Pretty Ever After (Chicago Nights Book 3)

by Tabatha Kiss

  “All right, so…” I reach across the table to pat Nora’s arm. “Stay positive. Don’t lose hope.”

  “Yeah…” She exhales. “I haven’t broken it to Clive just yet. Not sure how he’ll react.”

  “Daddy can take it,” Trix says, drawing Nora’s upward brow. “Daddy’s a good, strong Daddy.”

  Nora glances at Haley, whose cheeks seem about ready to burst. “Maybe we shouldn’t use the Daddy talk around Haley…”

  I smirk. “Yeah, she’s looks a little pink.”

  Trix nods. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Haley sinks lower into her chair and hides behind her glass of orange juice.

  “Anyway…” I say. “Are you all still coming to my parents’ holiday party this Saturday?”

  “Oh, I’d never miss an opportunity to gorge myself on your mother’s snickerdoodles,” Nora says. “I’m bringing Clive. Is that cool?” She winces. “Maybe I should have called your mother before telling him he could come…”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I say. “Mom gets bored if she’s surrounded by Dad’s golfing buddies for too long. Bring Clive. Lance, too,” I add for Trix. “The more the merrier Christmas, as we Roses say. Sometimes, anyway.”

  Trix shrugs. “Sure, we’ll come. Isn’t it a little early for a Christmas party, though?”

  “Yeah, but Mom and Dad booked a cruise,” I explain. “They set sail next week and won’t be back until after New Year’s, so instead of canceling the party outright, they’re just throwing it early.”

  Trix playfully sneers at Haley. “Rich people problems. Am I right?”

  Haley chuckles.

  Nora swoons. “I think it’s sweet your parents are enjoying their early retirement.”

  “They are,” I say. “Unfortunately for Drew, they’re enjoying it a little too much. They’re enjoying it in the kitchen, in the living room, in the pool house…”

  She gasps. “Oh, no…”

  “Yup. The poor kid has apparently started announcing himself before entering a room. There is not enough eye bleach in the world to cleanse what he’s seen, or say he says.”

  “Hey, you should do that,” Trix says to Haley. “Or wear a bell or something. You know, just a suggestion.”

  Haley cringes.

  Five

  Robbie

  “Hey, guys,” I say, looking at the faces in the circle of chairs. “My name is Robbie and I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Hey, Robbie!” they all say in unison.

  Their voices echo throughout the large gymnasium of the community center as they grin at me with familiarity.

  “So...” I shift on my chair, leaning back as I bite my cheek and prep what I’m about to say. “I spent the night at my ex-wife’s last night...”

  Their faces instantly drop, and they collectively let out a loud groan. A few of them throw up their hands in defeat while others tear out pages from their notebooks to ball up and throw at me.

  “Hey! Hey!” I say, blocking a few paper missiles as they launch at my head. “Come on! I thought this was a support group.”

  “Nope.” Betty wags her head back and forth from across the circle. “I can’t support this.”

  “Bad idea, buddy,” Greg says in the chair beside her.

  “Idiot,” someone says on my left.

  They all nod in agreement.

  I lift a hand as their voices rise. “Okay, first of all—”

  “She destroyed you, Robbie,” Greg says. “What are you doing?”

  Betty nods. “Girl ain’t nothing but trouble,” she mutters.

  “Nothing happened,” I finish. “It’s not what you think, all right? I got a call from the bartender at my favorite place. My old favorite place. He said she was there all alone, and that she was pretty messed up. What was I supposed to do? Ignore it?”

  “Yes!” they all say.

  I roll my eyes. “I went out there, I put her in a cab, and I got her home safely. I did the right thing. I did the thing... the thing she did for me a hundred times.”

  They go quiet, their eyes dropping in understanding.

  I pause. “And then she tried to kiss me.”

  They groan again.

  “Nothing happened!” I point a stiff finger at them. “And what’s with this can’t support this crap? How many times have I defended you guys, huh? Greg.” I point at him. “When you snuck a glass of champagne at your daughter’s wedding, what did I say?”

  He nods. “Your baby girl only gets hitched once.”

  “That’s right! And Betty.” I shift to her. “Who helped you write the apology letter to the school board after you showed up wasted to a PTA meeting? Twice.”

  “You did,” she answers with a reluctant groan.

  “Roger!” I point at him in the chair to my right. He raises his head in acknowledgment. “When you dated that woman and her daughter at the same time behind their backs, did I judge you?”

  “No, but you probably should have,” he says. “That was a low one for me.”

  “But still.” I wag my finger at them. “I supported you guys. Where’s the love?”

  “We do love you, Robbie,” Betty says. “That’s why we don’t want to see you get messed up again. That girl put you in a dark place and I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring her back into your life like that.”

  The group nods in agreement.

  “Look, I get it,” I say. “I do. But... come on, she needed my help. She’s the love of my life. The whole reason I’m here at all is because of her.”

  Roger swoons, along with a few other ladies in the group.

  “It’s your decision, Rob,” Greg says. “But being around her... don’t be surprised if some bad habits come back, too. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

  They nod again.

  “I have all of this under control,” I say. “I mean, I was sexting with her anonymously for weeks and I didn’t slip up once.”

  Another paper ball launches at my head as the group recoils in disgust.

  I open the door to my building, quickly sliding back as a guy tries to leave at the same time. We give each other a few manly head nods as he passes by and I continue on inside, fishing into my pocket for my keys. I pause in the lobby, zeroing in on my mailbox on the wall out of habit.

  “There you are!”

  A young woman descends the stairs behind me. Val from 4B. My landlord’s barely legal daughter. She just got back from a semester abroad in Paris, a fact she slips into literally every conversation possible just to show how deep and mature she is.

  “Here I am...” I say, focusing on my mailbox.

  “You’re out early for a Sunday,” she says, casually wrapping a green scarf around her neck.

  “Just getting in, actually.”

  Her head tilts with curiosity, making her bleached bangs dip to the side. “Oh?” she asks. “Did you go to a party last night?”

  I grab the letters from my mailbox and close it up. “Crashed at a friend’s place.”

  She forces a smile. “A girlfriend?”

  “Long story.” I raise the envelopes to my forehead and give her a casual salute as I pass. “I got to run, Val. I’ll see you around.”

  “Okay. Bye, Robbie. Oh—” She takes a step closer. “You wouldn’t have anything going on this Thursday night, would you, baby?”

  I hesitate, cringing deep down at the way she calls me baby. “Not sure...”

  “Because I’m having a little get-together in my unit. Nothing too fancy. Just some music and drinks with some friends from school. We haven’t gotten together like this since I came home from abroad.”

  “Rome, was it?” I ask.

  “No, silly!” She brightens up and slaps my arm. “Paris!”

  I scoff, playing dumb. “Someday I’ll get it down, I’m sure.”

  “Well, I thought that maybe you’d like to pop your ruggedly handsome head in for a while.” She smiles wider. “Make it a real party.”

  “I don’t know,”
I say, gently backing away. “I might have something that night…”

  “Just say maybe.”

  “Maybe.”

  I take a step to the left, but she leans in again.

  “Let me know,” she says. “I’m only two doors down.”

  And only one door down from the landlord, Mr. White.

  Her dad.

  The ex pro-wrestler.

  I chuckle. “Okay, Val. Will do. Byeeee.”

  I walk around her, taking a wide step to get to the stairs even faster. I bolt up them two at a time without looking back, winding myself by the time I reach the fourth floor, but the last thing I want is for Mr. White to see his daughter all over me.

  I unlock my door and rush inside, checking my mail as I go. I grab the two obvious bills from the stack and tear the rest down the middle before tossing them in the kitchen trash.

  “Hey, guys,” I say to my aquarium, genuinely happy to see my fish. I walk into the living room and stand in front of my bookshelf, taking a deep, soothing breath as I watch the bubbles rise from a treasure chest near the bottom corner.

  Nice, relaxing—

  The door opens behind me.

  I groan as I spin back around. “Val, I said maybe—” I pause, relieved to see Trix standing in the doorway. “Oh, good. It’s just you.”

  “Yeah,” she says as she nudges the door closed in annoyance. “It’s just me, the pregnant girl who had to chase you up four flights of stairs.”

  I cringe as I reach for the bottle of fish food on the shelf. “Sorry about that. You okay?”

  “I’ll live, I guess.” She slides her coat off. “Who’s Val?”

  “My neighbor,” I answer as I dump a small bit of fish food into the water. Three goldfish swim out of their hiding places, eager to gobble up the little bits. “She can be a real… whatever. What’s up with you?”

  I wander back to the kitchenette, and Trix approaches me, looking more serious than usual.

  “You need to talk to Melanie,” she says.

  I shake my head. “I already talked to Melanie once today. Any further communication might alter the natural order of things and I’m already on the shit list with the Pentagon. I’ll talk to her next week.”

  “Rob.” She squints. “You need to talk to Melanie.”

  “Pray tell why, Ms. Argento.”

  “Because she thinks it’s her fault you’re sober,” she says.

  “Her fault?”

  “Great job, by the way. I’m proud of you.”

  I nod. “Thank you very much.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “It wasn’t. Her fault?”

  Trix takes a much-needed breath. “Melanie thinks the only reason you got cleaned up is because she wasn’t a bad influence on your life anymore, which we both know is completely untrue. It’s not true, right?”

  “Of course it’s not true.”

  “So, you need to go to her and tell her that. Now. Before she spirals even further.”

  I pretend to think about it. “No,” I say.

  “Rob.”

  “Trix.”

  She scoffs. “Stop being an asshole and just go do it.”

  “I’ve got her right where I want her.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

  “The self-pity party is slightly ahead of schedule, but I can work with it.” I reach out and pinch a lock of her black hair, giving it a few quick tugs. “Nothing to worry your little head about.”

  “You know I can have you killed, right?” she asks, annoyed.

  I release her hair. “Trix, it’s fine. Melanie is fine. She will come to me when she’s ready.”

  “You don’t know that, Rob.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t. You weren’t there. Usually with you, she can just brush it off, but it’s different this time. I can feel it.”

  “All according to plan.”

  “Bullshit.” She shifts her stance. “You know, I don’t think you know any of us the way you think you do. I think you’re just making it all up as you go along.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yup!”

  “Kinda like how I knew she’d run right to you and Nora after she found out?” I say. “After I just happened to forget my most prized possession on the back of her chair? After my seven-month coin just happened to roll out of the pocket at that precise moment?”

  Trix’s jaw slowly drops. “You rigged it to fall out?”

  “And how I…” I exhale slowly, furrowing my brow with a pained expression, “I’m just not ready to talk to her about it yet…”

  “And then you, what, faked going to a meeting?” she asks in disgust.

  “Oh, no. The meeting was real. I met my sponsor for coffee and we went together.”

  “And what did they have to say about you lying about your sobriety to your ex-wife?”

  I straighten up. “It was the best way for her to find out,” I say. “If I had just told her, she never would have believed me. I had to make it seem like she stumbled on it by accident, forcing me to come out before I was ready.” I point at Trix as her face screws up. “Don’t do that thing with your nose. You know I’m right.”

  “Nope. I’m done.” Trix wrings her hands together as she beelines toward the door. “I wash my hands of this.”

  I snort. “No, you don’t.”

  “Oh, yes. I do.” She pauses by the door. “Omerta no more! I don’t want to be a part of whatever scheme you’re planning.”

  “Oh, but you see…” I steeple my fingers, “you already are.”

  She points at me. “Stop that.”

  “It’s true, Trix. You know that Mel and I belong together and you know that she’ll never get there on her own — which is also why I know that you won’t tell her a word about this!”

  She pauses with the door wide open. “Nuh-uh,” she says, unconvincingly.

  “Once we’re back together, I’ll come clean,” I say. “She’ll be annoyed at first, but she’ll understand that the ends justified the means. Happily ever after has that effect on people.”

  “Or she’ll be so pissed off that you lied to her — again — that she cuts you out of her life for good.”

  “Not gonna happen, Trix.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because she needs me. She might not know it yet, but by this time tomorrow, she will.”

  Trix pauses with suspicion. “What did you do?” she asks.

  I smirk.

  She furrows her brow. “What did you do, Robbie?”

  I bat my eyelashes, refusing to answer.

  Six

  Melanie

  After surviving brunch, I stumble home and take a long nap to soothe my aching head.

  While Sunday days are usually eventful, Sunday nights are typically a quiet time for me to rest and recharge. Sure, I’ll get invited to the occasional Argento family dinner or I’ll head into the suburbs to see my parents, but lately I’ve just wanted to spend this time alone in my own private space.

  Unfortunately, my private space smells like an old leather jacket right now.

  I squirm a little on the couch, twisting my body so I can easily bury my nose in the throw pillow. That jacket has always been like a second skin for Robbie since long before I even met him. It was the first thing he bought with his own money at fifteen during a trip to Kansas City. His family hated it. The nosey citizens of the small town he lived in despised it, but that just made him wear it more and more.

  I smile. As a girl from a wealthy family from the Chicago suburbs, Robbie’s origin story was always one of my favorite things about him, but the small-town boy in the leather jacket didn’t exactly have the rebellious flair it was meant to. My parents adored him. My friends couldn’t get enough of him.

  Meanwhile, I was drowning. I loved it at first. Who wouldn’t love to lose herself in a man who worshiped everything she did or said? A man who gave her everything she ever wanted… but n
othing she ever needed.

  I hug the pillow. I take a last breath of him before pushing the pillow off the couch onto the floor. It might be safer to kick it off onto the balcony later. Let it air out before I do something I’ll regret.

  My cellphone rings. I cringe as the sound burrows a hole deep in my brain. I curse as I reach beneath me to grab it from my pocket and end the repetitive screaming.

  I swipe on the speakerphone. “Hello?” I ask, holding it at arm’s distance.

  “Hey, honey! How are you?”

  I sigh. “Oh, hi, Mom.”

  “Uh-oh. Are you okay? You sound sick.”

  “Not sick, Mom, just… hit brunch a little hard today, that’s all,” I say.

  She laughs. “You girls and your brunch. I guess you should get all the time with them while you still can. You won’t be able to get brunch together so much after you leave for New York!”

  “Right,” I say. “Yeah.”

  “Anyway, I just wanted to call and confirm this weekend with you. You’re still coming to the holiday party this Saturday, right?”

  “I’ll be there,” I answer, happy with the quick change in subject.

  “And the girls? They’re coming, too, right?” She cackles. “It’ll just be your dad’s golfing buddies without a few young ladies like you.”

  “Yes, Nora and Trix are coming. Said so today. They wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Good! I need to get the final total to the caterer by tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, put us down for three. Or, five, I guess. They’ll bring dates.”

  “And how about you?” she hints. “Will you be bringing a date?”

  “No, Mom,” I answer flatly. “I won’t be bringing a date.”

  “I’ll just put you lot down for six, just in case—”

  “Mom, seriously.”

  “You never know, honey. One extra ain’t gonna kill the budget.”

  I sigh. “Okay.”

  “So, I’ll see you all this Saturday. Seven — sharp!”

  “Seven sharp,” I repeat.

  “Have a good night, honey.”

  “Goodnight, Mom.”

  I hang up and let the phone slip out of my hand onto the carpet. After a few minutes of heavy silence, I sit up on the couch and glance around the dark, empty apartment. It’s far too quiet, making it too easy for me to sink deep into the depths of my thoughts. I’d rather not do that right now. Somewhere around here is the remote to the television, but there’s nothing I feel like binging, either.