“Shut your mouth and eat your goddamned food, Bianca Parker. If you could listen to your dipshit ex-boyfriend for months, you can damn well listen to me. I at least don’t plan to slowly watch you starve yourself to death, dumbass.”
Her mouth drops open, and I watch in satisfaction as she gasps back air, speechless for the first time. Before I know it she’s shooting to her feet and in my face, her index finger drilling into my chest, right above my left breast.
“Now you listen here, Cecelia Bennet. Just because I’ve been an idiot for the last seven months doesn’t mean I’m willing to listen to you call me stupid all day long. If you can’t be nice, shut your goddamned mouth!” she yells into my face, the fire in her eyes so hot I feel my hair heat.
“That’s good to know, Bee. I’m glad to see you’re not a completely broken woman. That means you can start beating your problems without a potty partner every second of the day. Now, sit down and eat your breakfast while I grab a shower. If you puke it up I’ll just make more, but be warned: I’ll ram it down your fucking throat if I have to, and knock your ass out to keep it there.”
I see a shadow of a smile tip her mouth before she sticks her tongue out at me and returns to her breakfast. She sips her shake and glares, pasting a patently fake smile to her lips.
“Mmm, delicious.”
“Oh good, then you won’t mind drinking it at lunch or dinner,” I say cheerily, laughing all the way to the bathroom as she curses me to hell and back.
I step under the spray and let the soothing heat of the water relax my tense muscles before soaping myself quickly and rinsing off. I trust Bee about as much as a serial killer at a birthday party, so I hurry through my routine and dress, making it back to the kitchen in just over ten minutes.
“Calm down, Mother, I ate it all and even finished that slime shake,” she mutters, flipping me the bird to show her annoyance at my lack of trust. “So, what are you up to today?”
I pour myself an orange juice—another friendship sacrifice I’m making besides the liver—and lean back against the counter.
“I have to swing by Vern’s and collect my checks for the paintings he sold, and then I thought I’d take you shopping for clothes that actually fit your thin ass.”
Tough love, baby. Tough love.
“You also have your first appointment with your shrink at three, so I guess we have a pretty full schedule for today. You’re gonna be so happy I made you eat that breakfast, bitch. You’re gonna need your strength to keep up with me.”
“Oh really?” she snorts. “You forget I’m a full year younger than you, Grandma. I can run circles around you no problem.”
I hide my smile and refrain from telling her that this excursion is on doctor’s orders. Bee has to start getting out and not hide in the apartment all day when she’s not working—another thing I need to ease her into, because she’s officially fired after I’d called Angie yesterday and told her Bee needed some time off.
Thank God I’m getting some money in from Vern and Vincent, or we’d be in deep crap.
“A hundred bucks says you’re crying for mercy by noon,” I taunt, sipping arrogantly at my juice.
Goddamn, I don’t know how people function without a cup of coffee in the morning.
“You’re on old lady.”
***
“You need to slow down, Sis, I can’t…”
I stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and wait for Bee to catch up, her breaths wheezing as she grabs onto me and stands panting for breath.
I’d set a grueling pace the last hour, and though I feel a little guilty about pushing her so hard, I hold my hand out and point my finger at my palm.
“Pay up, sucker.”
“You are such a bitch. Have you been powerwalking in your sleep? Where the hell did you learn to walk that fast?”
“Stop dodging the issue. You lost, now pay me my money.”
Her face falls slightly before her eyes narrow and pin me, making me feel as transparent as the windows in my studio at Vincent’s. I feel like she knows exactly what I’ve been doing, that I’m pushing her to her breaking point on purpose, and I feel like pond scum.
But it has to be this way. I need her desperate, bleeding a little, so that when she goes to her first appointment with that shrink she won’t be strong enough to bullshit the guy. Bee is a class-A bullshitter, and I know that head-shrinker won’t stand a chance unless I open her wounds a little.
“Sis, you know…I don’t have any money.”
“Then you need to offer an alternative. No, wait, I already know what I want,” I say, flagging down a cab.
When we’re in and headed to the shrink’s office, I turn back to her.
“All I want from you is one thing, Bee, one tiny thing. If you can do that for me I’ll consider your debt paid. If not…” I shrug and meet her eyes with a hard stare. “I’ll call Jeff and he can take over from here.”
She stiffens for a second before the fight leaves her and then nods her head once.
“I want you to swear to me that you will never see, speak to, or be in any kind of contact with Eric, ever again. Not a text, note, phone call. Nada.”
I see the tears that spring into her eyes and shimmer there and feel like the worst heel, like I’ve kicked a defenseless puppy. Of course this is hard for her. She loved—still loves—Eric, no matter how much she knows that’s not smart.
But I’ve decided that her shrink can coddle her. I’m going to be the whip that cracks against her ass every time she tries to veer off course.
“That’s worth a lot more than a measly hundred dollars.”
“Okay, then pay me and we can move on.”
“Christ, you’re like a dog with a bone, you know that? Fine, I promise I won’t have anything to do with him again. Satisfied?”
“Yup. Now stop pouting, Bee, your head’s about to be shrunk.”
We exit the cab, me carrying the shopping bags filled with her new clothes and a little something I picked up from VS, just for Vincent. It takes a lot for me to sit in the waiting room and ignore her silent pleas when the doctor comes out and ushers her into his office, but I hold myself steady and watch her shuffle away, her shoulders drooped in defeat.
My phone rings, and I smile.
“How did you know I needed to hear your voice right now?”
He chuckles, and I hear what sounds like a satisfied purr. The man loves it when I get all feelingsy on him. Marshmallow.
“I couldn’t go another minute without hearing your sweet voice. And setting up a phone sex appointment for tonight, of course.”
The receptionist glares at me when I laugh, so I leave the bags and stand, making my way outside into the chilly air.
“Phone sex, huh? That sounds interesting. Will there be mutual gratification involved?”
“Of course. I’m a giver, dove. I always aim to please,” he drawls, making me tingle all over.
“You should see the gift I got you today.”
“A gift?”
I hear the excitement and interest in his voice and giggle. Vincent loves being pampered, something I’ve only recently caught onto.
“Yeah, and I think you’ll love it, too. So, six more days?”
He sighs, and I regret my words immediately. I hate coming off as the whiny girlfriend, but I miss him. A lot. Way more than I should, considering how short our relationship has been.
“Yeah. I’ve been in back to back meetings here, and I leave for France tomorrow. You’re coming with the next time I have to leave for so long.”
“As long as you don’t stick me in a hotel room and leave me alone.”
I hear murmured voices and his soft cursing.
“You’re busy, Vincent. Go back to work. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay, dove.”
It’s weird that that’s the way we say good-bye. I feel a little bereft not saying some corny shit like “I love you” or even “be safe”, but we are so not there yet, so I
settle for his soft regret and end the call.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
I turn, stepping back slightly, expecting a passer-by to shove past me and continue, only to come face to face with a man that looks almost exactly like Vincent, only shorter and washed up and definitely not half the man my guy is.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Preston Blake. I’d like to speak to you for a moment if I may?”
Chapter Eleven
I cast a quick eye over my shoulder, just making sure that the receptionist still has her beady eye on me—you can never be too careful in a place like New York. A lot of crazy runs around looking like the type of folks you’d sit next to in church.
“I’m so sorry to bug you like this, Sissy—”
“Miss Bennet.”
Sure it’s rude, and I really don’t like being rude, but if this guy has found me, because sure as hell he’s been following me, I have an idea that this won’t go down too well with Vincent.
He’s not really the sharing type, but I’ve learned that the Blake family are not his cup of tea, and if that’s the case, they’re not mine either.
His eyes round a little before he nods, and I look down to see his hand still sticking out toward me, waiting. I take it reluctantly, shuddering lightly and pulling away when he bends over and plants a dry-mouthed kiss on my skin.
“What do you want, Mr Blake?” I ask, taking another step back.
He sees the move and frowns, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his black suit pants.
“Miss Bennet, I am no danger to you, I promise you that. I just wanted to meet you and make sure you are all right. Vincent can be…somewhat difficult on his women, and I’d hate to see you end up like…”
My mind goes on red alert at those words, and I immediately want to know what the hell he’s hinting at. I am a curious cat, after all, but he stops and shakes his head, as if regretting his words, and gives me a kind, regretful look.
“What the hell do you want?”
Of course I’m curious, but showing Vincent disloyalty right now, especially when I don’t know what Preston Blake’s agenda is, is not in the cards.
“Simply to let you know that you have a friend when you need one, Miss Bennet, and that I am truly not your enemy.”
“Considering I didn’t even know you or anything about you five minutes ago, I really don’t get your point. If this is your messed up way of getting at Vincent, if you think you can use me against him, you’re dead wrong, Mr Blake.”
His shoulders sag before he straightens with a loud huff, and I just manage to stop myself from smiling. Good, be aware that whatever you had in mind isn’t working on me.
I’m curious, and where Vincent is concerned, jealous as all hell, but deep down I know I never have to worry. If he wants things to end he’ll tell me straight and walk away clean, not with some other woman’s scent filling my nose.
“Here’s my card. I know you don’t want it, but soon you will need it, and I’d be honored if you’d come to me when the time comes.”
I take the thing only because he’s holding it out and won’t leave before I do. It ends up at the bottom of my purse, burning a hole, making me feel dirty for some reason.
“Miss Bennet—”
I turn on my heel and walk back inside, not even saying good-bye, just wanting to get away from him before I do something stupid like ask what he’d meant by he’d hate to see me end up like…who?
Bee comes out forty minutes later, her eyes red rimmed and puffy, but I see a real smile on her face for the first time in a long while.
“Come on, Sis, I need to get home and eat whatever slop you’re gonna try feed me next.”
Her teasing manner makes me smile too, and I forget about the asshole, Preston Blake, and take my friend home, looking forward to tonight and Vincent’s next call.
***
I wait up till past midnight before finally going to bed, my shoulders slumped in dejection, a little pissed off and a little irritated at myself. He hasn’t called, so that must mean he’s really busy, and I can’t get a burr up my ass every time he misses a call.
It’s just that I’ve gotten so used to Vincent being solid and steady that it surprises me that he’d break a promise. It’s no big deal, just weird.
“You look like someone killed your kitten,” Bee grumbles the next morning as she takes a seat at the table and eyes this morning’s offering of cheese toast.
I’m following the doctor’s meal plan to the letter, and while it seems weird to feed her so little, he’s assured me it’s all about giving her what her body needs, in portions she can handle.
“Vincent didn’t call last night,” I admit, biting into my own toast. “Hmm, this is actually quite good.”
“Yeah, if you’re looking for a fat, cheesy ass.”
“Hey, I’m not that out of shape that a little cheese will turn me into a cow,” I mutter, giving her a glare. “And you could eat three freaking cows’ worth without worrying.”
“Sorry,” she mutters tiredly. “Eric called my cell all night. I didn’t get much sleep.”
“You answer?”
“No,” she says, scowling, obviously offended. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. It’s just hard. I wanted to hear his voice so bad.”
I know how she feels. At one point last night I’d considered calling Vincent myself but had nixed that idea quickly. If he’d wanted to talk to me he would have called himself, and I refuse to come off as the desperately insecure girlfriend. Even if I’m feeling that way.
“I know, it’s just better this way. A clean break is much better than listening to him whine.”
One of the reasons I’d made her promise this is also because I’m afraid that if he tries hard enough, Bee will crumble and go back to him, full of hope and empty promises.
“I know. I just hate being alone, and…I miss him, as icky as it sounds. He wasn’t all bad, Sis, and no matter what you might think, Eric really does love me.”
Yeah, but not enough not to hurt her or convince her to hurt herself. I don’t say it because, while I’m going hard on her, I know that one day does not cure her of this mental morass she’s gotten herself in.
“I know, Bee,” I say, taking her hand in mine and squeezing softly.
“So he didn’t call you, huh?” she asks, changing the subject as I watch her struggle through breakfast.
“Nope. I waited till after midnight. Maybe the time difference and…” I shrug, not wanting to talk about my hurt. “Something really weird happened yesterday too. His half-brother walked right up to me outside your shrink’s office and started throwing around hints about Vincent not being a good guy.”
“No shit. He go into detail?”
“Nope. But I got the distinct feeling he was testing the waters with me. He gave me a card and said he be there if I ever needed help or something. It was just weird.”
Bee pushes her empty plate away and takes a sip of her juice, regarding me thoughtfully for a few minutes.
“I don’t like this. It sounds like this guy is either trying to use you to stir Vincent’s kettle or there’s something about your guy to be worried about.”
I’ve considered this and tossed the thought. Vincent is a lot of things, but I know he’s no danger to me. He’s in danger for standing me up, but that’s as far as it goes.
“Vincent’s not like that. He can be a dick sometimes, but he’s not into hurting his women. No, this guy was laying the ground work for something else. I was going to tell him last night, but he never called.”
“Just…just be careful, Sis. You’ve seen what a guy can do. I’m a classic case of a woman who’s been mind-fucked. Don’t end up like me because you fall in love with the guy. Please.”
I don’t say anything, just nod and squeeze her hand back. I can’t say I’d never end up like her if…oh God, there’s no if about it, I am totally crazy for Vincent Blake and I know it.
But this I know for sure. If he ever messed with me I’d make him hurt as much as I was. And then I’d turn Daddy and Mama on him. He’d be lucky to walk away from me in one piece.
Chapter Twelve
Five days and ten almost bloody chewed nails later, my phone rings, and I squeal when I see Vincent’s name flash on the screen. I take a deep breath and let it ring three more times before answering. A girl’s gotta keep her pride.
“Hello.”
“I need to see you.”
Wow. And here I’d been expecting his husky drawl and maybe an apology for the last five days without so much as a text.
“Oh really? And here I thought you were done with me after the cold shoulder treatment.”
Okay, so I am pissed off and hurt that he’s been ignoring me. I’m no clinger, but come on, a text wouldn’t have killed him.
“Sissy—”
“You know what? I actually defended you to that slime ball of a brother of yours a few days ago. He was trying to warn me off, and I told him to take a hike. I guess he was right after all; you are an asshole.”
“Dove.”
“If this is the way you conduct your relationships, you can take a hike, buddy. I don’t play mind games. I told you that the first day we met. I like things honest and open. Keep your money and the one landscape I’ve finished—”
The line goes dead, and my heart sinks before cracking down the middle. Huh. That had gone really well, for him, and I laugh, thinking how easy I’d just made whatever break-up speech he’d been about to spin me.
I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t hurt. I’d expected at least a token fight, thanks to his arrogant, possessive nature. I guess he’s just done, though, and happy to be let off the hook so easily.
So much for the six months he’d insisted on.
The tears I feel welling are squelched ruthlessly, and I stand, going up to the eyrie with one intention, getting rid of Vincent. It’s as I’m pulling the first one off the easel that I lose the battle and fall to my knees, allowing the tears to fall and coat my cheeks.
ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5) Page 18
