Chapter 41
Three hours later, Joel still hadn't returned. I felt my teeth grinding as I recalled what he'd said just before getting into his brother's car, leaving his own car parked in my driveway.
"I'll be back in a few."
For the hundredth time, I parted the front curtains and looked out over the darkened driveway. A few what? Years?
At this point, I didn't know whether to be worried or angry. Already, I'd called him twice. But he hadn't answered, and I hated the thought of calling him again.
After all, I wasn't his girlfriend or anything, and obviously, there was more to this situation than I knew. But why hadn't he called? Or at least sent me text? Was it that hard, to say, "Sorry, I'm running late."
For the tenth time, I pulled out my cell phone and stared down at the screen. Ring, damn it.
Suddenly, it did.
Startled, I dropped the stupid thing and winced as it hit the hardwood floor. I dove down and swooped it up, only to feel my shoulders sag. The phone was fine, but the caller wasn't Joel. It was Cassie.
Normally, I'd be happy to hear from her. But not tonight.
I answered with a distracted, "Hello?"
She hesitated. "Did I wake you? Oh, crap. I did, didn't I?"
"No. Not at all." But I was surprised to hear from her so late. I glanced at the nearby clock. It was past midnight. "Is something wrong?"
"Actually, yeah." She sighed. "Sorry to call so late, but there's a problem at the shop."
"What kind of problem?"
"You're not going to believe this, but a water pipe exploded in the back room."
"Exploded? Seriously?"
"No. Not literally." She gave a weak laugh. "Although you'd never know it from the looks of things."
"Oh no. That bad?"
"You don't know the half of it. I'll have to close for at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer."
The worry in her voice hurt to hear. "Oh, Cassie, I am so sorry. Do you need any help?"
"No. But thanks. Actually, I was calling for another reason. You're scheduled to work tomorrow, but I just don't see the point." With a note of false cheer, she added, "So congratulations, you've got the day off."
This wasn't good news, and not only because I was worried for Cassie. I didn't make a lot of money at the cookie shop, but it did help with expenses. So much for grocery money.
Damn it.
But even as the thought crossed my mind, I mentally kicked myself. The way it sounded, Cassie's business had taken a huge hit, and what was I doing? Worrying about a lost paycheck.
Mortified by my own selfishness, I said, "Are you sure I can't help? Not as an employee. But as a friend? I mean, you wouldn’t have to pay me if that's the issue."
"It's not." She paused. "Well, actually it is. I mean, it's not like we're going to be selling any cookies. But the truth is, I've got to wait on the insurance adjustor before I do a single thing."
Hoping to cheer her up, I said, "At least you have insurance. So that's good, right?"
"I guess," she said, "but the deductible's a killer. A thousand bucks. I'll probably have to sell a kidney or something."
I almost didn't know what to say. Poor Cassie. "Are you sure I can't help?"
"I'm sure," she said. "But I am wondering something."
"What's that?"
"What happened with you and Joel? Are you guys on the outs or something?"
I tensed. "What makes you say that?"
"Because I just saw him at T.J.'s, and he wasn't with you."
T.J.'s? The bar? So that's where he was?
My fingers flexed around the phone. Trying not to sound as irritated as I felt, I said, "So, who was he with? A couple of guys who looked like they could be related?"
"Well, he was with two people. And now that you mention it, they did look like they could be related to each other, except…" She hesitated. "They weren't guys."
Chapter 42
It was already past two o'clock in the morning when I finally heard a car pull into the driveway. From my spot on the sofa, I opened my eyes just in time to see headlights bouncing off the far wall of the darkened front room.
After getting off the phone with Cassie, I'd opened the front curtains, but turned off all the lights. And then, I'd slouched onto the sofa and mentally rehearsed all of the rude things I was planning to say when that ass-hat showed his face.
Or who knows? Maybe he wouldn't show his face. Maybe he'd just slink over to his car and drive off without so much as a hello, or a goodbye for that matter.
My shoulders tightened. If so, that was fine by me.
It would save me the trouble of telling him where he could shove whatever excuse he was planning to give me, assuming that he'd even bother.
Outside, I heard a car door slam, followed by the muffled sounds of male voices, and then, even more slamming, like the idiots were getting in and out of the car – or cars, as in plural.
I didn't know. And I didn't care.
In what should've been good news, I didn't hear any female voices, which meant that the people in the driveway were probably Joel's brothers. Who knows, maybe they were his cover story. Maybe that was the reason for all the talking and slamming.
I rolled my eyes. Who was I kidding? Like he'd even go to that much trouble. Probably, they were just drunk off their asses.
It was, after all, past closing time on a Friday night. Probably, I should've gone out, too – drinking, dancing, or whatever. But where had I spent my evening? Home. Sitting here like a Cocker Spaniel, waiting for the lord of the manor to return.
Next, I'd be slobbering at his feet and fetching his slippers.
Pathetic.
Soon, I heard a car – or maybe more than one – drive off, leaving the night quiet once again.
Unable to resist, I stood and squinted toward the front window. From the shadows, I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I felt nothing, except a dull, depressing ache that made me feel like a giant loser.
For some reason, the night suddenly seemed ten times lonelier. How twisted was that? Reluctantly, I edged closer to the window and sighed as my most humiliating suspicion was confirmed.
Joel's car was gone.
I felt my jaw clench. Fine.
I didn't want to tell him off, anyway. He wasn't worth it.
Beyond disgusted, I trudged up the stairs, flicked on the lights in my bedroom, and made my way into my private bathroom. Looking to wash away my sorry mood, I started running a bath, only to pause in the middle of undressing when a new sound rang through the house, literally.
It was the doorbell.
What on Earth?
I was half naked – the bottom half.
When the doorbell rang again, I turned toward the sound. All things considered, I'd have to be a total idiot to answer anything now.
But as it turned out, I was a total idiot, because I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I turned off the water, tugged on my shorts, and shoved my feet back into my sneakers. And then, I stalked toward the stairway with one goal in mind – to make him feel just as stupid as I did.
While stomping down the stairs, I recalled the details of what Cassie had told me earlier. She'd popped into T.J.'s for just a moment, in search of her landlord. While there, she'd seen Joel enter the bar with a blonde and a brunette who looked like they could be sisters. He'd had one on each arm, and they'd been smiling.
At the image, I found myself stomping just a little bit harder.
Great.
A sister act.
How nice.
From what Cassie had said, Joel's companions were, as she'd put it, quite attractive.
How lovely for them. If they wanted him, they could have him. It's not like I wanted him or anything.
Well, not anymore, at least.
When I reached the front door, I left it locked and called out, "Who is it?"
Sure enough, I heard Joel's voice, calling back, "It's me." He paused. "Joel."
A cold smile
settled over my features. "Joel who?"
"You know who."
Yes, I did. It was Joel the Cocky Bastard who thought he could ditch me for a couple of hoochies and then show up here afterwards for sloppy seconds. I frowned. Or would it be thirds?
I shuddered at the thought.
What did he think? That just because he'd mowed my lawn that I'd forgive whatever slick trick he was pulling now. Not likely.
I leaned closer to the intercom. "Joel?" I paused as if thinking. "Huh. Sorry. Not ringing a bell."
In spite of my obvious sarcasm, his voice remained calm. "Will you open the door?" He paused. "Please?"
His calmness grated on me. What was I supposed to do? Open the door wide and give him a big, happy smile. "Sure, come on in. You're so hot, I'd put up with anything."
Suddenly tired of the drama, I gave up the pretense and said, "It's late."
"I know," he said. "But I wanna explain. Now c'mon. Open up. Alright?"
With a sigh, I disengaged the alarm, twisted the deadbolt, and opened the door. And there he was, looking just as good as the last time I'd seen him. That was how long ago? Five, maybe six, hours?
I stared up at him. To my surprise, he actually looked sober.
But so what? Maybe his drug of choice wasn't alcohol, but a couple of sisters in a back booth.
I crossed my arms and waited, wondering what on Earth he'd say now.
He glanced down at my clothes. "Were you sleeping?"
"No."
His mouth twitched at the corners. "Your shorts are on backwards."
I looked down and stifled a groan. Oh, crap. He was right. I should've noticed. Now that I was paying attention, they did feel kind of funny. So much for making him feel stupid.
Still, I lifted my chin and said, "Is that why you stopped by? To critique my clothing?"
"No." He glanced past me, toward the interior of the house. With a look that was almost apologetic, he said, "I forgot my phone."
Chapter 43
From the open doorway, I was still staring. "You forgot your phone? So that's why you rang the bell?"
I felt my eyes narrow. Oh, he could have his phone, alright. In fact, I could even tell him where to shove it – and it was nowhere near his ear.
In front of me, Joel gave a low curse. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Oh yeah? How did you mean it?"
"I wanted to call," he said. "That's what I meant." His expression softened. "Screw the phone. I don't need it."
He looked so sincere that I almost didn't know what to think. I had to remind myself that he hadn't been out saving orphans from burning buildings. He'd been out carousing with not just one, but two other girls.
Should I fling that fact in his face? Or wait to hear what he'd say?
I was still pondering that when Joel said, "I brought you something."
Confused, I glanced down. His hands were empty. Unless he meant the something in his pants, I couldn’t imagine what he meant.
I gave him a stiff smile. "Oh yeah? What?"
He flicked his head toward the side of the house. "C'mon. I'll show you."
Reluctantly, I poked my head out of the doorway and looked to where he indicated. I didn't see anything, not even his car.
Until this very moment, I'd assumed that he'd driven off a few minutes earlier, and then returned for whatever reason. But now, I didn't know what to think. I asked, "Where's your car?"
"I moved it."
How nice for him. Apparently, he figured he'd be staying a while.
My jaw tightened. "Oh, really? Why?"
He studied my face. "Well, obviously, not for the reason you think."
"How would you know what I'm thinking?"
"Not hard to figure out." He glanced toward the side of the house. "Look, we had to move some stuff. That's all. And Bishop didn't want an audience."
An audience? Meaning me? At my house?
I so didn't need this. I gave Joel an annoyed look. "Listen, I don't want to be rude, but whatever you brought, I don't want it."
He gave me a smile that was almost cocky. "How do you know if you won't look?"
He could smile all he wanted. I wasn't buying it. What did he think? That he could just waltz up with a smile and some kind of present, and everything would be okay?
It wasn't okay.
And I was tired of the game-playing. I heard myself sigh. "You know what? I know exactly what you were doing, and I don't appreciate it."
He looked at me for a long moment, as if trying to decide how much I really knew. In a carefully neutral voice, he said, "What do you mean?"
Something in his eyes – a flicker of surprise with a twinge of wariness – told me that he knew exactly what I meant.
My heart sank as my worst suspicions were confirmed. "You know what I mean. But if you want to play dumb, that's fine by me." I felt myself swallow. "Just do it somewhere else, okay?"
He studied my face. "Who told you?"
Well, that was special. "None of your business. That's who."
"Who?" he repeated.
"It's a small town. Word travels fast, alright?"
He made a low scoffing sound. "Right."
I gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, it's the middle of the night. What did you think? That I'd fling open the door and invite you inside?"
"No." In a tight voice, he added, "but I didn't expect this."
No doubt, this was true. The guy was so good-looking that girls probably flung themselves at him regardless of how late it was or what he'd been doing.
I gave him my snottiest smile. "I just bet." In spite of my smile, I wanted to cry. "Now, will you please just leave?"
"If that's what you want." He turned away and began stalking toward the side of the house.
Stupidly, I waited in the open doorway, frozen by a mixture of despair and morbid curiosity. Soon, I heard the rev of an engine, followed by the sight of his car roaring down the long driveway and disappearing from view.
I took a deep, ragged breath. Well, that solved the curiosity thing.
And now, there was only despair.
I shut the door, trudged back upstairs, and finished filling the tub. I climbed in, only to discover that the water had cooled while I'd been downstairs talking to Joel. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't exactly hot either.
Given my finances, running a new bath was a luxury I couldn’t justify. So I sat in the lukewarm water for less than a minute before climbing out, toweling off, and getting dressed for bed.
Somehow, I'd hoped that telling him off would give me some satisfaction. But it hadn't. The bed was cold, and my life felt empty.
I stared into the darkness, half-wishing that I'd ignored what Cassie had told me and let Joel in, anyway. Maybe the girls were friends. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe I'd overreacted.
Or more likely, I was just being pathetic.
It was just past dawn when my cell phone rang. With a groan, I reached for it and checked the display. It was Derek.
I hadn't slept, or at least not enough to matter. I was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but then figured I might as well get this over with. After all, my mood couldn’t get any worse – or so I thought until Derek started talking.
Chapter 44
"Listen," Derek said, "I don’t know what in the hell you were thinking, but I don't appreciate it."
I rubbed at my eyes. "Huh?"
"Yeah. Nice trick you pulled. Who was the guy?"
The more he talked, the less I understood. "What guy?"
"The tough guy you hired to do your dirty work."
Tough guy?
Dirty work?
I sat up in bed. "Derek, seriously, what are you talking about?"
"As if you don't know."
"I don't," I insisted. "So either tell me, or let me get back to sleep."
"Hey, don't get pissy with me," he said. "I'm the one who's gotta smooth this over. And just so you know, Biff wasn't happy."
My mind was too mud
dled to think. "Biff who?"
He gave a derisive snort. "Very funny." And with that, he ended the call.
I flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Well, that wasn't weird or anything.
Derek was definitely losing it. Or who knows, maybe I was. Giving up on any hope of sleep, I climbed out of bed and got dressed. I'd been scheduled to work at the cookie shop, but now, thanks to that broken pipe, I wasn't.
But I still had plenty to keep me busy. In just a few short weeks, we'd be having the final meeting to select the recipients for this year's art- endowment.
I had paperwork to review, letters to write, and tours to arrange. I also had to finish the cleaning, and not only to avoid grief from Derek and his dad.
If I didn't get scrubbing, the place wouldn't be in any kind of shape for visitors, even if they were just traipsing through to eyeball my parent's stuff.
Normally, this was an exciting time. But today, I wasn't excited about anything.
It was because of Joel. I missed him. And I hated him.
But most of all, I hated myself. I should've known he was too good to be true.
Stupid me.
I decided to start with the cleaning, mostly because my mind was too foggy to tackle anything else. I was just lugging the vacuum cleaner out of the broom closet room when my cell phone rang with a call from Cassie.
As soon as I answered, she burst out, "Hey, I heard what happened with Biff. What was that about? And who was the guy?"
I almost staggered under the avalanche of questions. "What guy?" I set down the vacuum cleaner. "And who's Biff?"
"Oh come on," she said. "This is me you're talking to. Just tell me. I'm dying to know."
My mind was churning. "Yeah. Me, too."
She gave a small laugh. "Good one."
"I'm not joking."
She paused. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. I'm dead serious. And you're the second person to call today." I felt like I was in the twilight zone or something. "I don't even know a Biff."
"Sure you do," she said. "Big guy, red hair, owns the garage off Maple."
"Sorry, I have no idea who you mean."
"Oh, come on. He's the guy with the snowplow. Wears a lot of flannel."
Something Tattered (Joel Bishop Book 1) Page 16
