So
Hunter calls for a limo to deliver me back to my apartment building. The whole
thing is paid for in advance, so all I have to do is sit in the back, wondering
if I still have to tip.
When
the limo pulls up in front of my building, I can’t help but notice the couple
enthusiastically making out by the front door. I smile in amusement until I
realize the couple is Jamie and Gabby. At which point, I get that sick feeling
in my stomach that I’ve now become accustomed to.
In
the three years I’ve known him, I’ve seen Jamie kiss a handful of women at
various times, but it’s hard to assess from that what his kissing ability is. But
I can see whatever he’s doing right now is making Gabby very happy. His lips
are pressed against hers and she’s pressed against the walls of the building, a
smile playing on her lips. It’s at that moment I realize any chance I ever had
with Jamie is gone forever.
And
it makes me feel so goddamn sad.
I
climb out of the limo and it drives away before I can think about whether or
not I’m supposed to tip. I can’t stop staring at Jamie and Gabby, and what’s
worse is that I have to walk right past them to get inside the building. Honestly,
it’s really rude of them. Don’t they know that people would like to get home
without having to push past kissing people?
I try
to hurry past them before they can notice me, but I trip over my own heels on a
crack in the pavement. I manage to catch myself, but not before I let out a
little yelp that pulls Jamie and Gabby apart.
Jamie’s
cheeks redden when he’s sees me, but Gabby just grins wider. I don’t think I’ve
ever seen her so happy with a guy in all the years I’ve known her. And for the
first time in a while, I realize how cute Gabby is. I get so used to looking at
her that I forget what she really looks like. But Gabby is pretty, especially
when she’s all dolled up with the mascara bringing out her eyes and her big
boobs squeezed into a low-cut blouse. Even her pixie cut looks cute tonight. I
can see why Jamie likes her.
“Sneaking
home awfully late, missy,” Gabby teases me.
“I
could say the same for you,” I point out.
“Touche,” she laughs. “And when do
we get to meet this mystery man? Shooter, was it?”
I
roll my eyes. “Hunter.”
“Right.”
She nods. “So when do we meet the guy? Jamie’s down with it, right?”
Jamie’s
smiles crookedly at me as he reaches for his cane, now that he’s not leaning on
Gabby for support. “Sure. I want to meet him.”
I toy
with a strand of my red hair. “Um, Hunter feels like it’s a little… soon to be
meeting my friends.”
“What?”
Gabby bursts out. “Too soon! What’s wrong with this guy? Brooke, I’m
getting a commitment-phobic alert here.”
“Look,”
I mumble, “it hasn’t
been very long. He’s got a point.”
“It’s
a red flag,” she insists. “Jamie here is willing to meet my friends. Hell, he’d
meet my parents if I wanted.”
Jamie’s
blue eyes widen. “Your parents? Jesus, Gabby…”
She
smacks him in the arm. “I’m saying hypothetically, you idiot. Don’t have
a panic attack. Sheesh.” She sighs. “Okay, fine. It’s not totally weird that
he’s hesitant. But I still want to meet the guy.”
“You
will,” I promise. “Soon.”
“It
better be.”
I
walk up the steps to the front door and take one last look at Jamie and Gabby. “Um,
you coming inside, Jamie?”
It’s
a loaded question. Gabby already told me they haven’t had sex yet. Will Gabby
come up with Jamie tonight? Or will she go home? I may have a three month rule
about sex, but Gabby has no such rule. At some point, it was a “five date rule”
then it became a “three date rule.” Now I suspect it’s just a free for all.
Jamie
takes Gabby’s hand in his. “I think we’re going to stay out here a little
longer,” he says.
“Oh,”
I say. “Okay.”
“G’night,
Brooke!” Gabby calls.
“Good
night,” I say.
And I
quickly walk into the building before I have to watch them kiss again.
***
I sit
across from Detective Bateman’s desk in his office, butterflies filling my
stomach. It’s been three full days since I got the blond hair from Hunter's apartment, and I only just worked up the courage to call him this morning. He’s
watching me with his dark eyes—almost as dark as Hunter’s but maybe not quite. When
I called him and told him I had new information on the case, he was eager to
see me immediately. But now he appears skeptical of what I have to say.
“You
want me to match a hair with Ms. Lancaster’s?” he repeats.
“Yes.”
“And
where did you find this hair?” he asks me.
“I…”
I bite my lip. “I can’t say.”
“You
can’t say?” The detective looks at me in disbelief. “Brooke, if you
expect me to do an analysis for you, I need to know why. This isn’t the Police
Academy movies.”
“I
can tell you,” I correct myself. “But only if they’re a match.”
“How
about this?” Bateman says coolly. “How about you tell me or else I arrest you
for obstruction of justice?”
I
stare at him. Bateman was always so nice to me in the past, and we were
practically flirting at the dry-cleaning place. It’s a shock to see this side of
him. But of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not here to play games. He
wants to figure out who killed Sydney and bring that person to justice.
And
so do I. I have to know the truth.
He
sees the look on my face and the hard lines around his mouth soften. “Just
because you saw me in my gym shorts, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to take my
job seriously,” he adds.
“Actually,”
I say, forcing a smile, “you were wearing jeans.”
“Right.”
He nods. “And so were you.”
We
look at each other across his desk. His desk is so cluttered with papers, it
seems like any wrong move will cause an avalanche of documents to fall to the
ground. When I came into the office, he had to clear papers off one of the
chairs so I could sit. The only other thing I can discern on his desk is his
computer and a plaque with his name on it. There are no photographs in the
room—nothing to indicate any sort of personal life outside of the police force.
“Okay,”
I finally say. “I found it at the apartment of a male… friend of mine who claims
he didn’t know Sydney. I got suspicious, but… if I’m wrong, I don’t want the
police showing up at his door. He’ll know it’s me and he’ll…”
Detective
Bateman raises his dark eyebrows at me. “Is it your boyfriend?”
“He’s
not exactly my boyfriend,” I mumble.
Now
the detective looks amused. “All right. Give me his name and we’ll compare it
to hair samples we have from Ms. Lancaster. I won’t act on it unless we feel
confident of a match.”
“You’re
going to do DNA testing?”
He
holds up the baggie containing the mystery hair. “Yes, although DNA testing
capabilities are limited on hair that’s naturally shed. If we find hair that’s
been ripped forcibly from the scalp, sometimes we get lucky and there’s usable
nuclear DNA material there. But we can still run the test and see if it shares
mitochondrial DNA with hair samples we have for your friend. But I wouldn’t do
that first.”
“What
will you do?”
“I
would start off by doing a microscopic comparison to Ms. Lancaster’s hair,” he
says. “It’s far less specific than DNA testing or a fingerprint and wouldn’t be
enough to prove anything in court, but we have a great forensic pathologist. If
she agrees there’s a high likelihood it’s from the same person, we’ll run the
mitochondrial DNA analysis.”
“Oh.”
The microscopic comparison is the same thing Jolene did, although she’s far
from an expert on hair. Still, he seems confident.
“So
what’s this guy’s name?”
I
take a deep breath. Once I tell him Hunter’s name, I’ll have gone down an
irreversible path. But I have to tell him. I have to know the truth. “Hunter T. Stone.”
“What
does the T stand for?”
“I
don’t know.”
Detective
Bateman scribbles something down on one of the million papers on his desk. But
even as he writes, his eyes are trained on mine. “And you’re dating this guy?”
I
hesitate a beat before I nod.
A
tiny smile plays on his lips. “So you’re dating a guy who you think could be a
murderer and you’re just… okay with that?”
“I’m
not okay with it!” I cry. “That’s why I gave you the hair.”
“Are
you going to go out with him again?”
I
hesitate again. “We have a date tonight.”
The
detective throws back his head and laughs. “I guess it really is true—women
like dangerous men.”
“If
it turns out he killed Sydney, I’ll end it,” I say. When I see the look he
gives me, my cheeks grow warm. “Obviously.”
“I’ll
be in touch,” he says. “Just to let you know if you should cancel your next
date because we’re taking Mr. Stone to jail.”
“I’d
appreciate that,” I huff.
I
feel a little ridiculous. He’s right—if I really think there’s any reasonable
chance Hunter killed Sydney, why would I go out with him again? Am I really
that dumb?
Apparently
so, because I have no inclination to cancel.
***
When
I get into my building and see the “Out of Order” sign on our only elevator, I
let out a groan. I’ve been on my feet at work most of the day and I’m not
excited about trudging up seven flights of stairs to my apartment. Seven
flights is a lot—the other times I’ve done it when the elevator has been broken
down in the past, my legs felt like they were going to fall off by the end of
it. I’m not in great shape.
Also,
I’ve been jumpy and irritable ever since I handed that hair over to Detective
Bateman. Every time my phone rings, I’m certain it’s Bateman, telling me the
hairs were a match. Hunter called me up last night for a date and I put him
off, not wanting to see him again until I heard back on the DNA test. But those
things can take two weeks… I don’t think I can put him off that long.
Jamie
comes in behind me and he doesn’t look thrilled either when he sees the sign on
the elevator door. It’s got to be even worse for him than for me. Even though
he only lives on the fifth floor, I can imagine it taking him the next hour to
make it up there. Stairs are not his friend.
“Sucks,
right?” I say, gesturing at the sign.
“Actually…”
He flashes me a crooked grin. “I have a key for the service elevator. The super
let me have it the last time the elevators stopped working.” He raises his
eyebrows at me. “Want a ride?”
Is he
kidding me? “Definitely.”
I
follow him down the hall to where the service elevator is located. I’ve never
taken it before, but it appears tiny and cramped, based on the size of the door
being about half the size of our own elevator door. Still, it’s way better than
stairs.
“I
hope you’re not claustrophobic,” Jamie says as he inserts his key into the pad
by the elevator door.
“I
don’t think I am.”
Although
when I see the inside of the elevator, I change my mind. I very well might be claustrophobic
because the thought of going inside this dimly lit, tiny elevator with padded
walls scares the shit out of me. Jamie steps inside and puts his hand on the
door to hold it open for me. I hesitate, debating if this will be worse than
climbing all those stairs.
Ultimately,
laziness wins out.
I
step inside the elevator, standing far closer to Jamie than I’ve been since he
started dating Gabby. I’m close enough that I can smell spearmint on his breath
and when I lift my eyes, I’m staring directly into his. He has nice eyes.
“It’s
a little cramped in here,” he comments.
“Yeah,”
I breathe.
Funny
how I thought I was going to be terrified in this elevator, but somehow, I’m
feeling something entirely different. Our faces are less than a foot apart. The
way I feel around Hunter is like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life, but
there’s something that isn’t entirely real about it, if that makes any sense. Sometimes
it’s like I’m watching a movie about a girl dating a really handsome guy. Me
and Jamie in this elevator—it feels real.
I think about all the years we’ve known each other, all the kind things he’s
done for me, how sexy he looks when he smiles…
Like
he’s smiling right now.
If I
leaned forward and kissed him right now, what would happen? He’d push me away,
right? He’s got Gabby. He wouldn’t cheat on Gabby. I know he’s not a cheater.
The
elevator dings to announce Jamie’s floor. Without breaking eye contact with me,
he steps off the elevator. “Uh, listen,” he says, “do you want to come over for
a bit? We can have a beer, watch some television…”
I
smile at him. “An infomercial?”
He
laughs. “I don’t know if any are on, but we can channel surf till we find one.”
I
hesitate. I don’t know how Gabby would feel about this.
“Come
on,” he says, “you haven’t been over in a really long time.”
“Um,”
I say, “okay.”
I
step off the elevator to join him. The last thing I want is to get back in that
coffin all alone anyway. Besides, it’s been forever since Jamie and I have hung
out. We used to go to his place or mine once or twice a month for a beer, some
TV, and some conversation. A lot of times, we’d order in a pizza or Chinese
food and hang out the entire night. I can’t even remember what we used to talk
about. Usually one of us would be dating someone, but it never stopped us from
hanging out before.
When
we get to Jamie’s apartment, I settle down on the couch while he grabs a couple
of beers from the fridge. I hear his voice calling out to me, “Is light beer
okay?”
“Sure!”
I call back.
I
hear a buzzing sound and realize Jamie’s left his cell phone on the end-table. I
can’t help but glance at the screen and am not surprised to see Gabby’s name.
Will be over in about an hour.
Gabby’s
coming here? Why did Jamie invite me over if he’s got a date with her?
Before
I can contemplate further, the phone buzzes again: Still shaking from what you did to me last night.
Followed
by a winky smiley face. And then an emoticon of a tongue.
Well,
she isn’t leaving much to the imagination.
Jamie
limps into the living room holding one beer in his hand and the other tucked under
his arm. He plops down on the couch, then hands me one of the two beers.
“Why
do you have light beer anyway?” I ask him. “I thought you hated it.”
He
shrugs. “It’s Gabby’s.”
Of
course.
“Um.”
I bite my lip, wanting to say something about Gabby coming over, but not
wanting to reveal that I read his text message. Then again, I didn’t really do
anything wrong. They popped up right on the screen. “Is Gabby coming over
tonight?”
He
nods. “Yeah, I think so.” He glances over at his phone and picks it up. “Yeah,
looks like she is.”
Then
he grins at the other message on the screen.
I
clear my throat. “Does she come over most nights?”
“Maybe
a few times this week.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “Why do you ask?”
“I
don’t know.” I shrug, trying to act like I don’t care. “It just seems pretty
serious, considering you haven’t been together that long.”
“Well,
I’ve known her a while. Through you.”
“So
it is then?” I say. “Serious, I mean?”
I
hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
“Brooke,”
he says. “I’ve only been with her a month. How serious could it be?”
I let
out the breath, not wanting to admit how relieved I am by his answer. Then
again, they’re pretty hot and heavy for a month. At this rate, she’ll be nearly
moved in by three months and they’ll be married by six.
“Anyway,”
Jamie says, “what about you and Hunter? How’s that going?”
“Great!”
I say.
Great.
Wonderful. I’m having him investigated by the police, but other than that, it’s
the ideal relationship.
I
lean back on the couch, remember that night I got scared of the boogeyman in my
closet and Jamie rushed over at two in the morning to “save” me. The time when
he would do such a thing is clearly long gone.
“Do
you give foot massages to Gabby?” I ask him.
He
laughs. “You know what? It’s never come up.”
“Don’t
tell her how good you are,” I warn him. “You’re going to end up doing
twenty-four/seven foot massages.”
He
raises his eyebrows at me. “I was that good, huh?”
I
take a long swig of beer and avoid looking at him. “Pretty good.”
“Just
pretty good now?”
“If I
say you were really good, would you
give me a foot massage right now?”
I was
just joking around, but maybe I wasn’t entirely. In any case, Jamie’s cheeks
redden and he looks away from me. “Better not,” he mumbles. “Don’t want to get
in trouble with Gabby.”
“I
was joking.”
“I
know.”
I get
this feeling like I’m almost going to start crying. I put down my beer and grab
the remote. “Dibs,” I say as I turn on the television, even though I already
knew he’d let me watch whatever I want.
Any
tension between us melts as we devour two episodes of How I Met Your Mother. We both love the show, although Jamie finds
Bob Saget’s narration to be annoying. I’ve watched every episode of the show at
some point, but it’s okay to watch it again. I like watching shows I’ve already
seen before—it’s like hanging out with a friend you know really well.
Like
Jamie.
As
the second episode is wrapping up, I hear the doorbell ring. Jamie yells, “It’s
open! Come in!” And even though I knew Gabby was on her way over, it’s clear she didn’t know I’d be sitting on the
couch, sharing beers with her boyfriend, when she arrived.
“Oh,”
she says. “Um, hey, Brooke.”
She
doesn’t say it, but her meaning is clear: What
the hell are you doing here?
“Hey,
Gabby,” I say, as I get to my feet. Jamie is doing the same, although it takes
him a little more effort. He needs to hold onto something and push himself into
a standing position. “We were just watching some television.”
“Hey,
there,” Jamie says as he holds onto the couch, making his way over to her. “Glad
you could make it.”
When
he gets over to her, Gabby grabs him by the collar and pulls him in for a kiss
so steamy that I have to look away. Somehow I get the feeling the kiss was at
least partially for my benefit.
When
their lips separate, Gabby runs her hand over his chest and he smiles at her. “You
look really hot today,” she says. I hate the fact that I agree.
He
grins back at her. “So do you.”
God,
I have to get out of here.
“I
should probably get going,” I mumble.
“Oh,
do you?” Gabby frowns at me, but I’ve known her seven years and I can tell fake
sadness when I see it. “That’s too bad.”
“Yeah,
why don’t you join us for dinner?” Jamie says, because he’s not taking the hint.
“Uh,
that’s okay.” I reach for my purse. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got plans.”
I
don’t have plans.
“We’re
getting lunch tomorrow though, right?” she asks me.
“Of
course,” I say. Gabby and I have lunch together once a week, but I’m worried
she’s going to be huffy with me for hanging around with her boyfriend when she
wasn’t around. Still, she knows Jamie and I are friends. This was completely
innocent.
“Maybe
I can convince you to let us meet Hunter,” she adds.
“Maybe,”
I say, knowing it’s unlikely. Hunter is never going to agree to meet Gabby and
Jamie. I feel absolutely certain of it.
Thank you for the update - looking forward to the book already!
ReplyDeleteThanks! It will be out in a few days!
DeleteVampire, serial killer, whatever, poor girl needs some action after having to watch the two of them. Great chapter!
ReplyDeleteTc
Lol, thanks!
DeleteBetween Tom, Jamie and Hunter..it is a bit too much for me. Good kind of "too much" ;)
ReplyDeleteAs long as it's the good kind of too much ;)
DeleteOh my gosh, what's going on? Can't wait for the book
ReplyDeleteThanks! It's out Sept 10!
DeleteCan't wait for when Tom's history comes into modern times by 'crossing over.'
ReplyDeleteIt will happen shortly!
Delete