. He stands there, nursing his face, as I stuff mine. I’m a quick eater, as is anyone up to their eyeballs in work most of the time, so I finish fast, and throw my bowl in the sink, letting out a soft belch under my breath.

“I hope you lost points with your da for that.” I add, putting salt on the wound.

“Actually, I already told him that I fucked you, so he was pretty pleased about that.” He places the ice pack down on the counter, and watches as my gaze burns into his.

“You asshole.” I seethe. “I can’t believe you sucked your da’s ass like that.”

“Don’t worry, Laney. He doesn’t think you’re a slut.”

“Oh, goodie.” I’m facetious, my tone caustic. “That’s what I was worried about. Forget about the fact that he wants me to marry his asshole son. Did you tell him I said there was a snowball’s chance in hell of that ever happening?”

He nods. “In not so many words, but yeah.”

I rise, pissed off. “So, who else did you tell, huh?!”

He raises his voice. “Oh, don’t get all high and mighty on me now, Laney! I’m sure you told Brandy!”

I round on him. “I tell Brandy everything! She’s my best friend!”

“Well, la-di-fucking-da!” He shouts at me.

“Oh, you are a son of a bitch!” I shout at him, walking towards the door. “Get out! I don’t know why I even let you come inside!”

“Because you were too damn worried about your fucking nosey neighbors!” He opens the door and shouts. “You didn’t want anybody else knowing that you fucked Caleb—” I grab him by the mouth and force the door closed with the other hand.

He grabs my hands and pins them behind my back, pushing me back, towards the living room.

…and it all ends there.