by Elle Casey
She sags, dropping her shoulders forward and hanging her head. “Please don’t make me tell you.”
“Don’t even try it,” Amber says. “Straighten up and ’fess up, or I’m going to come over there and put you in a headlock.”
She looks up and sticks her tongue out at Amber. “Fine. You really want to know? I’ll tell you. He wanted to sixty-nine me.”
I burst out laughing. “What?” That is not at all what I was expecting to hear.
Amber rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, you are such a prude.”
“I am not a prude. I do all kinds of crazy things in the bedroom; you can ask Sam.”
“No, thank you,” I say, still giggling. “Like you said, some secrets should be left unsaid.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t ask a girl to do sixty-nine with you when you’re sleeping with her for the first time. Sixty-nining is for more mature relationships.”
“If you say so,” I tease. I love my sister so much. She’s especially cute when her hair is sticking out all over the place like it is right now. We’ve totally got her flustered.
“Speak for yourself,” Amber says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Are you saying you’d sixty-nine on the first date?” Emerald demands.
“I think you could if you really wanted to.” She looks over at me. “What do you think?”
“I think that I do not need to picture my sister and Smitty doing that together, if that’s okay with you.”
Amber gets a disgusted look on her face. “Yeah. You have a point there.” She pats Em on the shoulder. “I get it. I understand why there was no second date.”
Em folds her arms over her chest. “Thank you. Thank you for backing me up. Finally.”
We all start giggling, and eventually Em lets go of her defensive stance. “What are we going to do with this mess?”
Amber holds up her hand before I can respond. “I have all the answers if you want to hear them.”
I sit on the bed cross-legged. “By all means. Write the script; I’ll just follow it.” For once I’m glad my sister is so bossy. I really have no idea how to handle any of this, and I would love for her to just tell me what to do so I don’t have to think anymore.
“First of all, we are not going to tell anybody about Smitty. I do think we should tattle on his brother, though, because he’s a little shit and he deserves to go to jail.”
“Maybe we can talk to Smitty about getting his brother some help,” Em says. “Something a little less drastic that might keep them out of trouble.”
Amber waves her hand. “Fine. We can try that first.” She looks at me. “And as far as the daddy issue goes, I say we talk to the band. Let’s see what they want to do. If they want to do DNA tests, fine. We’ll do them. I don’t care at this point, but I’d rather know for sure than go off some genetic specialist’s theory.”
“Me too,” Em says. She looks at me. “And any settlement that I get is half yours anyway.”
“Mine too,” Amber says. “I’m sharing it.” She looks over at Em. “Let’s just put it in one big pool and we’ll divide it by three.”
I shake my head, overwhelmed by their generosity. “You guys can’t do that.”
“Like hell we can’t. It’s our money.” Amber frowns at me. “Don’t be a mule. You know that you’d do the same thing for us.”
She’s right about that. I shrug. “I would.”
“Good. That’s resolved. And finally, here’s how we’re going to deal with Greg,” Amber says, rubbing her hands together. “First, I’m going to put itching powder in his underwear . . .”
“Are we getting our revenge schemes from Mad magazine now?” Em asks.
“Shush, I was just getting started . . .”
I raise my hands to stop both of them. “Can you just leave the Greg thing to me? I think that would be a better idea.”
Amber looks at me with her eyebrows raised. “Are you going to make him pay for what he did? Because if you’re not, I’m going to have to take over.”
“I’m going to handle things in a diplomatic and responsible way so that there aren’t any hard feelings between him and the band. He does a good job for them, and I know you respect him; I don’t want to cause problems with any of that.”
Amber thinks it over for a few seconds and nods. “I could live with that. And if some itching powder happens to make its way into his underwear after, well, that’s how life goes sometimes.”
I have to laugh at her persistence and loyalty. I wouldn’t change Amber or Emerald for the world. They are my world.
Em holds her arms out. “How about a hug?”
Amber and I move into her embrace without stopping and our heads accidentally clunk together. We giggle as we rub our foreheads.
“Thank you for pulling me out of my funk,” I say, exhausted but relieved.
“That’s what sisters are for,” says Em.
“Yeah. And I really miss seeing your face at the table,” Amber says.
“Speaking of dinner, I’m kinda starving,” I say. My appetite comes back with a vengeance as I imagine the dining room table and all my family sitting around it.
“I think dinner is going to be on the table in about an hour,” Amber says, pulling away to look at her watch.
It gives me just enough time to call Greg at his office. I step back from my sisters and look around the room. “I need to hop in the shower and get dressed. See you guys down there?”
They make their way to the door. Em goes out first and Amber follows. She stops just before she shuts the door and looks straight at me. “Don’t put up with any of his shit,” she says.
“Whose shit?”
“Greg’s. I know you’re going to call him as soon as I close this door. Don’t let him get away with anything. He’s a good guy, but sometimes he puts his head super far up his ass, and you have to pull it out for him.” She shrugs. “Head-from-ass-removal is part of my official job description, so I should know.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I grin at her silliness.
She winks at me. “Anytime.”
When she’s gone, I move over to the telephone extension in my room and pick it up. I don’t know his number, but I can certainly find it by calling directory assistance. My heart starts beating wildly and I feel sick to my stomach. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The phone rings several times before it’s picked up at his extension. “This is Greg Lister.”
All I can do is breathe. I can’t talk and I can’t hang up. Just hearing his voice stuns me.
“This is Lister.”
I can’t talk! What’s wrong with me? I’m the creepy stalker. I’m just like Smitty’s brother. I know it was him on the line all those times.
“Rose?”
Hearing my name breaks me out of my trance. “Yes. It’s me.”
His voice softens. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.” It feels good to admit it, but at the same time, it’s scary. My admission that I’m not Superwoman with a heart of steel makes me vulnerable.
“I can imagine.”
The conversation dies. I don’t know what to say. If I were Amber, I’d start yelling at him, but I’m not her.
“How is your family?” he asks.
“They’re fine.”
This could not be any more awkward than it is. I don’t know why I called him. I should’ve just let sleeping dogs lie. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over. I just need to keep drumming that into my head until I believe and accept it.
“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m really sorry.”
I start to cry silently. This is the official end of the relationship, and he’s apologizing. Where were his regrets weeks ago? Why couldn’t he have told me the truth back then? “It’s okay. Shit happens, right?”
“I don’t know.” He sounds sad. “It doesn’t have to happen, does it?”
“What do you mean?”
His v
oice turns angry. “I didn’t have to say anything. I could’ve just kept my damn mouth shut and let things play out.”
I can’t tell who he’s angry at—himself, the band, Darrell, or me. “About what? About me? Darrell?”
“Yes, about Darrell. I could have just let things play out with him. I should have.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” The reality sinks in. He’s telling me he had a choice, but I know he didn’t. I’m seeing as clearly now as he was the night he told me. “You did the right thing.”
“No, I didn’t. I hurt you. I hurt you very badly.”
“You did, but not for the reasons you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think you hurt me because you told me something I didn’t want to hear: that I wasn’t going to get a settlement.”
“That, yes, but also because I told you who your father is, which was something you wanted to find out on your own terms. You didn’t want some asshole blurting it out in the middle of what was already a horrible moment for you.”
I like that he’s calling himself an asshole now. It makes it easier to have the rest of the conversation, because we at least agree on one point. “That wasn’t so great either, you’re right, but that’s not what hurts me now.” As I’m explaining this to him, I’m finally understanding it for myself.
“I think I know what you’re saying.” He’s back to being sad again.
“Why don’t you tell me what it is, then, if you know.” Maybe his explanation will help clarify it for me.
“The first time I met you, you talked about how honesty was important to you. You said I needed to be honest about everything.”
“That’s true.”
“And I wasn’t being honest with you. There were things that I wasn’t telling you. Things that were relevant to different conversations we had. I kept those things to myself rather than sharing them with you.”
“Yes, you did.” My heart feels like it has a cramp in it.
“I’ve been a lawyer for a long time now, and I’ve never had a problem with my morals or my ethics. The direction I should take when a conflict arises has always been very clear and straightforward for me. I don’t share my clients’ secrets, and I don’t give out information where it’s not needed. I have this very strict line that I follow all the time.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do. My interactions with you never fit the program.”
“What you mean?”
“There was no bright line with you. Not for me, anyway. There were things I felt you should know, but I knew I couldn’t tell you or I shouldn’t tell you what they were. And then I did. I feel terrible about it. I’ve never felt even the slightest twinge of regret about any decision I’ve made in my career, outside of this one.” He sighs loudly, and I can picture him running his hands through his hair. “Things are the way they are, and me being a lawyer isn’t going to change that, but I didn’t want to be the one delivering that news to you. I didn’t want to be the one bringing you pain. The other night, the last night we were together, was the worst day of my career. Maybe of my whole life. I didn’t want to be a lawyer in that moment.”
“But you were.”
“Yes, I was. And it almost makes me wish I had never had Red Hot as a client. Then I could’ve avoided doing that to you.”
“But then you would’ve had a completely different career. You would have missed out on all the fun of working with them.”
“Fun?” He laughs bitterly. “I don’t know if I’d characterize my work with them as fun, but I understand what you’re saying.” There’s a long silence before he speaks again. “What are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“About the settlement.”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I can’t believe you’re asking me about that again.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not asking you as a lawyer now; I’m asking you as a guy who cares about you.”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
“Do you want some advice?”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
“Legal advice?”
“No. I can’t give you legal advice, but I can give you advice from a friend.”
“Is that what we are now? Friends?”
“I’d love to have more than that with you, but I can’t imagine that you do.”
I start to answer, but then I don’t. The angry words that leap to mind won’t come out of my mouth. He said something that was painful to hear, but was he being heartless? Was he being cruel? No. He may have been careless, but he was also doing his job. He was stuck in the middle and he tried to minimize the damage to my family. How can I hate him for that?
“I miss you,” I say, risking the words and the heartache that goes with them.
“I miss you too. A lot. I had such a great time with you and such high hopes for a potential future together.”
“What future?” I ask, sad that even if we find some sort of common ground, we’re still miles and miles apart. “There is no future for us. I think we both knew that, and we just reached the logical conclusion faster than we expected.”
His voice picks up tempo. “No, I didn’t know that. I knew it would be an uphill climb, but I didn’t know it was doomed from the start. I had hope.”
“Not very realistic hope.”
“Who’s to say what’s realistic and what’s not? The universe throws people into our paths that we never expected to meet, we’re given opportunities that we never thought would come our way. Life takes twists and turns that we never see coming. I think anything is possible.”
“You and my sister Emerald,” I say, echoes of her voice whispering in my mind.
“Do you think there’s any chance in the world that you’d want to see me again?” he asks.
I feel like crying again, but this time it’s not entirely because of sadness. “Of course. I want to see you right now, but that’s not the problem.”
“What’s the problem, then? Please let me try to solve it.”
“I don’t know if you can.” I’m afraid to hope. Afraid to believe he’s as dedicated and serious as he sounds.
“I can’t if you don’t tell me what it is.”
“I know that if it’s a question of choosing between the band and me, you’re going to choose the band. They’re your clients, and they’re owed your first loyalty; I understand that. My family is so precious to me, and what we have going on here right now is really delicate, with the band and our mothers figuring out what their relationships are, and my sisters taking their settlements . . . I couldn’t handle going through the heartache I’ve been suffering a second time, but I know if push comes to shove, and you’re forced to choose between them and me, you’ll reveal what you know about Darrell and our shared genetics or whatever to the band. And that could destroy everything we’ve been working to rebuild. I just don’t see how this can be resolved, because eventually, if you’re here all the time walking the line between lover and lawyer, the secrets will come out.”
There’s a long silence before he answers. “Would you let me work on it? Would you let me try to come up with a solution?”
“I guess. But I think you’re dealing with something that’s pretty impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible. You need to believe your sister and me.”
I smile. A tiny flicker of hope comes to light inside my heart. “You are pretty smart people.”
I can hear a smile in his voice when he answers. “We are, that’s true. Especially your sister.”
“How is Tinkerbell doing?” I ask, hoping the change of conversation will help me breathe better.
“Are we done talking about you and me?” he asks, impressing me with his tenacity. Any other man I know would have jumped on the opportunity to move on.
“I think so. It just really hurts me to think about not being with you anymore, so I’d rather not talk about it now.”
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“I understand. Tinkerbell is doing great, thanks to you.”
“I’m happy to hear that. She’s a sweet dog.”
“She really misses Banana and Oscar Mayer, though.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“Because I have pictures of them on my phone, and whenever she starts whining at me, I show her the pictures and she sits down and wags her tail.”
“You show her pictures? That’s so cute.”
“Yes. And I have a couple of you on here that I stare at and wag my tail over, too.”
I stifle a giggle at that image. “When did you get pictures of me?”
“I didn’t take them; your sister sent them to me.”
“My sister? Which one?”
“Amber . . . who else?” He says it like he’s annoyed.
“What’s she doing sending you pictures of me?”
“Oh, believe me, it hasn’t stopped since I left.”
“Are you serious?” I don’t know whether to be mad or embarrassed. I think I’m both.
“Here, I’ll read you her latest email.” I hear some clicking on his computer and then he starts to recite her letter:
“Dear Greg. Would you please get your head out of your ass? Today would be great if you could manage it. My sister is crying and miserable, all because of you. You are a dick if you don’t fix this. Here is a picture of the girl who I know you love. Now get your ass out here and fix this. Love, Amber. PS: Seriously, you are a dick if you don’t fix this.”
“Oh my god. I am very sorry.” My ears are so hot they feel like they’re about to burst into flames.
He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. This is classic Amber.”
“No wonder you hate working with her.” I can’t believe she’s so unprofessional.
“Truth be told,” he lowers his voice, “I actually like working with her. But don’t ever tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me forget it.”
Hearing him say this makes my heart soar. How can I possibly hold on to hurt feelings for a guy who puts up with my sister like such a champ? “I can’t believe you. Just when I think you can’t surprise me again, you do.”
“What? You believed her when she said I was a stick-in-the-mud?”
