by Debbie Civil
Chapter 8
Carmen
Jake has avoided me all week. I’ve spent four days in bed because of this damn ankle and other than the night he carried me in here, Jake hasn’t kept me company. I have no idea why I’m surprised. Guys like Jake aren’t easily wheeled in. They are hard to get through to. I smile at myself, thinking that he will be quite the challenge. But the problem is, there aren’t any experts I can ask. Dom and Jake haven’t been good friends in years. Other than the obligatory beer, I doubt that the two of them spend much time together. Danny can’t stand her brother. She thinks that he’s an ungrateful idiot with too much testosterone. Don’t get me started on what Eli thinks of him. She likes her secret half-brother well enough, but… I could ask Peter and Chelsea. They might have some insight about Jake. Because I don’t feel like texting Chelsea to ask if she’s busy, I carefully get out of bed and slide my feet into my flip-flops. My ankle is at 95 percent, so I haven’t worked out all week. And believe me, the non-activity has been killing me. I leave my room and walk down the hall and knock.
“Come in,” Peter calls and I do. Chelsea’s husband is at the round table reading a textbook and taking notes. Evidently, he signed up for an online class to get him ahead of the game. Since Peter is a pre-med major, I don’t blame him.
“Hi,” I say casually as I take a seat across from him. Peter closes his book, and his kind dark eyes are inviting. He isn’t my cup of tea when it comes to guys because he’s too nice, but, Chelsea is lucky to have him.
“What’s up?”
“I want to talk to you about something,” I say as I hear the sounds of water being drained from the bathroom. Chelsea is probably done with her bath.
“What about?” Chelsea shouts through the door.
“A certain boy,” I reply and Peter looks interested.
“Don’t say a word until I get out there,” Chelsea orders and I laugh. Out of all of my cousins, Chelsea is my favorite. She likes me for who I am and always allows me to speak my opinions. I’m lucky that Grandmother insisted on taking her in.
“Are you hungry? Chelsea and I were about to order pizzas,” Peter tells me.
“I’m starving!” He smiles at my enthusiasm.
“Do you want a pepper and onion pizza?” Peter asks.
“Yes,” I respond. Peter orders an extra-large pepper and onion pizza and a medium pepperoni pizza and gives the person his credit card information and hangs up.
“How’s work?” I ask. Peter grins.
“It’s not so bad, actually. Justin is allowing me to edit some of the books. I mostly check for spelling errors and plot holes. Apparently, I’m a natural,” Peter tells me.
“I read Query letters,” Chelsea reports as she walks out of the bathroom wearing a t-shirt and sweats. Her wet hair is loose, and she is barefoot. After giving Peter a kiss on the forehead, she sits at the table.
“And how’s that?” I ask. Chelsea grins.
“You won’t believe some of the ideas that I’ve read. My favorite is an entry about a fantasy novel. So this woman pitched an idea about magical toe nails that when ingested, blew people up from the inside. The title was The Revenge of the Toe Nail. I requested to read the first 25 pages and let me just say, the writing was worse than the idea,” Chelsea giggles.
“Why did you do that?” I ask.
“Because, I wanted to see how someone would write something like that,” Chelsea confesses. “Justin gave me a two-hour lecture about productivity and giving an author false hope. He’s right. That was stupid of me,” Chelsea admits.
“Your rejection letter may have helped the author,” Peter insists.
“Yeah. When you reject someone its company policy to fill out a form. You have to be brutally honest about it. And believe me, I was honest.” I don’t think that I would have liked the rejection process. But I suppose that rejection is a part of life. Just thinking of the word conjures up images of Jake. What is he doing? Where is he? I tried going by his room, and he wasn’t home. Unfortunately for me, Jake doesn’t keep his door unlocked, so I couldn’t snoop. That’s all right though, Sandra keeps an extra set of keys in the laundry room.
“So,” I begin, not knowing where to start. It’s unnerving to have all of this attention on me. I frown as Peter and Chelsea both stare me down with curious eyes. “Jake and I kissed.” Neither of them looks surprised by the admission.
“That’s exciting! You finally noticed Jake?” Chelsea asks the question while giving me a glare. What does she mean by I finally noticed Jake? I’ve always noticed him. He was just unattainable.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“Jake likes you. I can tell. You should have seen how he reacted after you got shot.” Chelsea winces at the memory but I stare at her curiously.
“And how was that?” Peter holds up a hand to stop his wife.
“What’s wrong, Carmen?” He’s concerned about me. Chelsea is so focused on the kiss aspect that she doesn’t realize that there must be more to the story. I take a deep breath and tell them all about the night at the steakhouse.
“Wildflower was there?” Peter asks, surprised.
“Who is she?” I ask him, shooting Peter a hard glare. He shakes his head.
“Ask Jake. That’s his story to tell.” Chelsea looks disappointed. But before she can voice it, Bob wields a cart in. It has our pizzas, some plates, and a couple of bottled waters, a bottle of lemonade, and a Dr. Pepper.
“Do you need me to stay and serve you?” His question is filled with malice.
“We’re fine,” Peter answers and the man leaves the room. That’s another man that I need to investigate. Why hasn’t Grandma fired him? When I asked her, she told me to leave her bedroom. There is something up with Bob.
“Who’s Wildflower?” Chelsea asks Peter.
“That’s Jake’s story to tell,” Peter says before serving us Pizza. As we eat and talk about mundane things, I can’t shake that Jake is hiding something big. Whatever he’s hiding may be effecting our relationship. Is Wild Flower his girlfriend?
I end up cutting out early. If I’m going to find answers, I’m going to do it while Jake’s gone. I take the elevator to the basement level, thinking that I might as well steal the keys. When the door opens, I freeze. Someone is having an argument.
“Don’t be stupid,” Bob shouts.
“We can’t leave,” Sandra snaps at him. “If we leave, Betty might change her mind about the terms.”
“We need to leave, Sandra. I think that Kate’s on to us.” His voice quivers and I frown. Why would they care about Kate?
“If she is, what is she going to do about it, Bob? She can’t kill us, you know that.”
“Judging by what happened to Amy, she doesn’t have qualms about killing the help,” Bob reasons.
“Besides, she’s moving to California. Her daughter Chelsea is funding the trip. Or didn’t you hear,” Sandra laughs.
“I thought Chelsea wouldn’t give her any money,” Bob protests.
“No, she stole money from Chelsea a couple years back. She’s using that money, combined with the million she was able to squeeze out of her brother to start a new life. The old lady will continue to pay us, don’t worry.” I’d heard enough. I press the button for the elevator, and it comes down. I quietly enter the elevator and see that Tia and Alec are in the car. The door takes forever to close. But when it does, I stare Tia down hard.
“I wasn’t here,” I frantically hiss. “You didn’t see me down here.” I have a sneaking suspicion that somehow Bob will find out that I overheard their conversation. I’m not sure what to do about this. Who do I tell? Only one person comes to mind, my father. I tell him everything. He even knows about my obsession with Dom, though he didn’t approve. So that’s where I’ll go, to my father. And maybe he’ll figure out what’s going on.
