Patrick, with his military precision, shaved head, and cold demeanor, had moved her through the events of the day. Stella didn’t understand why he would, he didn’t know her at all. Jamie’s dead. Patrick’s here.
Cooper crawled into Stella’s bed and laid his head right next to hers on the pillow, his big paw resting on her arm. Stella closed her eyes, but didn’t sleep. She had lived through the day. Even though she thought at least a million times she was going to die, she was still breathing. She didn’t know what came after this. Where would she go? She had no home. Jamie had been her home.
Chapter Four
Here’s the Plan
Stella walked with Cooper down the stairs into the room she and Jamie shared for only one night. She slid down the wall, sat on the floor and glared at all the unlabelled boxes she would have to go through, all of his things. She sobbed again, even though she thought she was out of tears. Could she please just run out of fucking tears! She opened a box of Jamie’s and pulled out his old college baseball jersey. Inhaling deeply, she smelled him. Clementines. Tearing off her clothes, she slipped it over her head and crawled into their bed. Sometime later she felt Cooper climb up on the platform bed and lay next to her.
Stella only got out of her bed to use the bathroom, which wasn’t often since she didn’t drink anything all day. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, but didn’t look up.
“Okay, I’m going to give you two more days of this shit before I take things into my own hands.” She felt something hit the pillow; Patrick had thrown a protein bar and a bottle of water on her bed.
Stella didn’t respond.
Two days later, true to his promise, Patrick returned downstairs after work. Throwing the covers off Stella, he picked her up, legs flailing. In two steps, he was in the bathroom, where he threw her unceremoniously into the bathtub. He turned on the water full blast, soaking her and finally forcing a reaction.
“Holy shit, Patrick!” she yelled as she put her hands up, attempting to block the water from her face. In less than thirty seconds, she was soaked from head to toe, including Jamie’s baseball jersey.
“You stink and you haven’t eaten in days. If you don’t get your ass upstairs right now and eat what I cooked for dinner, I will call your fucking daddy. Is that how you want to be treated? Like a child who can’t take care of herself?” With that, Patrick turned and walked up the stairs.
Stella was stunned, then pissed. She stomped up the stairs after him, soaking wet in nothing but Jamie’s white baseball jersey. When she got to the kitchen, she glared at Patrick and stomped over to the table, sitting down next to a guy she had never seen.
“Well, hello there, hot stuff,” the stranger said, looking over at Patrick. “I’m guessing this is our new roommate?”
“Yep,” Patrick said, grabbing a towel and mopping up the water rolling off Stella’s body.
“I’m Billy. Hopefully you’ll attend all group dinners in a wet, white T-shirt.” The guy took in her appearance and raked his hand through his shaggy, dirty-blond hair that reached just past his ears. He pushed his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. Dressed in what appeared to be a white undershirt shirt and suit pants, it was clear he had just gotten home from work. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown and full of humor.
“You know my fiancé just died, right?” Stella spouted at the stranger.
“Um,” Billy Stevens looked down at his plate. “Yeah, sorry to hear about that.”
“Whatever.”
“What made you finally get out of your bed? It looks like Patrick threw you in the shower...”
“And threatened to call my ‘daddy’,” she made air quotes to emphasize the word daddy.
“Wow, Patrick, that’s pretty dirty.” Billy still looked amused.
“Well, she can’t stay in her bed forever. She’s supposed to start law school in a week.”
“How the fuck do you know when I’m suppose to start law school?” she yelled belligerently.
Patrick put a plate of stir-fry and a beer in front of her on the table.
“Just to warn you both, now that I’m out of my bed, you may want to run and get more alcohol. I plan to drink until I pass out. Ready...go.” Stella took the beer and swallowed it in two gulps.
“Holy shit, I’m in love,” Billy exclaimed, eyes going wide.
Stella ignored him and motioned for Patrick to get her another beer, which he did.
“I guess functioning, even while drunk, is better than not functioning at all,” Billy said, shrugging his shoulders.
Patrick took in Stella, his eyes raking over her body slowly. She looked at him, “What’re you looking at?”
“Well, you’re basically nude at the table with two dudes. What do you think I’m looking at?”
“You’re the one who forced me out of my bed.” She threw a piece of chicken to Cooper.
“So what’s your plan? You’ve been laying in your bed for four days, certainly you’ve formulated a plan by now.”
“A plan?” she asked with her mouth full of stir-fry.
“A plan to get through this mourning and missing Jamie shit.” Patrick looked away and lowered his voice, “I mean…I understand this is hard for you and you loved him and all, but you’ve got to start getting back to life.”
“My fiancé DIED LESS THAN A WEEK AGO, YOU ASSHOLE!” She got up and threw her plate at the sink, breaking it, food flying everywhere.
Billy blew out the breath he’d been holding and Patrick pushed his chair away from the table. “You’re acting like a child and you’re not a child. Clean this shit up.”
“No!” She yelled and walked back downstairs. She was almost back to her bed when Patrick grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her back upstairs. As he put her down, she attempted to shove him. He didn’t move.
“Clean it up now. We’re not your fucking maids. We weren’t put here on Earth to clean up after you. I know you’re sad, mad, whatever...”
Billy walked over and started sweeping up the pieces of plate that had fallen to the floor.
“I’ll get it,” she sneered as she ripped the broom out of his hand.
Patrick sat on the counter while she cleaned. “You need a plan, El. A plan will help.”
She looked at him. “How do you know what the fuck will help me? And my name is Stella.”
“Everyone I know has a nickname,” Patrick shrugged.
“What’s Billy’s?”
“Billy.” Patrick looked at Billy. “His real name is William.”
“My name is only two syllables. I really don’t need a nickname.” Stella wiped the dustpan off into the trashcan.
Billy handed her another beer. “I like El. Short and sweet.” Billy commented.
“Just opposite of me...” Stella said.
“I like you already, El, you are one feisty bitch.” Billy smiled and clinked his beer against hers, which was sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Watch it asshole, you don’t know me,” Stella fired back.
Patrick jumped down off the counter and sat back down in his seat at the kitchen table. “Here’s the plan. First, we’re going to go through all his things. You keep what you want, we give the rest to his family. Second, we’ll drink with you until you don’t want to drink anymore. Third, you go to law school and immerse yourself in all things law and get through it until you can act normal. Fourth, you’ll do what I tell you to do.”
Stella was staring at Patrick with her mouth open. “The only one of those I agree to is number two. We will drink. A LOT!”
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Romantic Suspense – By A Thread Series
Romantic Comedy – Sunshine & Whiskey
Coming of Age – Razorblade Kisses
Psychological Thriller – Quiet Lies
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Manbuns & Martinis (Drinking #1.5) Page 10
