She shakes her head, still laughing. “He said you would do this.”
“Who said? Do what? Stop playing with me.” I growl, growing increasingly annoyed at how things are turning out.
“Dean Hamm,” she says, crossing her arms over her thickly-wrapped chest.
“He said you would try to use me as a distraction. He said you were going to try to recruit me as one of your little flunkies. Joke’s on you, big guy. I’ve never fallen prey to peer pressure, not even once. So shut the hell up and get me a change of clothes, I’m going home.”
I frown. “When did he say that? I was in the room with you the whole time.”
“He texted me,” she says nonchalantly, “gave me a whole lot of info on you. You’ve been running that poor man ragged, haven’t you?”
Warning bells go off in my head and I grab her by the shoulders. “Where is your phone?”
“Let go of me! What is your problem?”
“Your phone, damn it, where is your phone?”
She shakes me off and tosses the towel over her shoulder making it flop ridiculously askew. She rolls her eyes as she strikes a haughty pose. I want to shake her.
I want to shake her so damn bad.
“It’s outside with the rest of my things. Why does it matter?”
“Paper trail, you idiot!”
I run for the door, panicking as if someone would have scaled the building just to get their hands on this incriminating information. I snatch her damp bundle of belongings up and rifle through them as I go back into the house. Where would a girl like that keep her phone? I shove loose notes and crumpled dollars aside, then snatch my hand back. Her purse is well-guarded by a militant layer of sealed tampons. Gross.
“Give me that!” She snatches her backpack and purse out of my hands as I enter the flat, letting her work uniform fall in a sad, wet heap on the carpet. I kick it aside.
“Show me the texts.”
“Why should I?” She slides her phone out of an outer pocket and checks to see if I had managed to unlock it.
“Because if the two of you said anything at all about the deal, we’ll all be arrested the second we apply for that marriage license.”
“I didn’t think getting arrested bothered you.”
I want to wipe the smug look right off her face. “It does, if it means deportation, you absolute witch. Show me the damn message!”
I’m losing control of my tone and I can see in her face that she’s somehow pleased about that. I don’t like the curious look in her eye. It is none of her damn business, nothing about my life is.
Except for the parts which explicitly are her business, of course. I wish we could have contractually outlined those bits on paper, but that was out of the question.
“All right, all right, keep your pants on.” She sets her bags down and unlocks her phone, then a deep look of worry finds its way into her brows.
“Oh my gosh.”
“What? Is it immigration? Hamm? What happened?” I reach for her phone, but she jerks it away from me.
“I swear to God, Maverick if you don’t calm the hell down, I’m walking out of here and I’m not coming back.”
I take a deep breath through my nose, but it doesn’t help. I’m fully panicking and she isn’t helping a whit.
“It’s my dad,” she says. “I have five missed calls.”
She goes pale and turns wide eyes up at me.
“What’s the problem?”
“I need to call him back.”
“Show me the texts first.”
“Shut the fuck up Maverick.”
7
My mind races as the phone rings. I can feel a latent pulsing in my wrists and my palms getting sweaty. I was hoping to not talk to them until after all this madness had been made legal and there was no turning back. Did he somehow figure out what I was up to? I can’t bear the thought of having to explain to my dad that he’s being robbed of the opportunity to walk me down the aisle for my first marriage.
There will certainly be another because Mr. Warm and Fuzzy seething before me is definitely not it for me.
“Beth?” his usually calm and soothing voice is rugged and laced with panic.
“Dad? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been trying to reach you. Where are you?” He is frantic and I can feel wild geese flopping around in my chest.
Did something happen to mom?
“I’m downtown?” I’m not lying but there’s so much missing from that response I might as well be.
“Your work called. You’re over an hour late. You’re never late for anything. They called to find out if you’re okay and I saw John right after, and he told me that he passed a car accident on the road and a young girl was there who looked just like you.”
Oh no. Poor Dad.
“Umm... I’m okay daddy, I promise.”
Maverick is tapping his feet with his arms folded before me and I find myself wondering if he’s crazy enough to yank the phone out of my hand and hang up on my father. I eye him suspiciously before moving away to find some privacy, but he’s tailing me like a spoiled puppy.
“I’m not going in today.”
“Or any other day.” I hear Maverick grunt and I spin around with a finger on my lips silently scolding him. He rolls his eyes and flops down on the plush sofa across from me, watching me keenly.
“Who was that?”
“Just somebody passing by.” That was definitely a lie.
I’ve never lied to my parents before and I resent the fact that Maverick is the reason I just lied to the most consistent man in my life.
“Why aren’t you going in?”
I take a deep, steadying breath. There’s a seagull on an ocean screaming in my head as I try to figure out just how much truth to tell. I decide honesty by omission will have to do it. “Dad, I’ll explain later. I promise I’m okay. I just need you to trust me. I’ll see you guys later, okay.” My voice breaks on the last sentence, betraying my guilt and I know he senses it when he draws in a deep ragged breath.
He must have been so worried.
“Okay sweetie. You’ll explain yourself later. I’ll see you when I get home.”
“Yes sir. Bye daddy.”
“Bye pumpkin. I love you.”
The sharp sting of tears behind my eyes catches me by surprise and I try to keep myself from ruining my cell phone with my tears.
“I love you too dad. See you later.”
When I hang up, I walk over to the sofa and flop down across from Maverick who is staring at me in disgust.
“What’s your problem?” I ask defensively.
“Phone. Texts. NOW.”
“Do not raise your voice at me, Maverick,” I snap, my already rancid mood soured by my dishonesty. “I’ve had just about enough of that from you today.” I toss the phone to him and watch him scroll through what I hope are the messages from Hamm.
There’s nothing overly personal on there anyway so it really doesn’t matter. I watch as his face goes from relief to irritation.
“Don’t you have anything exciting on here? Jesus, you’re about as interesting as a bag of nails.”
“We’re not all wild and reckless. Some of us actually have something to live for.”