Authors: Tamara Larson
Jessie mentally slapped the little voice into submission and thought about how she should act when he finally did remember her. She turned on the interior lights and walked over to her stacks of unopened boxes of books. Clay had obviously received a shipment the evening before because the pile was even larger than she remembered. The invoice was lying on top, and Clay had left her a chocolate bar for a paperweight.
Jessie grabbed the Mars bar and took a fortifying bite. It wasn’t Chunky Monkey, but the restorative powers of chocolate couldn’t be denied. She was glad for the distraction that work and the snack provided, but didn’t think it would keep her thoughts from
Duncan
. It was important that she handle the situation just right. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t afford to let him get any deeper under her skin. That way, madness lay.
She’d just be cool and mature. She wouldn’t whine about how he hadn’t called her or act mad at him. She wasn’t angry really. She was just disappointed that he hadn’t considered how his actions would make her feel. How could she be with a man who didn’t think of her?
Maybe she was being unreasonable. After all, he had a lot going on, finding his sister and all. But it was pretty early to be taking her for granted, wasn’t it? Jessie sat down on the floor, not caring how this might affect her long, off-white skirt. She just tucked it around her legs and thought how great it was to be back in her own comfy clothes. Her days of dressing sexy were over. Forever.
What did she need a man for anyway? She was just fine on her own. Better than fine. She’d been temporarily insane to think seriously about pursuing a relationship with someone like
Duncan
. And Clay’s pep talk hadn’t helped at all. Clay had started her believing in all that true love nonsense again. All that stuff she’d believed in when Fairy Tales seemed real. No more of that, and no more listening to Clay. He was a die-hard romantic and heeding his advice would only lead to disappointment.
The bell over the door tinkled and Jessie popped her head up. She groaned when she saw who it was and retreated back behind her boxes. She was in no mood for this.
“Hey, Jess. How’d it go with lover boy? Did you two hornballs hit anymore bathrooms last night?” Jamie asked. She’d spotted Jessie’s tousled red head over the boxes, and she made a beeline for that corner of the store. She set down her purse and moved a box out of the way so she could see her sister. Today Jamie was wearing low-rider jeans that exposed the large aquamarine drop earring in her bellybutton and several inches of bare skin below her navel. An equally cropped white baby T-shirt with the smiling faces of TV’s Charlie’s Angels completed her casual look.
Jessie grabbed the box out of her sister’s hands and put it back where it had been originally. Her bitter, disembodied voice rose from behind the tower of boxes. “No, we didn’t. In fact, the detective and I won’t be hitting anymore of anything again after last night.”
“What?!” Jamie squealed maneuvering around the mote of boxes so she could see Jessie’s face. “I don’t believe it. What happened? You two looked tighter than Phabio’s pants last night.”
Jessie held up the invoice in front of her face like she was studying it closely. She didn’t want her sister to see from the expression on her face just how upset she was by last night’s events. She concentrated on making her voice as flat and uncaring as possible, like she was reporting the calorie count on her Mars bar rather than something she actually cared about. “He left last night without a word to me. I haven’t heard from him since he disappeared backstage with Percy last night.”
Jamie waited expectantly for the rest of the story. When nothing seemed to be forthcoming she prompted her sister with a rolling motion of her hands and a long, drawn-out, “And…?”
All pretense at casualness gone, Jessie threw the invoice down on the closest box and put her hands on her hips. Her voice was shaky and bitter when she said, “That’s it. He obviously doesn’t have any respect or regard for my feelings if that’s how he treats me, right? I mean, how was I supposed to feel; sitting there, waiting for him, only to realize after a half hour that he’d left. Phabio actually came over and told me. I’ve never been so humiliated.” Jessie could feel tears welling up in her eyes remembering how the diminutive male stripper had looked at her with pity.
“Clearly, you don’t get out much,” Jamie said and burst out laughing.
Jessie shook a finger at her. “This is not funny, Jamie. You were right. I definitely need to slow down with this. In fact, I think I have to put on the brakes entirely.”
Jamie rolled her eyes at her sister’s car metaphor. “Jess. C’mon. I thought I was the dramatic one. Don’t you think you’re overreacting? What was he supposed to do? Abandon his sister to come over and sing some Barry White under your window last night?”
“No, just a phone call. Is that too much to ask?” Jessie asked petulantly.
“Jess, these were extenuating circumstances. I’m sure he’s not going to be rescuing his sister from a life of debauchery every single night.” Jamie smiled at Jessie, hoping her sister would see how ridiculous she was being, but Jessie just glared back at here. Jamie narrowed her eyes, and asked, “There’s more going on here, isn’t there?”
“No, that’s it. I’m just realizing that I was better off before.”
“You were better off watching Buffy re-runs every night alone and working sixty hours a week?”
“What’s wrong with Buffy?” Jessie said huffily. “And work never hurt anyone.”
“I take it back. There’s nothing wrong with Buffy or work. But Jessie, you could have so much more if you weren’t being such a ‘fraidy cat.”
Jessie was confused. Wasn’t she actually following her sister’s advice for once? Shouldn’t Jamie be happy that she’d come to her senses? If Jamie kept this contrary behavior up, Jessie wasn’t going to have anyone to talk to soon. “I’m not being any kind of cat. I’m just doing what you said yesterday. Being cautious. Not getting in over my head. You know, all your words of wisdom.”
Jamie placed a placating hand on Jessie’s arm and in a carefully controlled tone said, “But you’re not slowing down, you’re abandoning the car entirely. Besides, that was before I saw you two together last night. I clearly didn’t know what I was talking about.”
Jessie stepped away from her sister and put her hands out in front of her in a pushing away gesture. “Jamie. You’re scaring me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you admit you were wrong before. Should I maybe call the exorcist for you?”
“Just listen, Jess. Last night, your detective looked like he was going to internally combust when he saw Phabio practically sitting in your lap. Then, when you walked over and spoke to him, his entire demeanor changed. Remember those roadrunner cartoons? When the coyote would get conked on the head with an anvil and he’d look all dazed? He looked just like that. All he needed were the birdies flying around his head and a few stars.”
“Maybe he has a mental condition.” Jessie muttered.
“If he does, then he recovered pretty quickly. At least if the sounds coming from the bathroom later were any indication.” Jessie blushed furiously, but didn’t reply. “I probably don’t need to ask this, but how did it go in there anyway?”
Jessie covered her red face and spoke between her fingers. “Terrible. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”
“How do you mean? Did he do something nasty?” Jamie asked, alarmed.
“No, not nasty.” Jessie slid her hands down her face to her neck. “Well, he, uh, kissed me…down there?” She lowered her eyes.
Jamie’s dark eyes brightened in comprehension and she reached out to grab her sister’s hand again in her excitement. “Are you serious? He went down on you in the Ladies Room? That’s fabulous, isn’t it? Or was he terrible at it, or something? But then why were you screaming? You sounded like you were screaming in a good way. Weren’t you?”
Jessie patted her sister’s hand and smiled at her enthusiasm. “Yes, I was screaming in a good way.” Her smile faded. “But that’s part of the problem. I have no control where he’s concerned. No propriety. Until I met him, I was happy being a bit of a prude. Now, I’m screaming my fool head off in public toilets.”
“Jess, you’re kidding me, aren’t you? You’re embarrassed that your behavior was inappropriate? For a strip club?” Jamie started laughing again. “Trust me, people have gotten off in the bathroom before. The only difference is that it usually happens in the men’s room.” Jessie looked at her sister, puzzled. Jamie rolled her eyes and said, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re making excuses to end this. Lame excuses, I might add.”
Jessie glared at her sister and hastily withdrew her hand from Jamie’s grasp. “So, you think I should let him walk all over me?”
Jamie stepped away, kicking her purse ahead of her, and sat down on her usual chair, sprawling gracefully. “Jess, you know that I would be the first person to tell you to pull the plug if I thought the guy was being a jerk. But I don’t think he is. I think he’s got his priorities straight. You’re the one I’m worried about.” She pointed at Jessie with one gray snakeskin boot toe.
Jessie came out from behind her boxes and stood in front of her sister with her hands on her hips, ready to argue. “What do you mean by that?” She asked belligerently, her brown eyes sparking behind her glasses.
“I mean, I met your detective offstage last night, and he didn’t even give Wilma and Betty a look.” Jamie glanced down at her chest. She’d named her breasts after the cartoon characters in Grade nine. “Not even a little peak. He was immune to their charms.”
“So? What the hell does that mean to you exactly?” Jessie asked, looking at Jamie like she’d just started talking in tongues.
“It means two things.” Jamie leaned forward and held one hand up, so she could count on her fingers. “One: when he’s working, nothing can distract him—a very positive trait for someone in his line of work. And two: it also means that he’s either gay or very taken. Since we’ve already ruled out the gay thing, I’m going to say he’s extremely taken. By my sister, judging by the way he looked earlier.” Jamie crossed her arms like a judge declaring a sentence and eased back in her chair with a smile to wait for Jessie’s reaction.
“That’s crazy,” Jessie sputtered. “Let’s see if I’ve got this straight. You figure, because he didn’t ogle you, he either likes guys or he’s serious about me? Well, if your theory is right then your breasts are better than a polygraph. You should offer your services to the police.”
“It’s not just my breasts, Jessie. It’s any half-decent breasts. They fascinate men. If they happen to come across a perky pair, they will stare.” Jamie smiled at the unintentional rhyme. “Unless they’re gay or in a very serious, sexually satisfying relationship.”
Jessie hated to admit it, but Jamie’s crazy theory sounded almost reasonable. Or maybe she wanted to believe that Duncan cared for her so much that she was willing to believe just about anything. Jessie sat down across from her sister. “But we’re not.”
“Not what?”
“In a sexually satisfying relationship. I was the only one screaming remember? And it’s hardly a relationship. We’ve only known each other for two days.”
“So, this wasn’t a mutual thing in the bathroom?” Jamie raised a questioning eyebrow.
“No, he said he wanted to make it about me.” Jessie shook her head in confusion. “Whatever that means.”
“You’re an idiot.” Jamie said, shaking her head in disbelief. Jessie gave her a hurt look. Instantly chagrined, Jamie reached out and tugged on her sister’s skirt. “No, you’re not. I shouldn’t say that. You just don’t seem to realize what you have with this guy. Do you know how many women would give up a year of spa treatments to have a decent, sexy guy like your detective put their needs before his own?”
Was
Duncan
’s behavior last night that unusual? She was so ignorant of these things. She’d just assumed that men enjoyed pleasing their partners. They certainly did in the books she read, anyway. Was it possible that
Duncan
was the exception, rather than the rule when it came to being a generous lover? That wasn’t any excuse for abandoning her later though. “Alright. Maybe you’re right about that part. I thought it was pretty sweet at the time too, but what about later, when he left without saying anything?”
Jamie gave Jessie a speculative look. “You’re awfully focused on that.”
“How could I not be? He didn’t even give me a second thought.”
“Jess, I’m sure he did, but he had to get Theresa out of there to avoid a major tussle with Diego. He left through the dressing room because he didn’t want to put Theresa through all that. And let me tell you, he did the right thing.” Jamie opened her eyes wide to indicate how out of hands things got after Jessie left.
“Why? What happened? Theresa was all right, wasn’t she?” Jessie asked, moving closer to the edge of her seat.
“She’s fine. As for Diego, when he realized what had gone down, he was not a graceful loser—just a loser. He broke a few chairs and made some threats against Theresa. Guido had to escort him out. None too gently I can tell you. Diego probably still has a wedgie.” Jamie smiled wickedly, expecting her sister to laugh. She was disappointed. Jamie was too focused on Diego, and his reaction to Theresa’s disappearance from the club.
“You don’t think he figured out that we helped
Duncan
track Theresa down, do you?” Jessie asked nervously. The last thing she needed was Diego coming here to get some kind of twisted vengeance. She tried to remember if there was any way Theresa’s benefactor could connect them to
Duncan
. Had Diego seen them together? Was he smart enough to put two and two together?