Cupcake Overload

by Bethany Lopez

  I walked through the alley until I reached the back of the house, then let myself in with the code that the Mrs. had provided.

  I paused inside the house, keeping my breath even so I could hear any possible noises that would alert me if someone were coming. I heard something off in the distance, something like a woman’s laugh, then the pounding of feet above me, followed by the loud squeak of springs.

  Surmising that they were in the bedroom, and had just moved their festivities to the bed, I moved through the house to the stairs, then took the steps slowly up.

  When there was a distinctive creak beneath my feet, I paused, heart pounding, and kept my eyes up on the landing.

  Please don’t let them have heard me…

  When they didn’t come, I let out a shot of breath, then toed my shoes off and picked them up, shoving them deep into the recesses of my large over-the-shoulder bag. Once they were in, I grabbed my camera and secured it around my neck, then continued my ascent.

  Once I reached the landing, I followed the sounds to a room down the hall with the door partially open, and peered inside.

  I could see bodies moving on the bed, but couldn’t get a shot that would include both of their faces.

  I needed to move farther in to the room.

  I waited until I saw a few articles of clothing flung from the bed, and the covers come up to cover the newly naked bodies.

  Thank God.

  Pushing the door slowly, I crouched and sort of crab walked inside, just in case one of them happened to glance toward the doorway. I caught sight of a large dresser pushed up against the corner, with what looked like a good hidey-hole for me to slip in to, and crab walked my way to it.

  Once I was somewhat secure, I raised my camera and waited for them to bob and weave so that I could get a good look. The man’s face bobbed into my viewfinder, and I waited patiently for the woman to get in frame as well.

  I did my best to block out the groans and sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other, but it was really hard when the woman started shouting shit out.

  “Oh, yeah, give it to me hard…”

  “C’mon, baby, bite me…”

  I kept my camera steady and focused. Waiting … waiting … Waiting…

  Oh, hell no, I thought, lowering my camera to get a better look. Yup, it is … Freakin’ Slutty Shirley Finkle was getting it on with Mr. Beaverton right in front of me.

  I couldn’t believe she was over here breaking up another marriage. Is there something wrong with single guys? Was it the challenge? Or was she just an enemy of women?

  I raised my camera again with new determination. This bitch was going down, and I was going to get the evidence my client needed to make sure no one was getting her money.

  I got a couple shots off, but I wasn’t certain their faces were both clearly visible, so I wanted more.

  “I burn for you, baby…”

  That’s what Slutty Shirtley Finkle said.

  What I said, out loud, was, “It’s probably the gonorrhea.”

  Oh shit!

  I slapped my hand over my mouth and tried to become one with the corner. Had I really just said that out loud? Oh. My. God!

  Movement on the bed stopped, and I swear, everyone in the room was holding their breath.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” Beaverton bellowed from on top of SSF, and I looked their way, certain I was going to see them both staring back at me.

  I may have peed in my pants a little.

  But when I opened my eyes, he was glaring down at her.

  “That I burn for you?” SSF said uncertainly, and I realized that she’d been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t heard what I’d said, but Beaverton had.

  “You have fucking gonorrhea?” Beaverton shouted, and got off of her like a man on fire.

  “What?” SSF screeched. “No I don’t!”

  “Bullshit. Why’d you say that then?”

  “I was trying to make you hot, you know, get you there.”

  “You’ve got a sick sense of humor,” he said, grabbing his pants and putting them on as he backed out of the door. “Get dressed and get the fuck out.”

  “Wait? What?” SSF cried, obviously confused. She jumped up and followed after him, and I heard her say, “I don’t have gonorrhea. I had herpes once, but they went away.”

  Jesus, I needed to get out of there. And, I probably needed to tell Eric to get checked for herpes…

  I made sure my kids had dinner and were doing their homework, threw a few hot Cheetos in my mouth, and thanked Shannon for helping me out with the kids.

  “Anytime, Lila, you know that. I love Elin and Elena,” Shannon said sweetly, then laid a hand on my arm and added, “I’m glad you and Bea made up. You know we weren’t trying to hurt you.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling small and guilty. “And I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk. I’m over-the-moon happy for you guys.”

  “Thanks,” Shannon replied, beaming.

  “Well, I’d better get going.”

  “Okay, but, Lila, I won’t bring up where you went or what you’re doing, but if Bea asks, I won’t lie to her.”

  “I know,” I said, then gave her a quick hug before leaving for Carmen’s place.

  Carmen lived in these super cute lofts downtown. She was single with no kids or pets, so the space was perfect for her. Plus, it was walkable to work, restaurants, bars, and just about everything downtown.

  Sometimes, when the sound of kids fighting surrounded me, housework needed to be done, and I needed to figure out what to do for dinner, I thought about Carmen’s life and yearned for it.

  I parked in the garage and took the elevator up, swinging the short blonde wig in my hand as I checked myself over in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Short, tight skirt, low-cut revealing top, and heavy makeup, paired with dressy flats. Not my best look, but I thought it fit what I was going for.

  My hair was already tied back and secured, so I placed the wig on my head and pulled it this way and that, until it was positioned correctly on my head.

  Wow, I looked like a totally different person.

  I positioned myself in front of Carmen’s door, hip thrust out in what was supposed to be a sexy pose, and knocked three times.

  Carmen opened the door, looked me up and down, and asked, “How much for two hours?”

  I started giggling, breaking character, then asked, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  Carmen looked down at her dark print romper, her messy bun flopping to the side with the movement.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I said dress slutty, you look like an ad for Urban Outfitters.”

  “Well, I didn’t know what you meant,” Carmen complained as she ushered me inside. “I’ve never been to The Stagger In, I don’t know what they wear there. And this romper shows off a lot of leg and cleavage, so…”

  “Take me to your closet,” I demanded.

  Once I had her in short shorts, a tight tank top that I transformed into a tube top, and her hair in a high, messy bun, I deemed her fit for The Stagger In, and we were off.

  The Stagger In was a dump, and that was being generous.

  Dark, dirty, with a hint of seedy, the bar was filled with rough dudes and strung-out women. The TVs were turned to various sporting events, and the only thing on tap was Budweiser.

  Carmen and I went straight for the bar. I ordered us two rum and Cokes, thinking that would be a safe enough drink. Wouldn’t get us too drunk, but wouldn’t make us look like foo foo drinkers either. We needed to fit in any way we could.

  Carmen sniffed the glass, then grimaced before taking a sip.

  “Wow, that’s pretty much straight rum.”

  “Drink slowly, you want to keep your wits about you,” I advised, then leaned back against the bar to survey the area.

  There was no dance floor, but there was a jukebox with a man and woman wrapped around each other in front of it. I wouldn’t call what they were doing dancing;
it was more like dry humping while standing up.

  Hmmm, that takes talent…

  Moving on, my eyes took in the random biker, chick in four-inch heels who looked about to topple over, and group of men playing pool and taunting each other loudly, before landing on four men sitting in a corner booth. They were pretty well hidden, but I could see that two of the men looked to be packing heat, while the one in the middle seemed to be the boss.

  He was shorter than I expected, maybe around my height, with dark slicked-back hair and a lot of jewelry. Not cool jewelry like Cade’s, more like big clunky gold pieces that he wore to show how important he was.

  The man screamed sleaze ball, and I was sure I was looking at Dale the Bookie.

  I leaned in to whisper to Carmen.

  “You go talk to those women over there.” I lifted my chin toward a table to the left of us, where a bunch of women were doing shots and talking over each other. “See if any of them knew Samantha. I’m going to find out if that’s Dale.”

  “Okay,” Carmen said, her voice tinged with excitement. “Be careful.”

  I nodded, then sauntered away. I went to the jukebox, leaned against so as to show off plenty of legs and ass, then bent slightly and pretended to search for a song.

  When I felt a hand touch my ass, then cup it and begin to lower, I straightened and turned quickly, almost falling over before that same hand grabbed my elbow and steadied me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Cade asked, and I wasn’t sure if I was pleased it had been his hand on my ass, or pissed that he’d followed me here.

  “Working,” I snapped, pushing his hand away. “What are you doing here?”

  “You said you’d be here, so I figured we could talk to this bookie together,” Cade answered, his brow furrowed as he took in my getup. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “I don’t know, Cade, maybe because I’m here to get close to a bookie and I didn’t think my normal mom clothes would work,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

  “You always look hot,” Cade said, and my heart warmed, until he ruined it by adding, “Except now. Now you look trashy. What happened to your hair?”

  “Can we maybe talk about this later?” I whispered, looking over to see that Dale was getting up from his booth.

  “You want to talk to scum like that guy,” Cade said, gesturing behind him with his thumb to indicate Dale and his goons. “You let me know and I’ll take care of it. What you don’t do is try to dress like one of his girls and try to seduce him. I’m not okay with that shit.”

  “What do you mean one of his girls?” I asked, using air quotations. “And how would you handle it, since you seem to think my way’s so wrong?”

  I looked around Cade to see Carmen watching us with wide eyes, I gave her a thumbs up and turned my attention back to the angry man in front of me.

  “He runs hookers,” Cade replied, and I had to admit, I was shocked by this new information. I decided that I hated Dale the Bookie slash Pimp. “And this is how I handle shit…”

  Before I could say anything else, Cade turned, strode through the goons and right up to Dale. Then, I kid you not, he lifted Dale up by the throat and carried him through the bar and out the back door.

  My startled eyes found Carmen, whose mouth was hanging wide open, then we both got our shit together and ran after them.

  The goons were either afraid of Cade’s size, or he had a reputation, because although they followed Cade and Dale outside, they hadn’t made a move to try and stop him.

  Carmen and I were almost to the door when from behind us we heard, “What the hell is going on?”

  We spun in unison to see Bea standing before us. Her hair was still wet from a shower and she was wearing a pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt. I assumed she’d been about to go home from work, when Shannon had spilled the beans on my location.

  “We’ve gotta go,” Carmen said, as eager to see Cade beat the shit out of Dale as I was.

  “Yeah, Cade’s out there with Dale,” I added, ready to spin on my heel and sprint out the back.

  “Who’s Dale, and why did Cade grab him by the throat?” Bea asked, her tone getting all cop-like.

  “Maybe you should stay in here,” I suggested, then not wanting to waste any more time, I grabbed Carmen’s hand and pulled her away with me.

  We each put a hand on the door and pushed it in tandem, our heads swinging to and fro until we saw the small group of men along the wall to the right of the alley.

  Cade still had his hand around Dale’s neck and was holding him up against the brick wall, so that his feet dangled. The goons were on either side of them, each with a hand at their side, and closely watching the exchange between the other two men. Cade was only a foot away from Dale and his head was bent close as he said something in Dale’s ear.

  We were too far away to hear what was being said, but if the sickly pallor of Dale’s skin was any indication, Cade wasn’t inviting him and his goons out for brunch.

  “I should probably break that up,” Bea said softly from my left side.

  “Nah,” Carmen said in a hushed voice. “I think Cade has it handled.”

  “See what I said about needing to work out,” I whispered to Carmen as I watched my man squeeze Dale’s neck ever so slightly. “Shit gets crazy sometimes.”

  “I’ve been telling you to work out more,” Bea chided.

  “I know, and I took you on your advice. Just so happens, I ran in to Branson Braswell at the gym and now he’s giving me self-defense lessons.”

  “Really? That’s cool. I could come by, show you some stuff I learned at the academy.”

  “That would be awesome,” I said softly, then pointed at Carmen.

  “I’m trying to get her to come, too.”

  “You should,” Bea said, leaning around me so she could look at Carmen. “It’s always a good thing to know how to defend yourself. I’m sure you’ve come across some assholes, working at the paper.”

  When Carmen was uncharacteristically silent, I teased, “I think she likes Bran. Just the mention of his name makes her mute.”

  “Shut up,” Carmen said, finding her voice, and causing Bea and me to laugh.

  “It’s okay, Carmen, Bran is totally hot. It’s okay if he makes you tongue tied,” I said, choking back laughter.

  “He’s single, right?” Bea asked.

  “Sure is,” I replied, giving Carmen a nudge with my elbow. “You should ask him out.”

  “Ladies,” Cade called, startling me and pulling me back in to the situation. “If you’re done playing matchmaker, did you want to come over here and ask the bookie a couple questions?”

  Blushing at being caught having girl talk on the job, I called, “Yes, please,” then hustled over to the guys, giving my friends one last grin and eyebrow wag over my shoulder.

  “Seriously?” Cade asked when I got to him.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, then turned my attention to Dale the Dick. “When’s the last time you saw Samantha Stacker?”

  When Dale didn’t answer right away, Cade tightened his grip, until Dale answered, “I saw her a couple days before she was whacked.”

  “What did she want with you?”

  “To take care of her dumbass brother’s debt.”

  “And, did she?”

  “Nah, we couldn’t come to a mutual agreement,” Dale said, and even in his current position, he managed to sneer.

  “Why not?”

  “Cause she couldn’t afford to pay, and she didn’t want to work it off.”

  “So you killed her?”

  “Nah, I got no problem with her. If I was gonna whack someone, it’d be Tony.”

  Before I could ask anything else, someone busted out of another door and yelled, “What the hell’s going on here? Get inside and buy drinks, or get off my property.”

  Cade let Dale loose and pulled me back a couple steps.

  “I’ll be back if we have any other questions,�
� Cade said.

  “How ‘bout you just fuckin’ call next time?” Dale asked, then righted his clothes and tried to walk away with his head held high, his goons trailing close behind him.

  Bea and Carmen walked over to us, and Cade took the three of us in with a shake of his head.

  “Let’s get you guys out of here,” he said, and I surmised I was going to be in trouble by the slight anger I heard in his voice.

  “My car is at Carmen’s,” I said. “We walked.”

  I tried to ignore Cade’s glare when Bea said, “I’ve got my car. I’ll take you both to Carmen’s.”

  Cade walked us to Bea’s car, then said,” I’ll see you at the house,” before getting on his bike and driving off.

  “Someone’s in trouble…” Carmen said as we loaded up in the car.

  I turned in my seat and grinned at her.

  “I hope my punishment’s a spanking.”

  Carmen’s face fell as she pouted. “Show off.”

  “What are you doing?” Cade asked as I dug through my refrigerator.

  I’d made a beeline for it as soon as I’d walked in and saw Cade leaning against my counter, waiting for me like I was a teenager sneaking in past curfew.

  I ignored him as I pawed through the contents of my fridge, then sighed, “Eureka,” when I found the last cupcake stashed behind a carton of chocolate milk.

  “Lila,” Cade said, a hint of smile in his voice.

  I turned to him guiltily and asked, “Did you know that desserts is stressed spelled backwards?” Then took a big, satisfying bite.

  “That explains a lot,” Cade replied with a grin, then pushed off the counter and strode toward me, his hands going immediately to the wig and pulling it off my head. “Did you get what you needed from the bookie?”

  I shook my head and swallowed, then said, “Nah, I kind of believe him when he says he didn’t kill her. What reason would he have, when it’s Tony that owed him. I thought maybe he’d done it to get revenge, or as collateral, or something, but my gut tells me that he’s telling the truth. I’m afraid I’m back at square one, and have nothing to clear Sledge.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Cade said as he loosened my hair. “Now, let’s talk about you going into a place like that without backup.”