Beyond Layers: Layer Series Book Four (Layers Series 4) (16 page)

George follows my gaze. “I don’t know Logan but I do know his best friend Matt and his wife, Allie; they’re great. So, I’m sure Logan’s a good guy.”

I nod.

“With that said, he’s an ass for seating you here.”

“Yes, he is.”

“They followed him from Raleigh.”

“Who? The Tweedles?”

“Yeah.”

“They moved to New York because he did?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it. Don’t they have… lives?”

“Apparently not.”

“Were they… close?”

“You mean did he fuck them?”

I nod.

“I would think so. They did follow him from Raleigh.”

“Holy crapoly.”

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s just my guess.”

“I knew he was a player but… he has a bunny caravan. Hopping gypsies.”

George giggles.

I frown.

She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Sam, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I don’t have a clue about Logan’s sex life, or even his life.”

“Apparently, neither do I.”

“I’m really sorry, Sam.”

“Don’t be, George. I appreciate your honesty.” I look at the other two girls in the row. “What about those two?” I nod over my right shoulder.

“I don’t know them. They must be new.”

New Juliets? Holy crap!

The fans get all riled up and I look up at the action. I watch Logan skate down the middle of the ice and pass the puck to his left. He skates closer to the net and the player passes it back. Then he performs some kind of fake-out pass and the goalie lunges in the wrong direction, leaving the net unguarded, and Logan taps the puck in behind him. The crowd goes wild and I can’t help but stand and join them.

“That was awesome,” George says.

“Yeah, it was.”

We sit down and she sighs. “He’s a major hottie.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Sam.” I look up as Shawna makes her way down the aisle toward us.

Now what?

When she reaches us, she hands me an envelope. “Sorry, I forgot to give you this. Logan gave it to me before the game. He told me to give it to you when you picked up your pass.”

I take it. “Thanks.”

She nods and leaves.

I open it and read the note.

Angel,

I’m so happy you came. I hope you enjoy the game. I’m so excited to see you; I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep my eyes on the biscuit and my blades on the ice.

Enclosed is my room key. Waldorf. Room 312. See you there shortly after the game.

xo Logan

What the hell happened to dinner? If I didn’t come to the game, would he be sending his room key to the Tweedles or the new Juliets?

I bite my lip in an effort to abate tears. I have no right to be upset. It’s not that I don’t want to meet him in his hotel room. I do, I really do. I’ve missed him like crazy. It’s just that I’m sitting in his balcony with his hopping hockey whores and it makes me feel like crap, makes me feel… common.

“Is everything all right?” George asks.

I fold the note and put it in my pocket. “Everything is fine,” I lie.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I slide my jacket on.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes, after I talk to the Tweedles.”

Her brow wrinkles. “Why?”

“Because I’m not common.”

“I don’t understand?”

I flash her the room key.

“Oh.” She grins. “You bitch.”

“My bad.”

“It was nice to meet you, Sam. I was going to say see you around, but I’m not sure I will.”

I hold out my hand and she shakes it. “It was great to meet you, George.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Have fun.”

As I make my way down the aisle toward the Tweedles, a crazy idea pops into my devious brain, making me smile. I spent a couple of months in the south and fell in love with Southern words and phrases. But unfortunately, I didn’t inherit my mother’s photographic memory. So, if I go with this plan, I’ll be pulling words and phrases out of my brain like an unlucky hat. It truly is a stupid plan, but I’m hurt and mad. Damn if I’m going to make it easy for them. If they want Logan, they’ll have to earn it. So, here goes nothin’.

I pull a stick of gum out of jacket pocket, put it in my mouth, and sit down next to them. Between the three of them, they have on enough makeup and perfume to start their own factories.

“Howdy, y’all,” I say, twisting my long hair and chewing my gum.

They look at me as if I’m a crazy Southern homeless religious fanatic, about to take their makeup away and damn them to Antarctica.

“Got myself a note.” I raise a brow for dramatics. “Secret note from Mr. Romano. Dang girl at the Will Call gave it to me.”

“What did it say?” asks the woman in the middle. She must be the leader. I say this because she has the biggest hair and the longest gels.

“None of your damn business, until y’all tell me your names?”

“What? Why?” biggest hair asks.

“Have to make sure it’s goin’ to the right girls.”

Biggest hair says, “I’m Shelly.” She gestures to her right. “This is Melody.” She gestures to her left. “This is Sue Ellen.”

I shake my head. “For crying out loud. If that don’t beat all. Same three names on the dang note.”

“Can I see the note?” Sue Ellen asks.

“Y’all from up in Carolina, Raleigh, ain’t that right?”

“Yeah, so what?” Shelly says.

“Being a Southern gal myself, from an itty-bitty town in Georgia—Slutterville. Y’all heard of it?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand damn word you’re sayin’. We couldn’t care less where you are from,” Melody says.

“Well, dang girl. Looky here. Y’all don’t need to pitch a hissy. If y’all are goin’ to be like that, forget about it.” I sit back in my seat and fold my arms, adding what I hope is a Southern look of one offended.

Shelly hits her on the side of her big-haired head. “Shut up, you stupid bitch.” She looks at me. “Melody’s a bit high…um, falutin’. She’s sorry, Miss…?

“Miss Samantha. High-falutin’, she is not.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Samantha. She’s awfully sorry.”

“Did a cat catch her tongue?”

“What?”

“Can’t she speak?”

Shelly hits her again. “Apologize, you idiot. Or she won’t tell us what the note said.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Samantha.”

I nod.

Sue Ellen reaches over, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Would you please tell us about the note? Logan is special to us, ya see.”

How special?
“All right, I’ll tell ya. Seeing as Mr. Romano is special to y’all. I’d show ya but I tore it up.”

“What?” they all say.

I lean closer to them. “The thing is, I didn’t understand the meaning of it.” I raise my brow a couple of times. “Asked the nice lady, Miss Georgia, over there.” I gesture over my shoulder.

They look at George.

She smiles and waves.

“Okay, so what did it say?” Shelly asks.

I flush, fanning myself. “Well... Mr. Romano said he’d like y’all to meet up in his hotel room, after the game.”

They lick their lips in unison as if they’d practiced it.

“Do y’all do the synchronized swimmin’ thing?”

“What?” they ask in unison.

I shake my head. “Forget it.”

“What else did it say?” Melody asks with an impatient bite.

I hold up my hands. “Don’t have a conniption! Just doin’ my best to inform y’all.” I shake my hands. “Dang! Well now I need to get me a beer.” I get up to leave and Sally latches onto my hand, pulling me back down to my seat.

“Don’t leave; we’ll buy you a beer. Look, I’m sorry about Melody. She’s a bit impatient. Ya see, Miss Samantha, she’s done got it real bad-like for Logan.”

Now it’s
Logan.
How bad-like?
“All right then. I’ll get down to the…”

“Nitty-gritty,” Sue Ellen says.

I nod. “I asked the nice Miss Georgia what the note was saying, what it meant. I thought I knew the word but I needed to verify it, ya see. Now don’t be goin’ all plumb crazy on me. I’m not judgin’ y’all. Just not my cup a tea is all.”

“What the fuck?” Melody says.

I cover my ears. “Lord have mercy. Big Mama would roll on over in her grave! To her right, seein-how she broke her left hip. So she won’t be rollin’ to her left.”

They look as if they’re ready to murder, and then hang me. So I best get on with it. “Note said somethin’ about a ‘hook-up,’ I’m thinkin’ that was the word.”

“Get on with it,” Sue Ellen says, near shouting.

“Well dang. If y’all gonna holler, I won’t tell ya. I’ll just be on my way.

“Please,” Sue Ellen begs me. “Logan is so awfully special to us. Do you understand?”

“Like a brother ya mean?”

Melody bites her lip, looking as if she’d like to shoot me.

“Yes, like a brother,” Sue Ellen says.

“If y’all promise on your mamas’ graves not to freak, I’ll tell ya.”

“We promise,” they say.

“On?”

A bead of sweat runs down the side of Shelly’s face. She’s clearly losing it. I best reel the conversation in.

“We promise on our mamas’ graves,” they say, again, in unison.

“All right, I tell ya then. Said he’d like y’all to meet up at the Waldorf. Room 312. It went on a spell, said somethin’ about a
quadsome
?”

“A
quadsome?
” Sue Ellen asks.

Shelly slaps the side of her big-hair head. It’s damn near flat. “A foursome, you idiot.”

Sue Ellen smiles. “Really?”

I nod and dig the key card out of my jeans pocket and hand it to Melody.

“Did it say what time we should be over there?”

“No, ma’am. But if I were participatin’ in such an affair, which I would never, ever,
ever
do.” I pause for a dramatic shiver. “I’d be gettin’ on over there real quick.”

They stand and put on their coats. Melody and Shelly wave as they walk down the aisle. Sue Ellen stops midway down the aisle and looks back at me. “Thanks, Miss Samantha.”

“Good luck to ya, Miss Sue Ellen. Make sure ya order up supper for y’all, and some of that high-falutin champagne, of course.”

“Of course,” she says and waves.

George comes over and sits next to me. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe you did that.” We knuckle bump.

I stand. “Once again, George. It was wonderful to meet you.”

She salutes me. “It’s been a pleasure.”

I make my way out of the arena. As I send a text to my driver to meet me at the main entrance, I spy the Tweedles coming out of the restroom, giggling like horny idiots. Do I feel bad for what I’ve just done? Y’all know that answer. Not even one itty-bitty bit. Logan Romeo Romano can kiss my high-falutin ice-hole.

“L
ogan will you stop dragging your feet and help me find our table,” Allie huffs.

“I can’t believe you made me come with you.”

“Matt has a cold and there’s no way in hell I’d miss this dinner.”

“What’s so special about this dinner anyway? And what’s up will all the security? ID check, full-body scan, no pictures, no recordings, blah, blah, blah. Little overkill don’t you think?”

Allie and I reach the banquet room and step inside.

We freeze as our mouths gape.

“Wow,” we say simultaneously.

“Now do you get it?”