Path of the Wicked

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Path of the Wicked Page 7

by Jennifer Stanley


  “Do your vitamins work fast?” Cooper asked as their shrimp cocktails were served.

  “Hey, I’m my own client!” Tobey laughed and then held out an arm, unbuttoned his sleeve, and pushed the purple fabric toward his shoulder as far as it would go. He then performed a bicep curl. Cooper watched in repulsed fascination as branches of blue veins popped into relief against the bulge of his muscle.

  “Whoa!” Nathan breathed, clearly impressed. “Didn’t you have to lift weights in order to get that kind of result?”

  Tobey shrugged. “Some, but not as much as I’d have to without my Big Man pills. Can you believe I used to weigh one-twenty-eight and was as weak as a little girl?” He bit a piece of shrimp in half and chewed with gusto. When his mouth was empty, he continued. “I want guys who look like total wimps, like I used to, to be able to hold their heads up high. They just need to know how to get their hands on my stuff and I can fix their bodies up. With a whole new attitude, their lives could change forever!”

  Their appetizer dishes were cleared away and Cooper occupied herself by slicing bread for her tablemates. Tobey ate his with the same speed with which he had devoured his shrimp. All his motions seemed hurried and his words spilled out of his mouth as though the barrier of his teeth couldn’t hold them back.

  “I didn’t realize that natural herbs and vitamins could really change someone’s muscular makeup,” Nathan commented as their salads were served. “Are they safe?”

  “Yes, absolutely! I wouldn’t have used them myself if they weren’t. I’d like to offer my clients safe, effective products that won’t break the bank. There are too many fake health-care products in L.A. That’s why I relocated. This is a fresh market. It’s not overloaded with merchandise that glitters like gold but won’t do a thing to change how you look! “ Tobey exclaimed as he used his fork to skewer a stack of lettuce pieces, which he then shoved into the inside of his cheek until it bulged like a chip-munk’s. “Ummm. This is so good.”

  Nathan concentrated on sprinkling black pepper onto his Caesar salad. “And do you make your own products or does someone manufacture them for you?”

  “I make them. Well, me and my girl, Sheila.” He crunched energetically on a crouton. “We purchase the raw materials, of course, but we grind the herbs and fill the capsules in a lab so clean you could serve Thanksgiving dinner on the floor. I do get the labels printed by a professional, because, as I’m sure you both know, packaging is really important. What I don’t have,” he said, pushing more lettuce onto his fork with the aid of his thumb, “is a killer Internet site where men can buy Big Man.”

  Cooper watched Nathan as he finished his salad. He seemed to be contemplating Tobey’s request. “What kind of features are you looking for?”

  The waitress appeared and silently removed their salad plates.

  “I want it all!” Tobey paused a moment to pick something out of his teeth. “Shopping cart, promotional videos, banner ads on some of the top search-engine sites, pages on MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube. Everything!”

  The waitress returned and held a white porcelain platter just out of Tobey’s reach. He eyed the mammoth bone-in rib-eye with eagerness and reached for the plate.

  “It’s hot,” the waitress cautioned and slid Tobey’s entrée in front of him. She withdrew her hand quickly, as though fearing he might saw through her wrist if left within reach of his steak knife. Tobey at least had the good grace to thank her before cutting into his meat.

  “The only thing I don’t want on the site,” Tobey continued, “is a way for people to pay with credit cards.”

  Nathan looked at him in surprise. “Really? That’s kind of standard with business websites. Lots of folks pay with credit cards. It’s convenient.”

  “No plastic,” Tobey insisted. “I’ll take PayPal or whatever program you’ve got that will put money straight into my bank account, but that’s it. For a small-business guy like me, those credit card company fees are too steep. They really bite into my profits.”

  Nodding, Nathan turned his attention to Cooper. “How’s the Béarnaise?”

  “It’s really good. I can’t believe I’ve never had it before,” she said. “My daddy would love it.”

  “Your daddy?” Tobey mocked her good-naturedly. “That is so Southern.” He dropped his cutlery on his plate and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Awesome steak. So, Nathan Dexter,” Tobey picked up his water glass and drank greedily. “I thought this whole interview thing was kind of weird. Most people dream of getting a client like me who wants the works and has the money to pay for it, but I guess when you’re the best, you can do things your way.” He looked at Nathan as he signaled for the waitress. “And I could tell right off, by checking out your other sites, that you’re the best.”

  Nathan’s cheeks grew warm at the compliment, but he said nothing. Tobey didn’t seem to notice. He kept right on talking.

  “I don’t do dessert as a rule, but why don’t we have some Irish coffee? I can see you need a few more minutes to make your decision.” Tobey signaled to their waitress.

  “Just decaf for me,” Nathan said as she appeared with the dessert menus. Cooper followed suit, too satiated to consider ordering key lime pie or chocolate crème brulee.

  “An Irish coffee for me.” Tobey smiled at the waitress and then added, “And bring me the check, okay? I’m doing my damnedest to impress this man.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Seriously, Nathan. My product gives stringy, wimpy guys some confidence. Sometimes it helps them land a better job. Sometimes it gets them the girl. Sometimes they can finally stand up to the loser who’s been bullying them for years. It’s good stuff, I’m promising you that. Nothing slimy. Nothing illegal. Just a confidence boost. Everyone can use one of those once in a while, am I right?” He stood. “I’ll go powder my nose and when I get back, I hope you’ll tell me that we can work together.”

  After he left the table, Nathan looked at Cooper. “What do you think?”

  “I guess I’m convinced. Like Tobey said, there are lots of people out there who could use a fresh dose of confidence. If the product is safe and effective, maybe it could help some of its users improve their lot in life.”

  Nathan nodded. “That’s what I think, too. It’s just that Tobey can be a little pushy, so I wanted to make sure I was going into this venture on my own terms, and I’m really glad I had you here to help me come to a decision.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, just as the waitress placed their beverages on the table.

  Cooper and Nathan were stirring cream into their coffees when Tobey returned from the restroom. Nathan held his hand out to Tobey. “I’ll build you your Big Man site, Mr. Dodge.”

  “Awesome!” Tobey laughed and then slapped Nathan vigorously on the back just as Nathan picked up his coffee cup. The liquid sloshed over the white cup and spilled onto his yellow tie.

  Cooper stared at the stain spreading out on the silk. It called to mind the image of the dark thundercloud from her dream. She shivered and then cupped her hands around her coffee cup in search of warmth.

  5

  Those who walk uprightly

  enter into peace;

  they find rest as they lie in death.

  Isaiah 57:2 (NIV)

  Cooper felt as though she were floating into work on Monday. She kept rewinding the scene at Hondo’s bar when Nathan had told her that he wanted to make more of an effort to see her. Though he hadn’t exactly said as much, she assumed he wanted her to be his girlfriend, his significant other, the woman he thought about when he was alone. Cooper figured he wanted to test the waters together as a couple and, perhaps, even wondered whether she could possibly be the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. After all, they were both well above the average age at which most people married, and Cooper knew that his thirty-ninth birthday was only a month away. It made sense that Nathan finally wanted to get serious.

  “You’re grinnin’ like a child on Christmas mornin�
��,” Angela said as Cooper walked into Make It Work! “I’m wearin’ an equally smug smile as well, in case you didn’t notice. I suspect we’ve both got our minds on a fine man.” She gestured at her desk. “See anythin’ unusual?”

  Cooper examined Angela’s tight, canary-yellow sweater, her bulbous white necklace made of plastic beads, her bouffant platinum-blonde hair, and her customary cardinal-red lipstick.

  “Don’t look at me, sug!” Angela redirected her. “Look on my desk!”

  “Ah-ha. You’ve got two vases of roses today.” Cooper smelled a cluster of beautiful amber roses. The dignified flowers had yet to unfold their clenched petals and the scent was barely detectable. She then inhaled deeply from a vase of delicate peach roses, which had enormous petals and a heady fragrance.

  “I picked out the yellow ones from Costco,” Angela explained. “To go with my sweater, of course. There wasn’t any note with these other ones, but I think Emilio put them on my desk.” She said his name reverently.

  “Emilio?” Cooper was doubtful. “Why not Mr. Farmer?”

  Angela shrugged and removed an emery board from her desk drawer. “Except for my birthday, he’s never gotten me flowers. Why would he start now?”

  “He’s probably seen how you look at Emilio. Maybe he’s jealous,” Cooper answered, firmly believing that their boss returned Angela’s affections but was too reserved to show her how he felt.

  While considering this possibility, Angela filed the edge of her pointy right thumbnail. “I dunno. I’ve dropped Mr. Farmer plenty of hints that I’d like to be a whole lot more than his secretary. Maybe it’s time to set my sights elsewhere.”

  Cooper couldn’t understand why she resisted the idea of Angela pursuing Emilio, but she had a strong feeling that the younger man wasn’t a good match for the cheery, optimistic Angela, and Cooper didn’t want to see her friend get hurt.

  “Just follow where your heart leads you,” Cooper advised as she stroked the velvety petals of one of the peach roses. “And remember, Mr. Farmer is quite shy. He probably needs a lot of persuading to pry him all the way out of his shell. Besides, on top of all the regular complications between men and women, Mr. Farmer’s your boss. It makes things even more challenging, but don’t give up on him.”

  At that moment, Emilio sauntered in from the parking lot, smelling strongly of musky cologne and gasoline. Angela wriggled in her chair. “ ’Mornin’, handsome.”

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Emilio replied and winked at her. He then leaned on her desk and crossed one foot over another, as though he planned on settling in for a nice, leisurely chat. “So, what did everybody do this weekend? Go clubbing? Shake your stuff on the dance floor? Get a little wild?” He raised his eyebrows and threw Cooper a searching look.

  “Cooper volunteered at Door-2-Door Dinners packing food,” Angela stated with pride over her friend’s charitable spirit. “I was much more selfish. I shopped, went to the doggie bakery with Betty Boop, and had a glorious brunch at the Jefferson Hotel with some friends.”

  “Who’s Betty Boop?” Emilio inquired, turning his attention back to Angela.

  “Oh, you really are a young thang.” Angela giggled coquettishly. “Betty Boop is my Yorkshire terrier. She’s named after the famous cartoon character from the 1930s. She’s funny, sexy, and has giant eyes, jet-black hair, and a body with hourglass curves. Kinda like mine.”

  Emilio blinked. “So how is your dog like a cartoon lady?”

  “My Betty is very sassy, just like the other Betty. Plus, I dress her up in little doggie outfits so she looks just as glamorous!” Angela declared. “Folks are always stopping me and askin’ for my Betty to give them her paw or one of her sweet, little doggie kisses.”

  “You dress her up and you take her to bakeries? Like Paris Hilton does?” Emilio questioned.

  Angela frowned at him for the first time. It was clear she didn’t find the comparison to the hotel heiress complimentary. “Betty Boop gets a Drooly Dream Bar from Three Dog Bakery every Saturday, rain or shine.” Angela glanced up at Emilio from beneath a curtain of false eyelashes. “Doesn’t everybody deserve treats? Like my beautiful peach roses here.” Her stare was intense enough to penetrate through steel.

  Emilio considered this. “Sure they do, but my idea of a treat is watching a football game while drinking a coupla cold Heinekens. Then, after the game, having a giant bacon and onion burger and, if I’m lucky, finding a Stallone or Chuck Norris movie on high-def. Kick off the shoes, stretch out on my leather sofa, and polish off the rest of the beer while the good guys mow down the bad guys with AK-47s!” he shouted exuberantly. “Of course, it’s more fun to do any of these things with some company. And my favorite company is the female kind.” He smiled disarmingly at both women.

  Flustered, Angela turned to Cooper in order to read her reaction, but Cooper made a big show of checking her watch. “Time for work, y’all,” she mumbled and hustled off to the locker room. When she emerged from the stall, having changed out of a garnet-colored pullover into her uniform shirt, Emilio was rubbing a polishing cloth over the shiny surface of his black work boots.

  “So what about you?” he asked, his back and shoulders pressed against a row of lockers. Cooper wondered if it was a habit of his to constantly lean on whatever object was at hand.

  “What about me?” she replied while hanging her pullover inside her locker.

  She could feel Emilio studying her. “You like flowers?” he inquired.

  “Yes. I love all plants.” Cooper bent over, laced her work boots tightly, and checked to make sure she had additional rags in her toolbox. “Except poison ivy.”

  “Which flowers do you like best? You a rose girl, too?”

  Cooper shook her head and picked up her toolbox. “No. I like wildflowers better. Roses are too, I don’t know, domesticated for me. I like things a bit messier, a bit more like nature in the raw.” Cooper looked up as Ben entered the locker room.

  He seemed tired, as though he had slept poorly, but he drummed up a smile for Cooper. She was certain he knew that she was the one who had hidden a brochure written for loved ones of alcoholics in his gym bag a few months ago. Still, she was glad she had taken the chance. Ben had acted more like his old, happy-go-lucky self lately, and Cooper continued to pray that he and his wife were getting the help they needed.

  After greeting both of his coworkers, Ben moved over to the sink and began to wash his hands. Cooper stared after him a moment, wondering if she should talk to him about how things were going. Deciding that he would approach her if he wanted to open up about his private life, Cooper realized that she didn’t wish to linger in the midst of Emilio’s domineering presence. Gathering up her toolbox, she yelled out, “See ya!” and left the room.

  As the door to the locker room swung closed, Emilio rubbed his hands together and mumbled under his breath, “She’s like a wildflower. One that I’d like to pluck.” He turned his attention to Ben. “What’s up, man? Things goin’ all right?” He walked over to his coworker and slapped him rather roughly on the back.

  Ben nodded. “Yeah. Busy, too. You’ve brought in quite a few accounts. I guess you are as good a salesman as Mr. Farmer said you were.”

  Emilio preened. “And I’m just gettin’ started. More money for the boss man means more for us. Right?” Ben looked pleased by the idea and Emilio smiled winningly. “Hey, since we’re workin’ with one another, I was wonderin’ if I could ask you for a little inside information.”

  “About what?” Ben responded as he dried his hands.

  “Cooper. The prettiest repairwoman I’ve ever seen,” Emilio said with a lustful glance toward the door. Suddenly, his gaze turned sly. “And her so-called boyfriend. I wanna know who I’m up against.”

  After work on Friday, Ashley called to see whether Cooper was free for dinner.

  “Lincoln working late again?” Cooper asked when Ashley pulled up in front of the Lees’ garage an hour later.

  “I don’t know why
I have the car washed before I come here,” Ashley complained instead of answering. “Why can’t Mama and Daddy get this stupid driveway paved already?” She examined her lipstick in the rearview mirror of her convertible Lexus coupe and then blew a speck of dust off the dashboard. “Lincoln’s kicking off some big Labor Day Sale-a-Thon down at the dealership. He was busy tying balloons to a bunch of Suburbans last time we talked.”

  Cooper slid into the passenger seat and prepared herself for her sister’s scrutiny, but her fawn-colored pants and rust-colored blouse must have met with Ashley’s approval.

  “Are you still afraid to accessorize beyond that brooch?” Ashley eyed Cooper’s butterfly pin and Cooper realized she hadn’t successfully escaped a fashion critique. “I know Grammy gave you that and all, but it does look kind of old-fashioned and retro isn’t in just now. Why don’t I show you some of the cool faux gemstone pieces out now?”

  “I’m not getting into all that stuff, Ashley,” Cooper protested. “And I love this pin. It’s not just a piece of jewelry. It represents a story and . . .”

  “And Grammy’s love. I guess faux gemstones can hardly compete with that,” Ashley added, resigned. As they drove with the top down, there was no chance for further conversation until Ashley parked in front of Five Guys, where they planned to gorge themselves on burgers and spicy Cajun fries. Cooper saw her reflection in the eatery’s glass window and noted that her hair, which had been relatively flat at the end of the workday, was now a tangled mop of dull blonde strands.

  “Sorry I didn’t have an extra scarf,” Ashley said and giggled as she watched Cooper try to comb through a knot above her left ear. “I usually keep a floral one in the glove box, but it blew right out while I was trying to dig around in there for a CD as I was merging onto 95.”

 

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