UnWritten

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I’m sorry.” She brought me her plate and I rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher with mine. I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “That was a dick move. I shouldn’t be harassing you right now. Forgive me?” She pouted and held her arms out.

  “You know I do,” I said, hugging her. “I can never stay mad at you. It’s one of the reasons we’re still friends.” We fought, but we always made up right away. I’d never been mad at Raine for longer than a day.

  “True, true. Hey, will you read over what I worked on? I’m hitting a wall right now and I need your sexy brain.” I slung my arm around her shoulder and we headed back to our desk.

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Stop slouching,” Mom said as we sat next to each other and got our nails done. I guess since Gran had left an open space in my life for massive amounts of nagging, Mom had decided to fill her post.

  I straightened my back and tried to think of something neutral we could talk about.

  “So, um, how’s everything?” Lame. That was made of lame.

  “Blair.”

  “What? I’m just trying to make conversation.” That earned me one of my mother’s trademarked stern looks. I glanced at the woman doing my nails and she raised her eyebrows. Yeah, I know. I might be a grown-ass woman, but my mom will always treat me like a naughty teenager.

  “Things are a mess, and you know that. Your father’s siblings are turning into gold diggers, your Gran decided she wanted to be cremated, and we can’t seem to find the flowers she wanted.” She looked upward, as if she was glaring at Gran for dying and making things so difficult.

  “And it’s just . . . it’s hard.” Mom’s voice broke and she started sobbing again. The manicurist gave my hand back and I patted her shoulder awkwardly.

  “I know, I know.” I couldn’t really hug her because our nails were wet. The manicurist dabbed at the tears running down Mom’s face. “Do you need help?” I cringed as I asked, but I would have felt horrible for not asking.

  “No, no. I can handle it. I just have my moments. Nothing a trip to the powder room and a quick makeup fix can’t mend.” She smile and I took my hand back so the manicurist could get back to work.

  “Well, you can talk to me if you want.” I wasn’t sure how that would go. My mother and I hadn’t had a heart-to-heart in years. If ever.

  “Thank you, dear. I’m fine.” We both knew I wouldn’t be helpful. I’d probably end up swearing or saying something sarcastic and she’d get upset and that would be the end of that.

  We both got facials and by the time Dad picked Mom up, she seemed to be in much better spirits, even criticizing my wardrobe. I almost smiled.

  It really hadn’t been that bad and I said we should do it again soon.

  “Of course,” Mom said and we shared another limpish hug. Dad thanked me and helped her into the car, saying they’d see me next week. They were planning the funeral for Saturday and I’d volunteered to help. Somehow. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. I’d only been to a few funerals and that was when I was younger. I had no memory of what was actually supposed to happen. Maybe I should Google it.

  I headed back to the apartment to see if Raine was up. We’d gone out with Angie the night before and she’d gone a little too far. I’d nearly had to carry her out of the car and to bed where she passed out so fast I had to check her breathing.

  She’d been answering my texts all day so I knew she was probably recovering.

  “Lucy, I’m home!” I called.

  “Too. Loud,” a voice said from the couch. Raine’s head peered over the top of the couch. Wow. Now that was a bed head.

  “Sorry,” I said, whispering. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not good. Why didn’t you cut me off?” I shucked my shoes off and sat on the couch, moving her feet and then replacing them in my lap.

  “Because you’re sneaky. You kept stealing people’s beers. Blue cut you off too, but you wouldn’t stop.” For someone who was tiny, she could hold a lot of booze.

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “Then you probably don’t remember the two guys you proposed to.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that happened. But they were married. To each other.” Best. Story. Ever.

  She groaned and I saw the remains of the hangover kit I’d left for her this morning.

  “Need something?”

  “I need a shower.” I got up and helped her stand and stumble to the bathroom. She might be able to hold her liquor, but she held it for a long time. Her hangovers were legendary. It was a wonder she touched the stuff.

  “So how was your spa day with your parental unit?” she said through the bathroom door. We often had conversations like this. I drew the line at being in the same room while the other one showered. That just went too far.

  “Fine, actually. She was back to her old self by the end. Funny how getting your nails done and the dead skin scraped off your face can do that.”

  I gently rubbed my face and hoped the redness was going to go down soon. That was the downside of getting a facial. Other than having to deal with my mother, which hadn’t been so bad. Maybe I was finally getting good at it.

  “I should get a facial. We should do that together. We could probably get a couple’s massage. You know, pretend to be life partners.” That reminded me of my joke to Declan that Raine and I should be platonic life partners.

  “Yeah, I think we share enough stuff already. Hey, so I need your help picking out my outfit for tonight. Damn, I’m going to have to put on so much makeup to cover up the blotchiness from the facial. I should have thought about that beforehand.” Ah, well. Hindsight and all that jazz.

  “Done.” She started humming and I went to my closet to see what I should wear. The underwear part was easy. It was what to put over it that gave me issues.

  By the time Raine joined me, I wasn’t picking out a date outfit.

  “It’s looking kind of . . . black dress in here.” I’d realized I was going to have to wear something to Gran’s funeral, so I’d pulled out every black dress I owned and spread them out, trying to decide which one would work. I’d have to wear a cardigan over it to cover my tattoos, naturally, but I just couldn’t figure out which one was right. Gran would probably hate all of them, so I had to find one she’d hate the least. Or go shopping.

  “Yeah, I was picking out a date outfit, but then I started thinking about Gran’s funeral and here I am.” I motioned to the dresses.

  “Well, you’re not going to a funeral tonight. We’ll cross the black dress bridge when we get there. Do you want to go casual or dressy? Or in-between? Or maybe just something that isn’t too difficult for him to rip off you?” I looked away from the black dress explosion.

  “The last one.”

  “That’s what I thought. Go with this,” she said, holding up a loose gray shirt that draped around the neck. “And this.” A pair of black pants that made my ass look amazing was added to the shirt she tossed on my bed. “And maybe some longer earrings and a pair of heels that you can just slip off. Boom. Done.” She made an exploding noise.

  “Thanks. You rock.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  She winked and left the room so I could change. I left the black dresses out, though. Maybe she could pick one for me while I was gone. Then I wouldn’t have to think about it.

  “Are you running out of books yet?” I asked when he showed up with just one title. Snow White and Rose Red.

  “Not quite. I’ve got a list,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “It feels like ages since I saw you. I’m so sorry about your grandmother. Give your family my most sincere condolences.” Man, did the British know how to offer condolences.

  “Do you they teach you how to do that in school over there? Because you’re really good at it,” I said. Raine popped out of her bedroom where she’d been blasting Depeche Mode. Guess the hangover was finally unhung.

  “Yes. It’s part of the curriculum,”
he said.

  “Hey, Brit,” Raine said, going to the kitchen to find the Oreos. “What’s shaking?”

  “Not much. How are you?”

  “Same old, same old. Just making a list of ways to kill you when you inevitably break Walt’s heart.” She crunched down on a cookie and smiled.

  “Raine! Filter!” She just winked at Declan.

  “You feel me?” she said, her eyes narrow.

  “Yes. I do. And, for what it’s worth, I think the heart that’s going to do the breaking is mine,” he said.

  “And now we leave. Right now.” I grabbed Declan’s hand and dragged him out of the apartment as Raine cackled. Oh, she was asking for it.

  “She’s so cheeky,” Declan said, letting himself be led away.

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “You’re not mad at her, surely.” I sighed.

  “No. Not really. I never stay mad at her for longer than a few minutes. She has some sort of power over me.” Now it was his turn to laugh.

  “She has something about her.”

  I stopped walking.

  “Are you trying to tell me you’re attracted to my roommate-slash-best-friend-slash-platonic-life-partner?” I was totally joking, but kinda curious to see his response to my question. It was kind of mean of me to ask because he couldn’t really win, no matter how he answered.

  “No, I’m attracted to girls who have a little something . . . different about them.” When he said the word “different” he grabbed my ass, making me yelp.

  “So you’re only with me for my ass?”

  He grabbed the other cheek and yanked me toward him. His eyes blazed down at me.

  “You know that’s not the reason. You’re trying to bait me.”

  “Maybe. But it’s kind of fun.” I was definitely enjoying this. His hands moved upward to circle my waist.

  “Now who’s being cheeky?” he said and smacked my ass.

  “You British bastard,” I said, but I was smiling.

  “American hussy.”

  Now that was funny.

  “Gran used to call girls hussies who wore bright red lipstick. It’s why I always wore it.” In fact, I was wearing it right now. I puckered my lips and Declan bent his head.

  “I like your lips. And everything else about you.” He pressed his mouth to mine and I put my arms around him. I’d always thought it was silly when girls in the movies did that little foot pop thing when they got kissed, but I could feel my foot wanting to lift off the ground as Declan kissed me, grabbing the back of my head and then slipping his tongue between my lips.

  Abruptly, the kiss ended.

  “But we should probably get going. I want to kiss you in a place that has a bed I can throw you on.” He smacked the other ass cheek. Jeebus, I hoped he wasn’t going to leave handprints.

  “So, speaking of going, where are we?” God, I loved this car. I’d always thought fancy cars were a waste of money, but I was learning the appeal of riding in style.

  “Do you honestly think I would tell you that after being secretive for all of our previous dates?” Yeah, well. It was worth a shot.

  “Fine, fine. Then I won’t tell you what color my underwear is.” He chuckled and turned the radio on.

  “Can I guess?”

  “No.”

  The sounds of a group of children singing filled the car.

  “What is that?” I said.

  “Sorry.” He quickly hit some buttons on the fancy dashboard and the music shifted to “All of Me” by John Legend. Nice. Very nice. “Drake insists on listening to children’s music when I drive him and I forgot that I had it on.” I snorted and shifted in my seat, my foot hitting something on the floor. I bent over and picked it up, finding a sippy cup.

  “I’m guessing this is also his,” I said, holding the cup up.

  “No, that’s mine. Hand it over.” I did and he sucked from the cup. “Grape juice,” he said to my unanswered question.

  “You are so attractive with that cup. It’s making me super hot right now.”

  “Want a sip?” He held the cup out and I declined.

  “Probably wise. Children are germ factories. I’m always catching something from Drake.” He tossed the cup in the backseat and adjusted the air.

  “Don’t you know that there are girls who go for guys who have kids? I think it’s some sort of evolutionary thing. If a man can prove he’s a good father, then he makes a better potential mate and all that. Funny that we have all these instincts we don’t even know about.”

  “I’m not sure that my fatherhood makes me as much of a catch or if it’s my money. Well, my father’s money.”

  “I’m guessing you have a lot? I’m not trying to pry. Just asking.”

  “No, I don’t mind you asking. I know it comes from the right place. Let’s just say I have enough money. With a bit more.” That was a nice way of putting it.

  “My Gran left me a bunch of money,” I blurted out. I didn’t intend to tell him, but there it was. “I had no idea. And now I don’t know what to do about it. I mean, it’s not like I’m destitute, but it’s a lot of money at once. I mean, what do I do with it? I don’t even really want it.” This must be what lottery winners felt like.

  “I’m not sure I’m the person you should be asking. I wasn’t very good with money when I was younger. Most of what I have is invested, waiting for Drake when he gets older. Before I had him, I did what I wanted. My father raised me to value money, but I was spoiled and stupid.” He shrugged one shoulder.

  “What’s the craziest thing you spent money on?” I asked.

  “I bought a helicopter.”

  “You bought a helicopter?” I had no idea how much one would cost, but I’d bet it wasn’t cheap.

  “Yes. I had grand ambitions about learning to fly it, but those never came to fruition.”

  “Why not?”

  “Drake. Silly as it seems, when he came along, all of that wasn’t important anymore. And I had this fear that I would die in a fiery crash and then he’d be fatherless. Strange how your priorities shift when you have a child.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “No, I sold it a few years ago.”

  Ellie Goulding came on and I turned it up a little.

  “No one else knows about the money but my family. I haven’t told Raine. I don’t know why. It feel like it would make things weird.”

  “Money can do that. But your relationship is strong. I don’t think even a little bit of money could come between you two.” Well, wasn’t that the truth?

  “I know you’re right. I’m being stupid about it. I don’t know. I feel like I’m so off-balance. Everything has changed and I can’t seem to get back to normal. Or whatever that is now. Things are changing so fast.”

  “Life has a way of doing that,” he said.

  Yes. It did.

  We pulled up outside of a beautiful hotel.

  “Swanky,” I said as Declan got out of the car and handed the keys to the valet before coming over to open my door.

  “I thought I should spoil you tonight.” Yeah, like that was any different than the other times we’d gone out.

  “You know, this is a little coincidental given the conversation we just had.” He escorted me through the front door and toward the restaurant attached to the hotel.

  “True. But this hotel makes the best drinks around,” he said.

  “You trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?” I said as we walked into the dimly-lit bar.

  “I don’t need to get you drunk for that,” he whispered in my ear, shivers going down my spine.

  Yet another truth.

  “Good evening, sir, do you have a reservation?” the perky hostess asked.

  “Yes, it’s under Bennet.”

  The hostess scanned her book and then smiled.

  “Right this way, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet.” Wait, what? Declan winked at me as the hostess led us through the restaurant and to a private corner with a
table set for two.

  Declan held my chair out for me and the hostess handed me a menu.

  “Our wine and beer list is on the back, and our bartenders can make just about anything you could possibly want. I’ll give you a minute to look that over and then I’ll come back and tell you about our specials.”

  We thanked her and I glanced over the wine list.

  “What are you going to get?” I asked.

  “Are you feeling adventurous?” Declan said, scanning the menu.

  “Always.”

  The hostess came back and asked if we were ready for drinks.

  “Surprise us,” Declan said. She smiled and launched into the specials, going into great detail. I pretended I knew what she was talking about. I considered myself well-versed in cuisine, but some of the stuff was beyond my scope.

  She left us again to fetch our drinks and I finally looked the food section of the menu over.

  “Hey, what are you going to order?” I whispered.

  “Not sure yet. Anything look good? Or are you feeling adventurous again?”

  “Maybe.”

  Our server came back with our drinks. They were a light blue color and served in martini glasses.

  “It’s called an Aviator. The blue is supposed to look like the sky.” Well, it was pretty, that was for sure. I took a cautious sip and swallowed. It was good, but holy hell, it was strong. A few of these and I was going to be on the floor.

  “Are you ready to order?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Declan.

  “Yes. Surprise us,” Declan said, handing over the menus. The server looked at him in amazement.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “All right,” she said.

  I sipped my drink again and Declan held his up.

  “To surprises.” We clinked our glasses together and drank again. “That is strong,” he said, shaking his head as he swallowed.

  “I know. But it’s good. This is a really nice place. Thanks for bringing me here.”

  “You’re welcome, Blair.” He smiled at me and I watched the warm light bounce off his hair. I’d never known anyone who had hair that blond without chemical enhancement.