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Throw a Double for Spite

Page 3

by Cherie Mitchell


  Chapter Five

  Megan phoned on Monday evening, just as Riley was carrying the last sack of groceries in from the car. “Hi Megan.” Riley balanced the phone awkwardly between her ear and shoulder as she bumped the door open with her hip and sat the groceries on the counter. “Give me a minute. I’ve just arrived home.”

  “You can call me back.”

  “No, it’s ok. I’m almost done.” Riley kicked off her shoes and sat the phone on the counter before switching it to loudspeaker so she could unpack the groceries while she listened. “Talk to me. Tell me about your weekend. How was the wedding?”

  Megan’s long sigh snaked down the phone, the sound succinctly demonstrating without the need for words that all wasn’t rosy in paradise.

  “What?” Riley asked sharply. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened, but that’s the problem.” Her voice caught and dragged, signaling that she was rapidly descending into gloomy moroseness.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Is this about Dan?” Riley began to stack her perishable purchases onto the shelves of the fridge. She had the distinct impression that this was going to be a long conversation, and quite possibly one that was high in angst. She knew the signs by now; Megan’s relationships tended to end on long, heartfelt sighs accompanied by a thorough dissection of what might have gone wrong and whether or not Megan could have prevented it. She’d never voiced it to her directly, but she was certain that Megan’s lack of self-esteem and low self-confidence were a factor in the early demise of most of her romantic entanglements.

  “Yes, it’s about Dan.” Another sigh. “We had a long talk yesterday after the wedding and we’ve decided to call it quits. It was fun while it lasted but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere.”

  “What was the turning point? The wedding itself?”

  “Yeah, I think so. It is hard to watch a couple who are obviously in love while you come to terms with the fact that your own relationship doesn’t even come close. Dan has been distancing himself for weeks.”

  “And whose decision was it to end it?” Riley sniffed suspiciously at the open carton of milk in the fridge before tipping it down the sink and replacing it with the fresh one she’d just purchased.

  “It was kind of mutual but I knew he wanted to go. We tried to talk it out but in the end we agreed that we should finish it and remain friends.”

  “Well, it’s nice that it ended amicably. You have that to hold onto and I admire you for it.”

  “Yeah.” Megan didn’t sound convinced.

  “How long were you and Dan together?” Riley realized she had no idea of what the answer to this question might be. The weeks and months tended to blend together when looked at in retrospect and Dan hadn’t made enough of an impression for her to want to keep track of his existence in Megan’s life.

  “Five months. We didn’t even make it to six months.”

  “Well, at least you didn’t waste too much of your life on the wrong man.” Unlike all the years that I wasted on Michael. Riley fumbled a can of tuna and it dropped down onto the pantry shelf with a clatter.

  “I suppose so. He came around after work tonight to collect his stuff. Not that there was much for him to collect – a sweatshirt, a couple of CDs, and a half bottle of whiskey. He said I could have the whiskey but you know I don’t like it.”

  “No. I mean yes, I do know that you don’t like whiskey.” Riley frowned as she tucked another full tin of baking soda alongside the two tins already on the shelf. Why did she keep buying baking soda? It wasn’t even as if she used it very often. What part of her doomsday prepper subconscious was insisting on having a ready supply of baking soda at hand, for goodness sake?

  “I guess I just have to face the fact that I’m probably going to be single forever, the stereotypical old maid librarian,” Megan wailed despairingly.

  “Chin up. I still love you.” Riley was not about to join Megan in her self-indulgent wander down that particularly gloomy path. She folded the empty grocery bags and tucked them into a drawer, her mind now on what to have for dinner.

  “You do?”

  Riley recognized this part of Megan’s post-breakup pattern too. For a few weeks following the end of a relationship, Megan would be overly sensitive and needy, requiring multiple reassurances from her closest girlfriends that she was worthy of love and affection. “Of course I do. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you’re getting on, ok?”

  “Ok. Thanks Riley. I love you too.”

  Riley had just slid a chicken breast under the grill and started slicing the vegetables for a stir-fry meal when her phone beeped, this time with a text message. Expecting it to be Megan again, she jabbed her finger at the Read button. She glanced at the screen as she took a carrot from the plastic bag. Briar.

  ‘Hey u! How was yr weekend? Do you have time 4 a chat? B.’

  She tapped out a reply. ‘Cooking dinner. Call u later.’

  Riley swiped out of the message as a notification from the dating app flashed up on her screen. You have 1 new message from Jester One. Her heart gave a happy skip. Her virtual conversations with Steve had continued over most of the weekend. Steve had chatted to her about his bike ride, told her about a film he’d seen with friends on Saturday night, and messaged her again on Sunday evening to ask if she’d had a good day. In a remarkably short space of time, she’d come to look forward to his messages and she was developing what she believed to be a clear mental image of her new cyber suitor. She finished chopping the vegetables, slid them off the chopping board and into the oiled pan, and turned the heat to low while she leaned back against the counter to read the message.

  ‘Hey, I’ve just poured myself a glass of wine to enjoy while I make dinner. Thought of you and wished I was filling two glasses. x’

  Riley bit her lip, feeling girlish and giggly. Was it ridiculous for her to feel this way when she had yet to meet him? People could pretend to be anyone they wished while hiding behind the disguise of a digital screen. As Michael had shown her, people could even pretend to be anyone they wished while sharing your bed, telling you good morning, and smiling at you across the breakfast table. She put the phone down and picked up a wooden spatula to stir the vegetables. She wouldn’t reply straight away – she would enjoy the game and make him wait. She would eat her dinner as planned before washing the dishes and then calling Briar back. After that, she would casually respond to Steve’s message.

  By the time Riley turned on the shower before bed, she’d spoken to Briar on the phone for nearly an hour while her friend told her about her latest admirer, a man whom she’d met at a bar on the weekend, and she in turn had filled Briar in on her progress with Steve. She’d also sent Megan a text to say that she was thinking of her, and finally she’d engaged in another prolonged flirty, bantering message session with Steve.

  She climbed under the rush of water and tipped her face up to the deliciously warm stream, soaping her arms and recounting their conversations in her head. She’d read about plenty of online dating success stories and perhaps she and Steve were destined to become one of them. Stranger things had happened and she was ready for her fortunes to take a turn for the better. She’d just opened one eye and reached for the shampoo bottle when she heard something crash to the ground out in the kitchen. She gasped and blinked both eyes wide open, staring at the steam-covered cubicle door. She fumbled for the faucet and switched it off, her body taut with tension as she listened. Was someone out there? Had she locked the door behind her when she came in with the groceries? Breathing heavily and with her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her throat, she eased the shower door open and reached across to the rail for her towel. She hastily wrapped the towel around herself, stepped out of the cubicle, and listened again. Was that the thump of hurrying footsteps or was it merely the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears?

  She looked wildly around the bathroom, seeking something to use for a weapon. Seizing her shaver from the vanity and not stoppin
g to think of the inadequacy of the plastic handle and barely exposed blade, she wrenched the bathroom door open. “Who’s there? I’ve already phoned the police and they’re on their way.”

  Nothing. No sound, no reply. She took a tentative step out into the hallway. She could clearly see into the living room and see part of the kitchen counter from here. The apartment door, set into the wall on the far side of the living room, remained firmly closed. “Hello?” Ticklish trickles of water ran down her back and her legs, and puddles pooled behind her as she marched into the living room with the shaver held in her fist like a knife. “Is there anyone there? What do you want?”

  She stopped when she reached the kitchen and gave a quick, nervous laugh when she saw the source of the noise. One of the tins of baking soda had tumbled out of the pantry, knocking the pantry door open before landing on the floor, losing its lid, and spilling the powdery contents in a thick snowfall across the tiles.

  “Riley Preston, you’re a damned idiot.” Bemusedly shaking her head at her panicked overreaction, she returned to the bathroom to finish her shower before dealing with the mess.

  Chapter Six

  Riley was standing at the front desk talking to Lucy about a memo that Colin wanted her to type and distribute when the front door opened. Riley saw a flash of fluorescent orange out of the corner of her eye and then she turned to see Briar standing in the open doorway. She looked magnificent with her bare tanned arms, her shiny helmet of hair, steel cap boots, and the sun creating another pretty halo behind her head.

  “Briar! I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “I’m still working on that site a few blocks away from here. Are you free for lunch? It’s a lovely day out,” she added encouragingly.

  “Uh...” Riley looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall behind her as Lucy excused herself to get another ream of paper for the printer from the stationery cupboard next to Angus’s office. “I wasn’t going to take a lunch break today. We’re trying to finish a project that’s already past its deadline.”

  “That’s ok. I was just passing and thought it was worth asking.” She allowed the door to close and wandered over to lean her elbows on the reception counter. She smiled into Riley’s eyes, bringing the sun indoors with her. “Do you want me to go and get you a coffee and a sandwich to eat at your desk? You still need to eat, regardless of deadlines.”

  “You’re an angel but honestly, I’m fine. We have a coffee machine in the breakroom and I’ve brought in leftovers from my dinner last night to reheat in the microwave. How’s the new romance going?”

  Briar shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him and I’m certainly not going to be the first to call. And anyway, I wouldn’t call it a romance by any stretch of the imagination. It was a hook up that suited both of us at the time.”

  Riley nodded. She was vaguely envious of Briar’s casual approach to relationships, although the same approach had never worked for her. Unfortunately, her heart needed to be somewhat involved before she could give herself up to the physical aspects of a new dalliance.

  “Do you have a few minutes, Riley? Angus has been looking for you.” Paul walked out of the adjoining open plan office with his empty coffee cup in his hand. He stopped when he saw Briar, his face registering a curious combination of admiration and fear. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you had a visitor.”

  Briar gave Riley a mischievous grin before stepping forward with her hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Riley’s friend Briar. You wouldn’t be Paul by any chance, would you? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Riley inwardly groaned, vowing to scold Briar later. She instantly regretted telling the other woman about Paul’s clumsy pass. She certainly didn’t need Paul getting the idea that she’d been talking to her friends about him, that he might be important enough to discuss once she was away from the office.

  Paul looked pleased, flustered, and appalled all at once. His face was a portrait in pink as his Adam’s apple danced a tango in his throat. He shook Briar’s hand, his eyes fixed on hers as he stumbled out a greeting. “Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Riley’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Exactly. I feel the same way myself.” Briar gave his hand a couple of enthusiastic pumps before releasing it.

  Lucy had returned from the stationery cupboard with the paper and she began to bang around with the printer. Riley cleared her throat and glanced at the clock again.

  “You’re busy and I should get back to the mortar and bricks. Nice to meet you, Paul. Bye, Riley. Maybe we can catch up for a drink later in the week.” Briar had already wrenched the door open, poised to leave.

  Riley was acutely aware of Paul’s eyes upon her. “Text me. I’ll have to check my calendar.”

  Briar lifted her hand in a wave and the door hushed shut behind her.

  Paul raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Mortar and bricks?”

  “She works as a supervisor and project manager for a construction company. Are you happy enough to get on with that on your own now, Lucy?”

  “Houses? Does she build houses?”

  “Commercial properties. Give me a call if you get stuck again, Lucy.”

  “Well, that explains her outfit. She’s very striking.” He nodded, looking suitably impressed. He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and his eyes were dreamy as he pressed the cup against his chest. “I’ve always wanted to do some kind of physical job like that but the opportunity never presented itself.”

  Riley gave him a quick smile and murmured that she’d better get back to work. She returned to her desk to finish her task, opening a new document on her screen and reaching for a pad of sticky notes. Her phone, switched to silent, vibrated from inside her drawer. Certain that it would be text from Briar, laughing at her expense after meeting Paul, she pulled the drawer open to glance at the screen. You have 1 new message from Jester One. Her heart did one of those crazy pitter-patters, a hop and a jump that appeared to be connected to the invisible strings responsible for tugging her smile into place. She hurriedly shut the drawer again and determinedly returned her hands to her computer keyboard, her eyes on the monitor. She would check the message later; she didn’t need any more distractions today.

  “Riley!” Angus stuck his bullish head out of his office and roared her name, startling her so much that her fingers skittered across the keyboard and added a bunch of random letters to the page.

  She frowned across the room at her boss. “I’m right here, Angus. You don’t need to shout.”

  “Have you got a minute? I want to have a meeting with you and Paul,” he rumbled, deaf to her disapproval and without dropping his volume by a notch.

  Michael, the company’s IT whiz, gave her a sympathetic grimace from his desk on the other side of the office. She suppressed her sigh, deleted the short row of unwanted letters from the document, and reduced the screen to reveal the photo of a row of cherry trees she used as screensaver. Why were some days impossible to navigate through?

  It was late by the time Riley finally left the now empty office. She stabbed in the security code on the control panel by the door and walked through the empty, darkened parking lot to her car. Her high heels tapped loudly on the asphalt, echoing eerily off the looming brick wall of the office block. She yawned as she fumbled in her bag for her keys and unlocked the door, checking her phone before starting the car. The earlier notification from Jester One was still on the screen and she clicked into the message before starting the car. ‘Can I call you tonight? I’d like to hear your voice x’

  Riley didn’t hesitate. After the day she’d had, it would be nice to end it with a real conversation with her intriguing online beau. She balanced her phone on the steering wheel before tapping her phone number into the response field and pushing Send.

  Something banged against the window beside her ear and she shrieked. She dropped the phone and it bounced off the edge of the seat before tumbling to the floor where it lay half-hidden beneath the seat. Paul, bending to the same level
as her from outside the car, pulled an apologetic face. He made a circular gesture with his hand, motioning for her to wind down the window.

  “What are you doing, Paul? I thought you’d left ages ago.” She didn’t attempt to soften the sharp edge in her voice.

  “Sorry. I came back to the office to get a bit of work done while it’s quiet. I didn’t expect you to still be here. Look, can I buy you a drink before you head off?” He had turned up his coat collar against the evening chill and it framed his pinched face. The light from the street lamp, while brutal from some angles had for now added false sparkle and life to his eyes.

  She switched on the ignition and reached for her seat belt. “To be honest, all I want to do is go home and put my feet up. It’s been a long day.”

  “I understand. Maybe later in the week?” His breath made puffs of steam on the still air and he hadn’t made any move to take his hand away from the window lip. Riley pointedly shoved the gearstick into reverse and began to inch the vehicle back. He lifted his hand off the car but kept pace with the slowly rolling vehicle. “What about Friday? I’m free on Friday evening.”

  She abruptly plunged her foot onto the brake and stared up into his face, which was now half hidden in the shadow of the building. “I don’t think so, Paul. As I already said to you, I have a lot going on in my life.”

  “Right.” He stood away from the car and plunged his hands deep into his coat pockets. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

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