Hanging on (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2) (23 page)

I got him out of his drag costume and let him by. He immediately went to pee in the nearest bush.

I hopped we didn’t try to make him drink beer.

I walked around to the front door of the Big House. The air was doing me good, and Fred needed to stretch his legs. Upon walking into the lounge I saw the place littered with Fire and Ice roses. My favorite kind. There must have been twelve dozen spread around in beautiful vases.

Gladis looked up from her knitting needles as I came in. “What did he do?”

“These are from William?”

“Of course. You didn’t think these would be from an admirer did you? You gals aren’t that good!” Gladis’s eyes twinkled.

Lady walked up stiff backed and handed me a Bloody Mary.

“Lady, you are a gem.”

“You shouldn’t have kept Gladis out so late,” she muttered.

“Oh Lady, hush!” Gladis waved her hand in the air.

“Gladis, you didn’t stay the whole time, did you?” I asked, astonished.

“You girls are a hoot! I even had a couple beers. Good thing I was there, too, or this place would have been littered with naked girls. Though the cooks won’t forgive me anytime soon.”

“Oh Gladis, I am so sorry! You should have told us to go to bed. I am sorry we kept you up!”

“Nonsense! It was fun. It was like I was young again! Without the effects of the next morning, of course.”

I moaned.

Lump stumbled in with an oversized shirt on and make-up all over her face.

“Lump, you look rough,” I remarked.

She looked at me out of one eye. “I feel rougher. You look hideous.”

Lump accepted a Bloody Mary with a groan.

Flem and Claire stumbled out next, followed slowly by Jane. I now knew what I must look like. The fifth musketeer to this lot.

“I need the cure,” Claire croaked.

“Bloody Mary or beer?” I asked.

“Bloody Mary. I’ve got used to them at this stage.”

Lady was right on cue.

Flem took hers and said, “Gladis, give that woman a raise. She is a Godsend!”

Gladis laughed. “There is breakfast out. Help yourselves. Plenty of grease to coat your stomachs.”

We all started to move.

“Jessica, can I talk to you a second?” Gladis asked pleasantly.

Crap. Here we go. Time to get kicked out.

“I notice there is no sign of William. I also notice all these beautiful roses. What did that boy do to you?”

I sighed, “It wasn’t as bad as this makes it seem. He left me at the club. Drove off in the limo without me then had to come back for me.”

She
tsked
. “Not that bad? Denise would wring that boy’s neck! You were right to put your foot down. Make sure he knows that when he messes up you won’t just take it in stride. Teach him a lesson now, or he’ll never learn!”

I wasn’t in the mood for relationship retribution, but Gladis had a point. A lot of bad things could have happened last night with me standing in a parking lot in next to nothing. Especially since the guys that caused the fight could have easily been roaming around. I didn’t have to have the past experience with Dusty to teach me that lesson.

“Now,” Gladis continued, “he’s made the first move with the flowers. A very good move. He must have been very sorry. That’s good. He really is a good boy. He just forgets himself some of the time. But he should never forget
you
!”

“This isn’t a good enough apology?” I gestured at all the flowers.

“Oh no! Honey, you are in the money ring now. A poor boy getting you all these flowers—absolutely forgive him. This might be a month’s wages. A boy with means? Oh no, no. This is just a half a thought to him. Nothing.”

I nodded and took a swig of my drink, grimacing when I tasted the vodka. Gladis was plotting this out like a war, and I was happy to let her do all the work.

She looked me over. “Look at you.” She said with a smile. “A love sick little lamb. This is for the best, though. Trust me. Handle it correctly now, and you won’t have to handle it near as often in the future when it is much more important!”

We discussed the situation for a while, and decided that I would keep my date with him and Adam and whoever else that evening, but wouldn’t call him or return his calls all day. I would show up and give him the cold shoulder. I would gradually break down little by little until I let him apologize. I would then be reluctant, but forgiving. Then make up sex.

I added the last bit, but you know Gladis was thinking it!

As the evening came, everyone was in my cottage getting ready. Tonight, however, there was much less zeal. Everyone couldn’t believe all the flowers I got, but agreed that Gladis was probably right. Anyone married that long was probably always right.

Ami had called and said she was really, really sorry, but she couldn’t get in until Sunday morning. She was able to stay through Monday night, though, so that was some consolation.

It was a jeans night tonight. I wore my new ones, which seriously looked good. We all switched around tops like we did the night before because some that were old to us were new to others, and visa versa. We had flats or runners or boots on tonight so walking would be easier. Not so high fashion, either, but in this state of hangover, who gave a shit? We wouldn’t be able to pull it off if we tried.

William had called a couple times in the morning but must have realized I wasn’t going to talk to him and stopped. He text that he was sorry, and that he hoped I would be going tonight. I also saw that with each dozen roses there was a different love poem. Very sweet, and Gladis said he must have looked each one up, so he definitely got points for that. I was able to break down a little faster than Gladis originally said.

The business of fighting was a business indeed. I wasn’t even mad anymore—more love sick. But I understood that it was important to set precedence so the behavior wasn’t repeated, so I would have to stick this out like Gladis said. After all, he would do the same thing to me, Gladis was sure of it.

We girls arrived at the bar in absolute misery! What happened to the days when we could drink all night, wake up tired but alive, and head out the next day? Early twenties rocked for that! We weren't even thirty and hangovers were already getting worse.

We walked into the bar with a sort of zombie shuffle. I was filled with trepidation about William, but was more concerned with my raging headache and slightly queasy stomach. The bar was about a quarter filled, which was great for low noise volume. It was a good sized place with a long bar to the right of the door, and a bunch of tables and booths spread out. There was a small dance floor and a juke box off to the side. No room for bands unless there was something I wasn't seeing. Which was good news, because a noisy country band would be torture I was not up for.

I saw William in the corner dressed casual with extremely flattering clothes. His muscles were not bare, but were certainly not hidden. It looked like he was trying to get laid. If I didn't already know it was for me, I would have been nervous at the competition. As it was I was extremely turned on. Which was his intention.

He was fighting a war of his own.

"Do I look as good as William does?" I asked quietly, leading the way to the bar.

Everyone was a pro in this group; no one had to turn and look, and if they did, they were subtle enough not to be noticed.

"Could you possibly ever look that good?" Flem asked.

"Not helping Flem. Your stupid ass left me last night, too."

"Yeah, but you always do that to me, so I claim tit-for-tat."

True
.

"Okay, well then let me rephrase. Do I look good for me?"

"You look hot, yes. Many a man would want to take you home. And those jeans make your butt and legs look amazing. Cleavage is not all bad, either, but you could stand to adjust a titch," Jane said, ever helpful.

I secretly adjusted the cleavage, which meant William's table couldn't see, but the bartender got some eye candy. And judging by the ogle, he took a good look.

Since he was focused on us anyway, we ordered beers. I threw out money for the round and leaned heavily on the bar. I still wasn’t confident I could swallow a beer without immediately throwing it back up.

The bartender came back and shook his head at the money. "You’re Jessica, right?"

I nodded in confusion.

"Yeah, you n' your friends don't pay. I was told there would be one more."

"Uh...she couldn't come. And I will pay for this round, thanks."

He shook his head again. "Nope, you don't pay tonight. You pay, I get a shitty tip. So, you don't pay. Sorry darlin."

That was irritating. He was the only bartender on duty, too. I looked at the girls. They looked back. No one had any ideas. Flem shrugged and took her beer. Claire followed suit.

I was so frustrated I wanted to cry. He was getting the upper hand; forcing me to use his generosity. What would Gladis do?

I took the beers from the girls and put them back on the bar.

"No. We'll leave," I said sternly to the bartender.

I would get my way tonight, damn it!

"What would you get if we left?” I continued, trying to convince the skeptical bartender. “All those boys would follow us, right? So you would get no tip. Not less—none at all. But if we stay, we'll keep people in this bar—at least the boys. Then the girls will stay for the boys. You'll make out better."

He looked at me with a contemplative face. I pushed my advantage. "Five single ladies looking good? We'll keep people here, and that will generate tips. More people means more money in your pocket. That guy at the far table tips you less, which is probably just an unfounded threat, and I'll make up the difference, alright? I’ll settle it with you."

"What if they leave?" He asked.

"They're not leaving if we're not leaving. They
will
leave, though, if we do. Tonight they are trying to impress us. Well, the one is trying to impress me. He'll go where I go."

I was losing my patience. I put on my management voice. Newly learned, but damned useful. "Look, take my money and just sell us the beer, okay? Maybe later we won't ask, but at least this round, sell the damn beer. Please."

He finally shrugged his fat shoulders and took the money.

Jane whispered, "Willie is looking this way. He looks mad. No...wait. He’s smirking. He just shook his head and said something to Adam. Lump, you have a better vantage, take watch. They'll see me looking."

"Adam is looking over here,” Lump started in. “He looks hot tonight. Wish he wasn't such a pompous woman-hating asshole, I might like to get him naked."

“You can have him. Last night reminded me that I’m over men from this part of the world,” Flem said, holding her head like I had earlier.

"Focus girls," I whispered.

"Right.” Lump nodded, back on track. “Adam and Willie are talking to the others. Willie glanced up here again. He looks like a lost puppy. Like a kid that got his big red ball stolen."

"Yeah, he is known to pout, too. Don't let him weaken you. Stay strong." I was whispering that more to myself then to Lump. I hated being mad at him. I wanted him to tell me he knew how much he hurt me and hold me to make it better.

I was turning into a sap.

"Okay, he has turned back. Now what?"

"I don't know. What should we do?"

Flem sighed. "Look, I don't care what we do, as long as I can sit down."

"Let's go over," said Jane.

I nodded. We picked up the conversation of what we remembered after the bar last night and immediately were laughing at ourselves and each other. I noticed that there were five guys at the table. Evenly matched. I wondered if that was planned. And who called dips on who...

When we reached them three of the five guys stood up. Lump backed up and brought Flem with her. Jane looked at them all with wide eyes. Claire was looking out the window.

"They are being polite.” I sighed. “They are standing until we sit down—like in westerns.”

"Such a strange place," Lump said, smiling at everyone. They all grinned or smiled back.

The guys all moved around so they were sitting on one side, allowing the girls to take the other, except for Brad, who happily stayed where he was so Jane could crawl in next to him. Which meant… I took a deep breath and sat in the seat next to William. He, of course, not only looked good enough to eat, but he smelled better. My mouth was watering and my loins burning.

I showed none of this, however. At least, I hoped I didn't.

He smiled warmly as I sat down. I wasn't sure what the fighting war book would say to do, so I looked at him with a blank face, felt sad I couldn't smile back, and looked away. I heard him sigh and saw him start to peel the label of his beer out of the corner of my eye.

Moose and Ty were here sans their girlfriends, which was odd. Adam and Brad were single, but Brad had eyes (and hands) only for Jane, and Adam would lay down in traffic before he would lay a romantic finger on me. Which meant William was covering all his bases. He was good. Irritatingly so.

"Where are all the girlfriends?" I asked lightly.

Moose looked quickly at William, who looked at Ty. I rolled my eyes and looked at Lump. A ghost of a smile graced her face before she added, "Yeah. Why no single guys besides Adam? What are we going to do for fun?"

She said this in such a way as to leave no doubt that Adam was the furthest from anyone she would be having fun with. She did sit next to him, though. I had a feeling she would be taunting him all night, trying to get him interested so she could turn him down. I wondered if he would fall for it. She was fighting her own battle, but damned if I knew what it was about.

“I’m single.” Brad raised one hand, the other rubbing Jane's leg.

They were
so
going to make out later.

“You don’t count,” Lump said. “Jane already called dibs on you.”

“Dibs?” Ty asked with a smile.

“Shut up, Ty—don’t act all innocent. You guys all do it!” I commented.