Risky Business

by Melissa Cutler

  She threw each piece out the window and watched it fall onto the pile of sheets and mattress bits. Once, she had to wait for a trio of bicyclists to pass before lobbing another piece of the shameful bed to the ground. The cyclists eyed the rubble curiously as they passed, and one even thought to look up at the window. Allison blinked the tears and sweat from her eyes and waved, smiling.

  Once she and Chelsea had torn the bed apart, they raced downstairs. Katie was still sleeping soundly, so they slipped through the back door, pickaxes in hand.

  The fresh air and sight of the bed’s rubble brought out Allison’s second wind. Raising the pickaxe above her head, she charged the pile, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her swing sliced through the debris and hit the concrete, reverberating up her arm. She dropped the axe and shook out her arm, laughing and crying and trying not to care about the pain.

  Chelsea came up next to her and gave the pile a kick.

  “That’s a better idea,” Allison said.

  Together, they kicked the pile, dedicating each kick to Lowell and water, to Theo and the creditors hassling Chelsea, and to anyone else they could think of who was doing them wrong. When they were all out of hot air, Allison pulled Chelsea into a tight embrace. They swayed. Allison cried a little more, tears of release and hope. She was going to be okay. More than okay.

  “I needed that. Thank you for being here, Chel.”

  Chelsea squeezed back. “I’m way more fun than Janie would have been.”

  “So true.”

  “You’re going to be a rock star here,” Chelsea said.

  Allison stroked her hair. “Hey, you’re the only rock star in this family. I’m just trying to get by.”

  “You’re going to do more than get by and I’m going to help you.”

  The sound of Theo’s motorcycle caught her attention.

  Allison groaned, even as a thrill coursed through her at the thought of seeing him again. How screwed up was that? He did nothing but make her life more challenging, but she couldn’t get past her attraction.

  She and Chelsea turned toward the sound.

  Standing in a line near the commons were Brandon, Will, and Liam, looking absolutely baffled. Behind them, Theo, his leather jacket on and a helmet in his hand, resting against his thigh. He wore an expression of consternation, or perhaps concern, as though he’d decided that Allison had finally destroyed Cloud Nine as he always expected she would.

  “What’s going on here?” Brandon asked.

  Allison cleared her throat and wiped the last remaining tears from her cheeks. “There was a problem with the bed in the master bedroom. But don’t worry, we took care of it.”

  She barely got that last sentence out before a surprise bout of giggles overtook her. Always game for mischief, Chelsea joined in.

  Then Allison caught Theo’s expression, focused solely on her. She held his gaze, feeling more able than ever to handle whatever shit he was about to throw at her.

  “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

  She blinked. Yes, it had been an emotional day, but hallucinating a random act of kindness? That seemed a smidge on the crazy side, even for her.

  She gave a slight nod, but the concern didn’t ease on his face. Maybe she hadn’t been hallucinating. There was only one way to find out.

  “Theo, I’d like you to meet my sister, Chelsea. She’s staying. And so am I.”

  The concern in his eyes morphed into irritation, right on cue. But he couldn’t take back the hint of humanity he’d revealed with that question.

  Chelsea threw her arm across Allison’s shoulders. “And we’d like to invite you all to a special whore bed bonfire tonight in celebration of that.”

  “Wait, you’re going to set another fire?” Brandon said. “You’d better count me in so I can supervise. This house would be a bitch to rebuild.”

  Brandon only had eyes for Chelsea. But not in any way that resembled how Theo was glaring at Allison. Brandon looked at Chelsea like he was already planning the fastest way into her pants. Allison’s focus shifted past Brandon to Locks, and she was hit with a fresh wave of regret that she ever planted the seed in Chelsea’s head to sleep with Theo’s friends.

  “I’ve got this,” Theo growled. “Don’t waste your night. If Allison lights herself on fire again, I’d like to be the one to throw her in the canal.”

  ***

  Despite Theo’s assurance that he’d keep an eye on Allison and Chelsea’s bonfire—or perhaps because of the possibility of witnessing the spectacle of Theo throwing Allison into the canal again—Brandon and Will had shown up at sunset with a case of beer and an old washing machine drum to use as a fire pit.

  Harper had arrived with a huge basket of french fries in her hand as they were piling pieces of the whore bed into the drum. Theo had supervised the whole affair from a distance, only joining them after Brandon threatened to buy him a puppy. He’d been a quiet, grumpy presence all night. Every time she looked his way, he was watching her.

  They’d ended up ordering a pizza, then bullshitting and swapping stories long into the night, long after Katie had fallen asleep in Allison’s arms and had been tucked into her crib. The night was cool, the mood was relaxed, and Allison was totally at peace, watching the bed burn and hanging out with her new friends and favorite sister.

  “Allison, may I ask you a question?” Brandon said. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, but I’m curious.”

  “Okay, go ahead.” Allison’s mind raced through a dozen topics trying to anticipate what Brandon was curious about.

  Brandon cringed. “Don’t get offended.”

  “I won’t, but the suspense is killing me.”

  He held his hand out and counted on his fingers. “You’re pretty and sweet and nice and—”

  “Make your point,” Theo grouched.

  Brandon ignored Theo. “So, what were you doing married to Lowell Whitley? I met him once and . . .” He cringed. “I’m sorry. I know that’s so rude of me to ask, but I’m dying of curiosity about how you two ended up together.”

  “I was wondering that, myself,” Harper added. “You seem so mismatched.”

  “They were totally mismatched. Lowell was never good enough for you.” Chelsea softly plucked her guitar strings, more like she was keeping her fingers busy than trying to play anything.

  Allison agreed about him being no good, and she didn’t have anything to hide about her past, so Brandon’s curiosity didn’t bother her. “I don’t mind you asking. Believe me, you’re not the first. Lowell and I were a lot of things, but we were never in love. He and I met at a party while I was in college. My roommate was an intern on his city council campaign. I was looking for a man to finance my dream of being a stay-at-home mom and he was looking for a wife to run his house, raise his kids, and make him look good. I thought it was the perfect setup.”

  “Cynical much?” Harper said.

  “I know. It’s a bad habit to break.”

  She’d never know if she’d been genetically predisposed to that worldview or if the seed had been planted in her psyche because of her near drowning, then cultivated with each water-soaked milestone in her life, but that hardly mattered.

  “For the first couple years, we were content in our shared goal of creating a life that looked good and hit all the markers—the well-kept house, the tidy, drama-free relationship that furthered Lowell’s political career. I wanted the quality neighborhood, the freedom, and the financing to raise my children the way I’d always dreamed.”

  “What changed your mind about the arrangement?” Brandon asked.

  That was an easy answer. “Getting pregnant. That’s what it took for me to realize how unhappy I was being married to Lowell, because what we had wasn’t love, not anywhere close to the way loving Katie felt. I figured out that my priorities had been totally screwed up.”

/>   Will leaned forward, cradling his soda can between his knees, chewing his bottom lip like he had a question.

  “What’s up, Will?” Allison said.

  “Why haven’t you changed your last name? No offense.”

  “None taken. That’s a really good question, actually. I thought long and hard about changing it back to my maiden name, which is Lexington. What it all came down to was that I didn’t want to change Katie’s last name. For all his sins, Lowell’s still her father and I didn’t want her to grow up thinking I was trying to keep that part of her identity from her. I didn’t want to have a different last name than she did, since it’s just the two of us now, so I figured I’d just be a Whitley until she got older.”

  “Or until you remarry,” Will said.

  “I guess you’re right. It’s hard to imagine being in a relationship right now, though. I have enough on my plate with Katie and Cloud Nine.”

  Chelsea’s guitar strumming stopped. “You don’t need a relationship. You need sex.”

  Allison’s cheeks heated. Yes, she did. “Thanks, sis. Really classy.”

  Brandon’s smiled wolfishly at Chelsea. “I like the way you think.”

  Oh, boy.

  Harper cleared her throat. “So, Allison, what are you going to do about a bed now? You said you only moved one in.”

  “Brandon helped us move my old bed up to the master bedroom, then one of my old couches up to the guest room for Chelsea until we can afford to buy another bed.” Or until Chelsea moved on and Allison doesn’t have to worry about a second bed for a while.

  “That doesn’t sound very comfortable,” Brandon said. “We might have to find you a new bed to sleep in.”

  Harper jumped to her feet. “Well, all. I’d better get back to Locks. Thanks for letting me crash your whore bed bonfire.”

  Frustrated by Brandon’s obnoxious flirting with Chelsea, Allison stood and hugged Harper. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “That’s okay. I can find my own way.” The way she said it made Allison think she wanted the time alone, so Allison didn’t push the matter.

  Will stood next. “I’d better take off, too, because Duke said we have to be back here at seven, and I’m no good on less than seven hours of sleep.”

  Allison hugged him next. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t burn the building down. The drum was a great idea.”

  “You’re welcome.” His gaze flickered to Chelsea. “Brandon, you coming with me?”

  Brandon looked at Chelsea, as though he expected her to give him a ride, but she kept her eyes on her guitar, picking out a tune. Either that was an advanced flirting technique Allison wasn’t aware of or she wasn’t as interested in Brandon as Allison had originally thought.

  After a moment of awkward silence, Brandon rose, wiping his hands on his thighs. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

  No sooner had they left, than Theo stood. Arms crossed over his chest, he kept an eye on Harper until she disappeared inside Locks, then, without a word, he walked into the garage.

  Allison watched him go with a mixture of relief and regret that the two of them couldn’t gel. For all his surliness, he was a good man. Making sure Harper made it into Locks safely was yet another piece of evidence to that truth he worked so hard to hide.

  When they were alone again, Chelsea stood with her guitar and ambled to the edge of the canal, playing a song to the water.

  Allison stood near her, not all the way to the edge, but as far as she could without evoking that off-balance feeling she loathed.

  “I’m going to sleep with Brandon,” Chelsea said over the melody of her song.

  So, then, she had been using advanced flirting techniques when she was ignoring him. “What, did you guys, like, make an appointment?”

  “In a way. I’m going to invite him to my gig on Friday night.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly. Allison was never that certain of anything. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m going to seduce him. Is that going to be a problem for your relationship with Theo?”

  “No. Do you think that’s the best choice? I mean, the rumor is that he gets around. Do you really want to be just another notch on his bedpost?”

  “Lighten up, sis. Life’s too short.”

  Allison took another step nearer and slugged Chelsea gently in the shoulder. “Says the homeless musician.”

  “And broke. Don’t forget that part. I’m flat broke.”

  Allison grinned. “And terrible at relationships.”

  “You’re one to talk, divorced single mom.”

  “Hey, now.”

  It was Chelsea’s turn to smile. “But we always land on our feet, don’t we?”

  Allison didn’t bother to point out that Chelsea only landed on her feet because she had so many people backing her up, like Allison and their parents, and even Grant and Janie in their own ways. Just as they all did with Allison. “You’re always welcome to stay with me, for as long as you need, whenever you need.”

  Chelsea regarded her pensively until Allison asked, “What?”

  “I like you like this.”

  “Like what, relaxed?”

  “No. You’ll never be accused of that. But . . . confident. Quick to laugh. It suits you.”

  It did suit her. If she could only reach equilibrium with Theo, then life would be pretty darn good, for the first time in a long time. “Well, be careful with Brandon.”

  “Uh, okay. I’ll use protection and bring pepper spray. Satisfied?”

  Allison hugged herself against the chill in the air and took another step closer to the canal. “I meant, because he and Harper have something going on, and you don’t want to end up in the middle of that mess.”

  “You told me that earlier, but they sure didn’t look like it tonight. I know because I was watching for it. They didn’t even sit next to each other.”

  “They’re both in denial that they should be dating. It’s screwed up, but I thought you should know.”

  “Oh, then whatever,” Chelsea said. “Maybe they’re in denial because they’re not really meant to be together.” She strummed a few chords of a melody Allison didn’t recognize.

  “Harper doesn’t want to be with him because he sleeps around so much.”

  “You’re telling me that because you think it’ll make me think twice about sleeping with him?”

  Maybe Allison was, subconsciously. “It’s just that I don’t understand how you can be so casual about sex.” She hadn’t had sex since the month Katie was conceived and, frankly, she was surprised she’d been able to say the word sex without spontaneously combusting.

  “Where’s the line between casual and meaningful?”

  “I’m not sure, but there is a line.”

  “Did you and Lowell have casual sex or meaningful sex?”

  Strange question. “We were married.”

  “True, but you said you didn’t love him.”

  Allison hadn’t really thought about it from Chelsea’s angle before, but she still didn’t think what she and Lowell had done could be labeled casual. “No. But it did mean something. He gave me Katie.”

  Chelsea smiled. “Then it did mean something. You’re right. Katie’s amazing and you’re a great mom.”

  “It took me a long time to be honest about not loving him. It was embarrassing because admitting I didn’t love him meant admitting I used him. I didn’t love him and I only married him because I thought he’d be a great provider and stay out of my way so I could be the kind of stay-at-home mom I’d always dreamt of being.”

  “You’re still beating yourself up about that. You need to stop that.”

  Allison inched forward again, reaching the rail. The moonlight glistened on the water like scattered diamonds. She knelt and picked up a pebble from one of the cracks in the cement, t
hen threw it into the middle of the diamonds. “It’s confusing because I love Katie so much and I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but I regret the way I got her. I mean, I know Lowell was using me, too, but I’d like to think I’m a better person than he is.”

  “I’ve told you this before, but maybe this time it’ll sink in. You had a dream to be a stay-at-home mom, and there’s nothing wrong with chasing your dream.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You won’t stop beating yourself up about marrying Lowell, but you had a tricky dream, like my dream. They’re dreams that depend on other people for them to come true. I can’t make a living as a singer unless the right people in the industry like and support my music, financially. You couldn’t be a stay-at-home mom without financial support.”

  “And swimmers.”

  She waved off Allison’s attempt at humor. “There are plenty of swimmers in the sea, so to speak. It’s finding someone who’ll bankroll your dream that’s the problem.”

  “You’re right, but don’t go comparing your dream to mine because mine’s never going to happen, but you’re going to make it as a singer. I just know it. You’re too good not to.”

  “Thank you. You always were my biggest fan, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I am good at what I do, but there’s so much more to making it as a singer than believing in myself and being talented. It takes being in the right place at the right time and having someone else seeing in me what I see in me.”

  How could someone so flaky and terrible at managing her life be filled with such nuggets of wisdom? It was one of Chelsea’s great mysteries.

  “I never had that with Lowell.” Then it hit her—that blindness had been mutual. She never saw him for who he truly was, either. The realization that their deceptions went both ways was oddly comforting.

  “Someday, someone’s going to see in you what you see in you. And that’s who you want in your life. It’s going to be kismet. You’ll see.”