by R. R. Banks
“I knew it,” she laughs. “I knew it! You bitch! You knew I was into him!”
I shrug. “It wasn't supposed to happen like that.”
“Please,” she says. “I knew the minute you drove off with him that you were gonna be banging him within an hour. Not that I can blame you. He's gorgeous, Darby. And now he’s loaded. Even better.”
“So, you're not mad?”
Jade cocks her head and looks at me. “No, I'm not mad,” she says. “I had a crush on him, yeah, but he seemed to prefer you. I'm happy for you. Actually, I'm just happy you're finally getting laid. You needed it bad, babe.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She laughs as I take a sip of my drink, letting out a long breath. Relieved. I didn't realize just how heavy that secret was until Jade took it off my shoulders. Call me silly, but I firmly believe in loyalty. And banging a guy I knew my friend was into doesn’t exactly fit my standards.
“So? How is he, you know, in bed?” she asks. “Inquiring minds want to know. I think you owe me at least that much.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Oh God,” I say. “I'm not going to answer that.”
“Sure, you are,” she says, putting on a dramatic, anguished face. “It's the least you can do after stealing my man.”
I throw a napkin at her. “Shut up.”
“Come on, Darbs,” she says. “Give me a little thrill. You know all I get is boring married sex.”
“Your husband is gorgeous, Jade,” I say.
“He is. And he's great in bed, don't get me wrong,” she replies. “But, after so many years together, I can’t help but be curious. Which is why I need to live vicariously through you right now. So, spill. How is Mr. Bishop in bed?”
My cheeks are burning with a shade of red not found in nature. I have all of these conflicting emotions, swirling around just below the surface, and I'm having a hard time making sense of anything.
“He's amazing,” I finally say. “Honestly, the sex is mind-blowing.”
“That's my girl,” she beams. “I have to admit – I'm a little jealous. What I wouldn't give for a crack at that.”
“You're terrible,” I say. “And married with children.”
“One free pass?”
“Don't think your hubby would approve. Sorry.”
She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. Jade likes to talk like a scoundrel, but I know for a fact that she's so deeply in love with her husband, she'd never cheat on him. Never in a million years.
Back in the day, she was a bit of a wild child. I never thought she'd ever be content to settle down and stay with one man for the rest of her life. But, she surprised me by falling madly in love, and getting married. She’s as happy as I've ever seen her, and it does my heart good to see it.
“Is it getting serious between you two?” she asks.
I shrug. “I don't know,” I say. “Maybe?”
“Maybe?” she asks. “You don't sound so sure.”
“Well, it's not like we have the best track record,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
I drain the last of my drink and signal the waitress for another. I'm going to need a little more to get me through this. A few minutes later, she comes over and slides a fresh round in front of us, I wait until she leaves before I tell Jade the whole story. Every last bit of it. I catch her up on everything that happened ten years ago, and everything going on today – including everything Mason laid on me recently.
She listens to every word, alternating between aghast and amused. And when I'm finished, she takes a long swallow of her drink, and begins to laugh.
“What's so funny?” I ask.
“I'm going to have to go online and find that video,” she says. “That would be amazing to see. My little Darby, standing up to the big, bad man. How adorable.”
“Wasn't really that funny at the time.”
“Probably not,” she says. “But, I just want to see the look on his face. I bet Carter isn’t used to people giving him a verbal smackdown like that.”
“Probably not,” I admit. “Granted, he thought it was pretty funny too.”
She eyes me evenly over her drink and I can tell by the look on her face that she has something to say. Not that Jade doesn't always have something to say, but the look she has on her face tells me she's about to impart some of her patented three-drink wisdom.
“Tell me something,” she says. “Do you actually think Carter is capable of murdering somebody?”
I don't reply, instead looking down at my drink, as if searching for answers in the bottom of the glass. The truth is, I don't have an answer for that question. My heart screams no. The man I know is gentle and kind. Compassionate and caring. My brain then interjects with flashbacks of him punching that kid back at St. Aggie’s. Yeah, there’s a long way to go from assault to murder, but I know he has the capability for violence. And that kind of scares me.
“Obviously, I don't know Carter all that well,” Jade says. “I imagine he can be arrogant and condescending. I imagine he can be one of those take charge, alpha male types. Am I right?”
Though he's never been that way with me, I have seen hints of that personality manifest within him, so I nod.
“Asshole, maybe,” she says. “Killer, definitely not. I never got that vibe off him.”
“Yeah, well, you knew him for all of what, half an hour?”
She nods. “Yeah, and I never got that vibe,” she responds. “But more than that, you were with him for longer and you never did either.”
“Maybe I blinded myself to it because I was falling for him.”
“Listen to me, Darby,” she says. “Despite what your brother says, you are not naïve. You are not some idiot with a schoolgirl crush. You have an instinctive feel for people. Always have. You have an uncanny ability to see whether they're good or bad. When we were growing up and partying with older guys, how many times did you stop me from leaving with somebody because you got a bad feeling about them?”
“Not that you listened to me every time,” I say, a rueful smile on my lips.
“No, I didn't. And I found myself in bad situations more than once because I didn't listen to you,” she says. “Because you were right, more often than not. So, don't let fucking Mason convince you that you're acting like some stupid teenage girl. You're not.”
I pick at the cocktail napkin on the table in front of me, processing everything she's saying, not sure what to make of it all.
“You've let Mason live in your head, rent free, for years, Darbs. For as long as I've known you,” she says. “For years and years, honey, you've let him make you think you're something you're not – a silly, stupid, naïve girl. You're one of the most intelligent, intuitive, and strongest people I know.”
“He says his office has been investigating Carter for a long time though,” I say. “Says he has him linked to a number of crimes already.”
“And Mason has never lied to you to manipulate you into doing something he wants, has he?” she asks, arching an eyebrow at me. “Look, I don't know if Carter is guilty of anything or not. Chances are, he hasn’t been a perfect angel all his life. None of us has, Darbs. But, is he guilty of what Mason is suggesting? I don't know that I'd trust Mason's word alone. If I were you, I'd listen to my gut a lot more than a man with an obvious agenda. If I were in your shoes, I'd do some digging, and find some facts on my own. Only then can you put an end to all those questions and doubts in your head.”
“I'm just so afraid of letting myself get too attached again, and then having it turn out that Carter really is the monster Mason is making him out to be,” I say. “I don't know if I would survive another heartbreak like that. I mean, I know Carter has a past. He obviously has secrets.”
“Don't we all?” she asks. “Listen, Mason is all about Mason. You know that as well as I do. He's using you as a stepping stone to achieve his own goals. He always has. He doesn't really give a damn about anything other than how something impacts him and hi
s ability to control the people around him. Why do you think he and I hated each other so much growing up? I saw right through that shit and called him on it. And you know more than anything, Mason doesn't like being called on his bullshit.”
That much was true. Jade and Mason hated each other with a passion when we were kids. And that feeling didn't diminish as we got older. If anything, they both seemed even more entrenched in their positions on each other than before. It's so bad that Mason always pretends to not know her, or remember that she's my friend. Because he's mature and totally not petty or anything.
Even still, despite her loathing of my brother, that doesn't make what she's saying any less valid.
“You know the quickest way to clear this all up?” she asks. “Talk to Carter. Ask him about it point blank. Listen to your intuition. If something seems off or you get any sort of weird intuition when he speaks, you'll have your answer.”
“And what if my heart gets in the way and clouds my perceptions?”
“It won't,” she says. “You're a hell of a lot smarter than that. You really don't give yourself enough credit. You're not going to do something stupid and put yourself in a bad position. I know that much about you. Maybe, you should just go and talk to this Pops Ramazzo himself.”
I reach across the table and take her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. I feel so blessed to have Jade by my side. She's my rock. She's the first person I run to, and she's always there to hold me tight when I need it. She's also the first to tell me when I'm being an idiot.
“You seem really invested in me being with Carter,” I say and laugh.
“Honestly, it's because for the first time in, I don't even know how long, that you're actually happy,” she says. “It's hard to explain, but you just have this glow about you I haven't seen in – oh, about ten years. Plus, the fact that my girl is having toe-curling sex with one of the hottest men in New York makes me deliriously happy, and insanely jealous all at the same time. But, more than anything, I'm happy for you, Darbs. That glowing smile on your face, is really, really nice to see.”
I laugh. “Shut up,” I say.
“It's true,” she replies. “I think Carter is good for you, Darbs. I think he was right about you two being given a second chance for a reason. Don't screw it up by overthinking it. Listen to your gut. Trust yourself.”
“Thank you, Jade.”
“You owe me,” she says. “I want details about this toe-curling sex. Video if you have it.”
I slap her hand and laugh. “You’re so bad. I love you.”
“And I love you, Darbs,” she says. “I just want you to be happy.”
“That makes two of us.”
I take a sip and look around the bar. With Christmas closing in, the atmosphere is decidedly more festive than usual. The people here seem to really love Christmas. The bar is decorated to the nth degree, with tinsel, streamers, and garland everywhere. I love Christmas, but even I think this is over the top.
But, if it makes them happy, so be it. I just hope I can hold on to my own happiness.
17
Carter
“So? How'd the meeting go?” I ask.
“About how we expected,” Rupert says and gives me a smile.
“So, the hook is baited.”
“Indeed, it is.”
We walk across the lobby on the ground floor of the office building and step into the coffee house located there. Despite the fact that it's after two, the place is packed. Most of us in the industry tend to run on caffeine and adrenaline, so it's not at all surprising. We get into line and Rupert waves to a girl behind the counter. A pretty blonde thing, wearing one of the most hideous holiday sweaters I've ever seen, a Santa hat, and what look like bulb ornaments as earrings. I groan and shake my head.
“What?” he asks. “Not everybody has to be a Scrooge this time of year. I happen to enjoy the holiday flair.”
“What's with the sweater?”
He shrugs. “Ugly sweaters are a thing, apparently.”
“You have one, don't you?”
Rupert gives me a sly smile. “We're going to an ugly sweater party,” he says. “I can't be the only one without one.”
I shake my head. What a nerd.
He laughs. “Isn't she adorable though?”
“She looks young. Aren’t you a little old for her?”
“Asshole,” Rupert replies, laughing. “She's a senior in college.”
“And I’m thirty-two.”
“Worrying about age is so last century,” he teases. “Get with the times, my brother.”
“Yea?” I ask. “You were ten years old when that girl was in diapers.”
“Our love knows no arbitrary bounds like age,” he says.
“How poetic.”
“And besides, it's not like you have room to talk,” he says. “Isn't Darby –”
“Four years,” I say. “Totally doesn't compare.”
He shrugs and grins at me. “Yeah, it kinda does.”
“Not even close. Not even in the same ballpark.”
We get to the counter and I place our order, paying for Rupert's and leaving the girl a healthy tip. A few minutes later, my name is called, and I grab our drinks. Rupert manages to peel himself away from his girl and we walk back out into the lobby. He raises his cup to me.
“Grazie,” he says.
I nod. “So, when are you supposed to make the exchange?”
“I told him I'd call him,” he says. “Wanted to coordinate it with you. We need to make sure we have clean visuals and audio. The last thing we want to do is leave anything ambiguous or open to interpretation.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Let me call my guy.”
He nods. “Coming up?”
I shake my head. “Nah,” I reply. “I'm taking Darby to a new exhibit down at the Bog.”
“Well, have a good time then.”
Hold down the fort for me,” I reply. “And I'll let you know what I find out about closing the deal.”
“Sounds good.”
* * *
“The work is exquisite,” she says.
The Bog – the Bogosian Museum – is a small museum located in Chelsea. It's not as well known or prestigious as the Guggenheim, but it has a collection of work that comes close to rivaling it. It also houses paintings from one of my favorite painters.
“I had no idea you were such a big fan of Caravaggio.”
I nod. “I've always loved his work. At least, I did once you turned me on to art, and I discovered him,” I say. “It's some of the most beautiful stuff I've ever seen. Well, excluding yours, of course.”
I squeeze her tight and kiss her neck as she giggles. I can't put into words what it is, but something seems off. Darby’s more than a little distracted tonight. It's like something's weighing on her mind. She hasn't said anything explicitly, but I can tell.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Everything's great.”
She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so I'm not going to push it. Better to let her handle this however she wants to. In her own time.
We stroll around the museum for a while, looking at the amazing collection of works they've assembled. I've been to this museum many times – I'm a large donor to it, actually – and I always find something new, every time. Something unexpected. Something I didn't see before. It's one of my favorite places to hang out and look at art.
“Carter Bishop, lovely to see you again.”
“It’s great to see you too, Midge,” I say.
Midge Waters, the museum's chief curator, walks over to us and gives me a hug. I've known Midge for a few years now and have nothing but the utmost respect for her. She's a wonderful person and has done an amazing job of making the Bog one of the best museums in New York.
“Midge, this is Da –”
“Darby White,” she says, beaming. “Let me be the first to say, I absolutely adore your work.”
Darby blushes, b
ut her smile is wide. “Thank you,” she says. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
“I actually have a piece of yours at my home,” Midge says. “It's your rendition of The Scream. I thought your execution was utterly brilliant.”
Darby beams. “Thank you so much.”
“I would love to have you come and give a talk on modern art sometime, if you're interested?” Midge asks.
“I'd love that,” Darby replies.
“Excellent. I'll have somebody at the office contact you to set it up.”
I turn to Midge and smile. “Anything new and exciting not on the floor yet?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” she says slyly.
“Any chance of getting a sneak peek?”
“Only for you, Carter,” she teases.
I give her a wide smile. “You are too good to me, Midge.”
“Damn right I am,” she says and laughs. “You have your keycard?”
I nod. “Just so happens I do.”
“Well then, take your time and enjoy it.”
“Thanks, Midge,” I say. “You're scoring me a lot of points with Darby here.”
“Yeah, well, remember that when donation time rolls around again.”
“You know I will.”
Midge laughs as she walks on and Darby looks at me, arching her eyebrow.
“You have access to the lower levels of the Bog?”
“I do indeed.”
She sighs. “Must be nice.”
“Not gonna lie, it has its privileges,” I laugh. “Seems like you've got a fan club. That's pretty cool, Darby. Your work is hanging in her home.”
Darby smiles, but looks a little embarrassed. “It's always nice to be recognized,” she says softly. “That painting is one of my favorites. It makes me really happy to know that she enjoys it as much as I do.”
“Well, get used to it,” I say. “I have a feeling you’re a rising star in the art world.”
“I wish.”
“Watch and see,” I say. “So, shall we head down there?”
“After you.”
