Pretty Dirty Trick: A Rich Bitches Novel

by Kiss, Tabatha

  He’s got nothing.

  Say you don’t know what he’s talking about.

  We’ll be out in five minutes.

  I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the subpoena. Five minutes of Argento Barbie and I’ll be right back to ignoring him and my family again.

  The door opens and I quickly turn my head up. A woman with thick-rimmed glasses walks in carrying a stenotype. She nods at me and sits down at the far end of the table as I exhale slowly. Not him. Not yet.

  My eyes land on the bottle of water in front of me. That adorable secretary brought them in before. She smiled at me with what I’m sure was a clever wink-wink but things have definitely changed since I leapt into Lance’s coat closet.

  The door opens again and my breath catches.

  Lance walks in. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “Meeting went long.”

  My heart stops as soon as I see his face.

  “That’s all right, Lance,” Jerry slurs. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Finally, Lance turns to look at me. “Ms. Argento,” he says with a nod.

  “Mr. Tyler,” I say.

  He sits down across from me and sets his notes down, along with his phone all ready to record our conversation. I stare at him, my stomach getting wrecked by butterflies. I’ve felt nauseous all morning counting the moments until I’d be in the same room with him again.

  It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him.

  We were barely together for very long at all and yet I still feel like someone just reached across the table and ripped my heart out. I’ve been in relationships that lasted ten times as long that I got over in a matter of hours but Lance Tyler has lingered with me. That man. His life. His beautiful daughter. How much I wanted to be a part of all of it.

  But I didn’t fit. I don’t fit in anywhere. Not in his family or mine.

  Lance raises his eyes, glancing at me for only a second before clearing his throat and looking down again. “Ms. Argento, would you state your name for the record, please?”

  I nod as I gather my wits. “Beatrix May Argento.”

  “And your father is Angelo Argento?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ms. Argento, are you aware of any of your father’s dealings with local businesses?”

  “My father sponsors several local businesses,” I answer.

  “I’m not referring to sponsorships,” he says. “I’m referring to him extorting them.”

  “Objection, Lance,” Jerry says. “Where’s your proof?”

  Lance opens his file and slides out a sheet of paper. “According to your own bookkeeping, Mr. Smitts, the deposits made on these dates last month correspond to the same amount leaving the accounts owned by the following local business: Yummy Bean Coffee, The Red Brick Road, and—”

  Jerry scoffs. “These numbers are rent, Lance. Mr. Argento owns the buildings these businesses operate in.”

  “Except these amounts are fifty percent more than what they say they pay in rent,” Lance says. “You mind explaining why these people are overpaying your father, Ms. Argento?”

  I flinch but my mouth opens. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my tongue stiff.

  “Hikes in rent occurred in this area in the same month in 1995,” he says, staring at me. “The same month the violent crime rate plummeted.”

  “Sounds like the quality of living went up with the property values,” Jerry says. “This is economics, not crime.”

  Lance keeps his eyes on me. “Ms. Argento—”

  “Jerry’s right,” I say. “Once again you’ve dragged me down here for unfounded accusations with no substantial proof.”

  “There’s more than enough reasonable doubt here to convince a jury,” he says.

  “Then, we’ll see you in court, Mr. Tyler.”

  I lock my knees to keep them from shaking as I stand up and grab my jacket off the chair. I expect Lance to argue and say he has more questions but he just sits there as Jerry and I head for the door.

  “Have a good day, Ms. Argento,” he finally says.

  I turn back, my chest tugging me toward him but I stick to the doorway.

  “You, too, Mr. Tyler,” I say.

  Our eyes lock once more. Is this really what our affair has morphed into? Pointed stares and ambiguous pleasantries?

  But he made his choice. I made mine.

  I look straight ahead as I walk to the elevator with Jerry’s voice murmuring in one ear and out the other. He seems happy, the bare hints of a smile on his lips, so I guess he approves of my performance. The Argento family lives for another day. I guess that’s a good thing.

  I step onto the elevator, trying hard to keep my eyes on the floor but I give in at the final moment before the doors close.

  Lance stands at the end of the hall, one hand in a pocket and the other gripping his notes by his side. Stiff jaw and soft eyes.

  The doors close and I hold my breath as the sudden descent turns my stomach.

  Forty

  Lance

  Trix. My Trix.

  But can I really even say that?

  We went through so much in so little time, it feels like longer than it was. Why does the very sight of her sting this badly?

  I push open my office door, not holding back my epic sigh even though I’m not alone. Max sits at my desk with his feet propped up on the edge. He glances up from his phone and quickly drops it into his breast pocket as I step inside.

  “Back already?” he asks.

  I nod. “Gave me the runaround, as expected.”

  “You don’t need her anyway,” he says, brushing a hand. “You’ve got enough to convince the judge to move forward.”

  “Right.” I drop the file on my desk. “I don’t need her,” I mutter.

  “Right.” He squints. “You don’t need her,” he repeats.

  “Right,” I say again.

  “Lance...” He releases his feet to the floor. “Stay focused.”

  “I’m focused. I am very focused.”

  “Think of your career,” he says. “Think of Haley. You’ve got her undergrad taken care of but what about law school? That’s not cheap. She’s going to law school, right?”

  I pace toward the windows. “Oh, I remember. And... I don’t know. Maybe. Up to her.”

  He shrugs. “I know you really liked this woman but... come on, we pro/con listed this whole thing already.”

  “I know we did.”

  “And you’re still hesitating?” he asks.

  “I’m not hesitating,” I say. “I’m what-if-ing.”

  “That’s worse.”

  I pause by the window and flick the blinds open to look outside. Cold and rainy, as usual.

  “I just think that if—”

  “Lance.”

  I exhale, letting it go. “Okay.”

  “Look, you had a fling with a woman you probably shouldn’t have had a fling with.” He points at himself. “Trust me, I’ve been there. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “But she doesn’t deserve this,” I say. “She’s a good person.”

  “And what about her father? Or her brothers?” he asks. “What about the millions of dollars they’ve extorted — that she’s benefited from? Or however many people Angelo’s gotten killed in the process?”

  “And he’s paying for his crimes.” I shake my head. “The only crime she’s committed is being born into the wrong family.”

  “That... and a pretty solid case can be made for obstruction of justice, but...” Max stands up and slaps my shoulder. “Anyway, let’s backburner this thing and go meet your daughter for lunch. All right? Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Get it out of your mind, sleep on it ‘til Monday, do what you gotta do. I’ve got your back either way.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He crosses his arms, glaring at me. “Man, when you fall, you fall hard.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Hey, guys like us, we can smell
our own.” He grins. “My situation required compromise and trust. Yours... is a little more complicated. If you think you can compromise and trust your way out of this one and save your relationship, go for it. Otherwise...”

  I nod as he heads toward the coat closet for his jacket.

  “Otherwise...” I mutter to myself.

  Otherwise... it’s done for good and I should move on. Move on with this case. Move on with my life... destroying hers in the process.

  Trix and I were lightning in a bottle but I can still feel her presence around me all the time. The feel of her matte lipstick pressed against my cheek. Her feminine scent seeping out of her pores. The way her entire body rumbled when she laughed.

  Christ, I really did fall hard. I haven’t felt this way about a woman since...

  Haley’s mother.

  Young, stupid, and naive. Those are easily the best descriptors for that time of my life and I can’t help but think the same about right now. I haven’t been a teenager in a long time but there’s still that aching tremble of first love roaring through my chest at the mere sight of Trix. She’s smart, insanely beautiful, and absolutely perfect so long as we agree to forget her last name for an hour or so.

  Max snaps his fingers twice in front of my face and drops my coat over my arm. “Lance. Food. Haley. Fun times to be had.”

  I clear my throat and slide the coat on.

  “Right. Fun times,” I say.

  Forty-One

  Trix

  Raindrops fall along the rim of my umbrella. I probably should have taken Jerry up on his offer to give me a ride back home but then again... eh. I’d rather walk. Also, after seeing Lance again...

  Eh.

  At least I got to say the words I’ll see you in court. I always wanted to do that but it doesn’t feel nearly as satisfying…

  I turn the corner, picking up my pace as the sign for Kenny’s tattoo parlor comes into view. Once again, I find myself beaten down and broken with nowhere to turn to and — surprise, surprise — I brought it on myself. I feel a twitch in my right arm. My family’s marque. All that time in the chair wasted. Maybe Kenny has some ideas of what to do with it before I run and get it lasered off.

  I extend my hand for the door but it opens suddenly. I hop back, balancing beneath my umbrella.

  “Whoops. Sorry.”

  “Wow, again?”

  My lips curl as I peek up into Robbie’s deep, smiling eyes. “Hey, Robbie.”

  He looks me up and down as rain drops on his forehead. “Yet another unplanned trip under the needle?” he asks. “You wanna talk about it?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  He snorts.

  I exhale. Hard. “Okay, I’m still a little messed-up post-Lance break-up. He just interviewed me in his office for the case so I came over here to—”

  “Whoa.” He blinks repeatedly as he leans back, staring intently at me for several seconds before his eyes grow wide. “Whoa...”

  I stand still. “What? Do I have a bug in my hair or something?”

  He snatches my hand. “Come with me.”

  “Wait, Rob—”

  “Just come with me.”

  I pick up my pace as he drags me with him down the street.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  He doesn’t answer. He tugs me along and I try not to smack into other people with my umbrella as we bolt past them.

  Robbie makes a quick turn to open the door to the pharmacy on the corner.

  I hop inside, happy to get out of the rain. “What are we doing here—”

  “Zzzz-shush!”

  He grabs my shoulders and pushes me forward, steering me all the way into the back. When we reach the center of some random, empty aisle, he stops me and swings out in front of me.

  “When was the first day of your last period?” he asks.

  My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

  “Have you felt a little nauseous lately?” he adds. “Maybe some unexplained fatigue, perhaps?”

  “What? No. What the hell are you even—”

  “I get no pleasure from this.”

  He pinches my nipples over my coat.

  I gasp and recoil backward into the shelf behind me as discomfort surges through my chest.

  “Robbie, why the fuck...” I pause and gently tweak my nipples again, “... am I so sensitive? That’s weird.”

  Robbie raises a knowing brow and nods at the shelf beside us. “You need to piss on a stick pronto, Trix.”

  I look at it, suddenly realizing that he led me into the pregnancy test aisle.

  I drop my hands to my sides. “No,” I say. “No, no, no—”

  “Trix, seriously.”

  “No, no. I can’t be,” I say. “I had my period a week ago.”

  “Was it weirdly light?” he asks suspiciously. “Did you think mother nature just gave you a lucky break this month?”

  “I thought it was stress.”

  He winces. “Honey, no...”

  I cover my mouth. “Oh, my god...”

  “Yep. That’s what I thought. Implantation bleeding.”

  “Oh, fuck...” I glare at him. “Wait, how do you know this stuff?”

  He stands taller. “Trix, I am the oldest of seven children.”

  I blink. “Whoa, that’s a lot.”

  “I have five sisters — you and Nora not included.”

  “Oh, jeez.”

  He nods. “I’ve seen things no man should ever experience. Through that, I developed a sixth sense for pregnancy-related symptoms. It’s how I know danger is near and you...” He gestures at me with fear. “You are setting off some serious red flags for me right now. You’re lucky I’m even talking to you at all.”

  I rest a hand on my stomach. “Well, what do I do?”

  “Oh, nuh-uh,” he says, waving his hands. “I just detect smoke. It’s up to you to put out the fire.”

  I grab his jacket sleeve. “No, Rob! You can’t drop this on me and leave. I’m freaking out here. What do I do?”

  “You…” He turns his hands up. “I don’t know. Take a test and chill? I’ve been wrong before.”

  I perk up. “You have?”

  “No.”

  I groan, still clinging to his arm.

  He lays his hand on mine. “Trix, just relax. You have time and options and a significant supply of both. You’ll be fine. Now…” He tries to pry my fingers off. “I have to be somewhere…”

  “Where?”

  “Literally anywhere else.”

  “Robbie, please…” I beg.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Stand outside your bathroom and hold your hand?”

  “Would you?”

  He sighs. “I meant that to be outlandish.”

  “Oh, come on! You’d do it for Melanie.”

  “Y—no. Melanie’s fixed. I’m pretty sure any conversation we’d had about her getting pregnant would have included a priest because the second coming’s-a-coming.”

  “Rob.”

  “Or she’d need an exorcism. That one’s more likely.”

  “You owe me,” I say, pointing a finger.

  “I owe you?”

  “I didn’t tell Mel about the stupid flowers with the one-inch ribbons and the cute, little notes on ‘em! Or the sexting!”

  His face screws up with panic. “That doesn’t mean I owe you!”

  “Yes, it does. I kept a huge secret from my best friend. Now, you have to hold my hand while I find out whether or not I’m an even worse daughter than I already am.”

  He groans loudly. “I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass.”

  “Robbie, please.”

  His head drops. “Fine,” he says.

  “You’ll go back to my apartment with me?”

  He bites down in hesitation. “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Super promise?”

  “Yes.” He exhales in annoyance. “You know, I got snipped at twe
nty-five so I’d never have to do exactly this.”

  I smile and release my hold on his arm. “Thank you, Robbie.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” His lips pull into an involuntary half-smile. He nudges my chin with his bandaged hand. “You’re welcome, Blossom.”

  * * *

  I stare at the plastic stick in my hand. I have the instructions in the other but I've already read them so many times I can recite them from memory. Point the absorbent tip downward. Place the absorbent tip in urine stream for at least ten seconds...

  And now, I wait.

  God, it’s taking forever.

  I open my bathroom door and step out into the bedroom. Robbie sits on my bed with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, looking painfully uncomfortable but he forces a big smile anyway.

  “How’d it go?” he asks.

  I check the tiny window on the stick. “Nothing yet.”

  He nods and glances around. He bites his cheek and rocks slightly back and forth. Replace the leather with a straitjacket and he’ll fit right in with how I feel right now.

  “So, why don’t you ever talk about your family?” I ask, desperate for a distraction.

  “Not much to say, really,” he says. “I was born. They raised me. I left as soon as I got my motorcycle license and never looked back.”

  “Where were you born?”

  Robbie holds his breath for a moment, then finally, “Kansas.”

  “No way.” I smile.

  “Tiny town about an hour from Kansas City.”

  “Robbie Wheeler, resident badass, is from Small Town, Kansas?”

  He glares. “I said I never went back.”

  “Do your sisters still live there?” I ask, amused.

  “A few,” he says with a nod. “One escaped to Topeka. Another is stationed in Florida with her husband, I think. Hard to keep track of them.”

  “I bet.”

  “My little brother, Tucker, is still there. He’s a mechanic. Are you pregnant?”

  I groan as reality violently tugs me back in. “I don’t know.”

  Robbie’s eyes flick down to the stick. “Well?”

  I shift on my feet. “I don’t wanna.”