Part 16 (1/2)

But there was no way to turn back gracefully now. All because I was angry enough to accept help from one of the most awful people I'd ever met.

They were in the study, waiting for Octavia. Provost Carl and Frannie, neither dressed as formally as our host would've preferred, I supposed. Neither was I. Stephanie was there, too. She hugged herself and ignored my ex-wife, looking up when I walked into the room, her eyes a bit wide. Also there was Pamela, imposing in a melon-colored pantsuit. She stood in the middle of the room with a wine gla.s.s full of something dark, dark red. Hot in a ”punish me, ma'am” sort of way, but it definitely kept everyone at arm's length.

Frannie sighed, low and rumbly, then said, ”Jesus Christ.” She wanted me to hear.

I didn't shake hands. Didn't greet anyone. Seemed no one else had either. All of us standing around, unwilling to ask, ”What in the h.e.l.l is this all about?” like they do on a bad TV mystery show. Instead, we all hoped someone else would say it first.

Frannie covered her mouth with her hand and mumbled something to Carl, who said through his teeth, ”I can't hear you.” She tried again. He said, ”Not now. It's fine.”

Jennings entered the room with another man. I hadn't seen him before. Looked in great shape, a tight polo s.h.i.+rt over his chest, tucked into his khakis. Maybe in his early fifties. Hair mostly gone, what was left kept very short. Jennings asked him if he'd like a drink while waiting.

Whoever he was, he made Carl nervous. Frannie, too. They both t.i.ttered and hissed at each other, walked deeper into the room, farther from the rest of us.

The man looked like we were wasting his precious time, said no to a drink, then noticed Carl and Frances. He said, ”Hey, actually, okay. Bourbon?”

”Neat?”

”No, on the rocks. Thanks.”

Jennings went off to make the drink. The guy shoved his hands in his pockets, watched me watching him. ”Can I help you?”

Then I knew. Don Moose, the s.e.x club's high-tech guy. The one I had sent Pamela after. I didn't expect he even existed, or would actually show up. I said, ”No, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

I moved in Stephanie's direction, motioned to the seats in front of the desk, and we both sat down.

I asked her, ”How are you doing?”

”I'm so glad you're here. I had no idea it was going to be...you know.”

”Carl jumped me outside your house. After that, well. I'm tired of pretending everything's okay. It's not.”

”But are you sure this is the right way? Isn't it risky?”

I reached over, squeezed her hand. ”Who's got more to lose?”

Then Jennings spoke. ”Excuse me, but if you could all follow me into the dining room, Miss VanderPlaats is waiting for you.”

I winked at Stephanie as we stood. ”Here we go.”

We found ourselves at the entryway at exactly the same moment as Frannie and The Provost, us nodding curtly at each other. Frannie smiled at Stephanie, who was in no mood to smile back and apparently not much for faking it. I liked her even more for that. Fran drifted closer to me, arms folded across her chest.

”What exactly is all this about?”

I shrugged. ”Sure she'll tell us.”

”I refuse to walk into some sort of ambush. It's not fair, and you won't win.”

I stepped around her, back to Stephanie's side. ”Fine. Leave. Who gives a s.h.i.+t, Frances?”

She grabbed my arm. I stopped, and so did Stephanie and the Provost. I turned to Stephanie. ”Go on, save me a seat.”

She continued, along with the Provost, both looking a little startled by the Ralph Steadman prints on the wall. Like a real life house of horrors-crazed faces and eyeb.a.l.l.s and skulls and scribbled lines and and and, well, they weren't used to it.

Frannie said, ”You f.u.c.king her now?”

”Really? You're going there?”

”Don't even-”

”The answer is no, not that you care. You're the one who slept with her husband.”

She curled her lip. ”Grow up.”

”Seems to me I'm the adult. Kids take whatever they want, no consequences, and refuse responsibility. Then they want more and more, like, I don't know, say, the house?”

”Nice, impressive. You been practicing that little speech?”

I thumbed over my shoulder and took a step back, almost giddy with power. ”Hey, I don't want to be rude to our host, so, if you're just trying to insult me-”

”Okay, wait, I'm sorry. Listen, Mick...” Trembling hands. She rubbed her palms together, then laid one on my chest. Whispered. ”I'm sure we can work this out another way. There's no need for everyone to know our business.”

So many comebacks to that line. So, so many. But which one would I choose? Which one would sting the most?

I heard some giggles and ”Oh my G.o.d, you're kidding me” from the dining room, so they must've just then saw the Boteros.

Back to Frances, who was genuinely scared. I didn't know why, since she seemed to come out of the deal in the best shape. Or had her double-cross blackmail plan failed her? Without me, without the house, how could she continue to pull it off? That would make the Provost her safety net. I was watching as she only just realized.

I said, ”I didn't want it like this. Maybe we can reign it in, but you'll need to do your part, too.”

”I'm okay with that. Please, we can even use your lawyer. We can work this out fairly.”

It wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind. ”It doesn't even have to come to that. I've heard about some counselors. Not the usual type. I mean really good, honest, in-your-face counselors.”

She closed her eyes. ”No, Mick, no, I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to give you hope just now. We have to end it. We both see it's the only way. Come on, we've talked about it over and over-”

Then a shout from the dining room. The Provost. ”No f.u.c.king way!”

Well, we had to go see. Stopped mid-sentence and took off down the hall and into the room where we found everyone watching Carl nearly growling at Octavia, finger up and stabbing the air in front of him.

Then I saw why. So did Frannie. She let out a quick shocked breath.

Alice was standing next to Octavia, looking much more peaceful than at our last encounter, but also ready for a naughty c.o.c.ktail party in a little black dress I'm sure Octavia kept around just in case pet.i.te drugged women guests needed to play dress up.

Carl said, ”We're done. We're leaving and you'll be hearing from my lawyer. Whatever's going on, we'll find a way to make sure you pay for this. All of you”

From behind Octavia, Pamela said, ”I know your lawyer. We used to go out.”

Carl swung left and right, finger still stabbing. His face was glowing like it was on fire. I'd never seen him break his calm and collected mask before. When he found me in the room, he marched right up to my face. ”You really thought you could make me look like an a.s.shole? Is that it?”