Beautiful Oblivion

  Trenton made eye contact with Cindy, and held up his index finger. She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. Olive clapped her hands together as Cindy brought over the plate in one hand, and holding three forks in the other. The slice was nearly a third of the pie, with a heaping mound of white, whipped topping.

  "Enjoy," Cindy said, sounding tired but pleasant.

  We dug in, all humming when the first bite of sugary goodness found its way to our mouths. Within a couple of minutes, the plate was empty. Cindy brought the bill, and I tried to pay for half, but Trenton wouldn't even entertain the idea.

  "If you pay, it's a date," I said.

  "Do you ever pay for Raegan's lunch?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Is that a date?"

  "No, but--"

  "Shh," he said, lifting Olive into his arms. "This is the part where you say thank you." He put two bills on the table, and then shoved his wallet into his back pocket.

  "Thank you," Olive said, resting her head on Trenton's shoulder.

  "You're welcome, Ew." He leaned over and grabbed his keys from the table.

  "Ew?" I asked.

  Olive eyed me with sleepy twin pools. I didn't push the subject.

  The ride back to my apartment was quiet, but mostly because Olive had fallen asleep in her car seat. Her little cheek was smooshed against the cushion beside her face. She looked so peaceful, so happily lost wherever she had drifted off to.

  "Her parents just let the neighbor covered in tattoos babysit their five-year-old?"

  "No. This is new. We just started Chicken Joe's this year on my days off. I watched Olive for Shane and Liza a couple times for about half an hour or so in the beginning and we somehow graduated to Chicken Joe's."

  "Weird."

  "I've been her Twent for a long time."

  "And she's your Ew?"

  "Yep."

  "What's up with that?"

  "Her initials. Olive Ollivier. O.O. When you put them together, it makes an 'ew' sound."

  I nodded. "Makes sense. She's going to hate you for that in six years."

  Trenton glanced at the rearview mirror, and then back at the road. "Nah."

  The headlights lit the front door of my apartment, and Trenton finally looked ashamed. "I'd walk you to the door, but I don't want to leave Olive in the car."

  I waved him away. "I can get to the door by myself."

  "Maybe we can kidnap you again."

  "I work Saturdays. This was just a freak accident."

  "We could change it to Chicken Joe's Sundays."

  "I work Sundays."

  "Me, too. But not until one, and you don't go in until later, too, right? We could do lunch. An early lunch."

  I pulled my mouth to the side. "It's just not a good idea, Trent. But thank you."

  "Chicken Joe's is always a good idea."

  I chuckled and looked down. "Thanks for dinner."

  "You owe me," Trenton said, watching me get out.

  I leaned down. "You kidnapped me, remember?"

  "And I'd do it again," he said as I shut the door.

  I walked to the building, and Trenton waited until I stepped inside before he began to back away.

  Raegan was sitting up on her knees on the couch cushions, gripping the back with her fingers. "So?"

  I looked around the apartment and tossed my purse onto the love seat. "So . . . that was maybe the best nondate date I've ever had."

  "Really? Even better than when you met T.J.?"

  I frowned. "I don't know. That was a pretty good night. But tonight was . . . different."

  "Good different?"

  "It was kind of perfect."

  Raegan raised an eyebrow and lowered her chin. "This could get messy. You should just tell him."

  "Don't be stupid. You know I can't," I said, walking toward my bedroom.

  My phone buzzed once, and then again. I fell onto my bed and looked at the display. It was T.J.

  "Hello?" I said, holding the phone to my ear.

  "Sorry it took me so long to call . . . we just got in . . . everything okay?" T.J. asked.

  "Yes. Why?"

  "I thought I heard something in your voice when you answered."

  "You're hearing things," I said, trying not to think about how adorable Trenton looked with a sleepy Olive draped over his shoulder.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The better part of Sunday morning was spent in bed. Around ten thirty, my mother texted me, asking if I was coming to Sunday lunch. I informed her that because of the trip cancellation, Hank had taken the opportunity to call an employee meeting. It was mostly the truth. The employees hung out at the Red every Sunday afternoon, and then we'd all go home to freshen up for the Sunday night shift.

  Mom didn't hesitate to send back a message meant to make me feel guilty.

  "I'm riding with Kody!" Raegan yelled from her bedroom.

  "K!" I yelled back from my bed. The phone call with T.J. hadn't ended until the wee hours of the morning. We discussed vague parts of his project that he could reveal, and then we talked about Trenton and Olive. T.J. didn't seem even the slightest bit jealous, which sort of pissed me off. And then I felt guilty when I realized I was trying to make him jealous, so I spent the rest of the conversation being super sweet to him.

  After a long pep talk with myself, I threw off my covers and shuffled to the bathroom. Raegan had already been in there. The mirror was still fogged, and the walls were still sweaty from the steam.

  I turned on the shower, grabbed two towels while the hot water kicked on, and then pulled off my worn Bulldog Football T-shirt and tossed it to the floor. The fabric was so thin it was see-through in some places. It was T.J.'s shirt, heather gray with royal-blue writing. I wore it the night before T.J. left to go back to California--the first night we slept together--and he didn't ask for it when he left. That shirt represented a time when everything was perfect between us, so it held a special significance for me.

  By noon I had dressed, jumped in the Smurf with minimal makeup and wet hair, driven to the closest fast-food restaurant to grab a couple of items off the value menu, scrounged up $2.70 in coins to pay for lunch, and then made my way to the Red Door. The entrance area was empty, but music was playing through the speakers. Classic rock. That meant Hank was already there.

  When I sat down at the east bar, Hank came around from the other side and smiled. He was wearing a black button-up shirt with black slacks and a black belt. Typical for him during work hours, but he was usually dressed down on Sundays.

  I straddled a barstool, and rested my chin on my fist. "Hey, Hank. You look nice."

  "Well, hello, good-lookin'," Hank said with a wink. "I'm not going home before open tonight. Paperwork and all that fun shit. Did you enjoy your weekend off?"

  "I did, under the circumstances."

  "Jorie said Trenton Maddox was hanging around your table Friday night. I must have missed it."

  "I'm surprised. Usually you're watching the Maddoxes like a hawk."

  Hank made a face. "I have to. They're either starting a fight or finishing one."

  "Yeah, they almost finished one with Coby, the jackass. Even when I told him who they were, he still didn't back down."

  "Sounds about right."

  "I already need a drink!" Jorie called from the other side of the room. She was walking in with Blia. They both took a stool on each side of me and put their purses on the bar.

  "Rough night?" Hank said, amused.

  Jorie lifted an eyebrow. If it was possible to flirtatiously chomp on a piece of gum, she was doing it. "You tell me."

  "I'd say you had a pretty good night," he said with a smirk.

  "Ew," I said, my entire face compressing. Hank's dark, curly hair, light-blue eyes, five o'clock shadow, and tan skin made him attractive to nearly every female between the ages of fifteen and eighty, but Hank was twelve years older than us, and I'd witnessed so many of his shenanigans that he was more like a cute but ornery uncle to me. The only thing I
wanted to visualize him doing was paperwork and counting money at the end of the night. "No one needs to hear that."

  Hank was responsible for the end of at least a dozen marriages in our little town, and he was notorious for paying attention to barely legal young women just long enough to dip his stick. But when Jorie began working at the Red last year, he was obsessed. Jorie, an army brat with nine cities under her belt and unimpressed by most things, was definitely not falling for Hank's charms. It wasn't until there was a major turnaround in his behavior and reputation that she gave him the time of day. They'd had a couple of setbacks, but they were good for each other.

  Jorie elbowed me and gave Hank a playful glare.

  Tuffy walked in, looking tired and depressed as usual. He was a bouncer at the Red until he was fired. Hank had a soft spot for him, though, and rehired him six months later as a DJ. After his third divorce and third bout with depression, he missed work too many times and got fired again. Now, on his fourth wife and fourth chance at the Red, he was reduced to working the entrance and checking IDs at half pay.

  Just a few seconds later, Rafe Montez followed behind Tuffy. He took over for Tuffy as DJ, and frankly was far better. He was quiet and kept to himself, and even though he'd worked at the Red for nearly a year, I didn't know much about him other than that he never missed a night of work.

  "Holy shit the bed, Cami! Debra Tillman told my mom that you were at Chicken Joe's with Trenton Maddox!" Blia said.

  Jorie's bleached curls flipped from one shoulder to the other when she looked over at me. "Seriously?"

  "I was coerced. He showed up at my apartment with a little girl. He told her she could go to Chicken Joe's as soon as I got ready."

  "That's kind of sweet." Blia brushed her long black hair off her shoulder and smiled, making her beautiful almond-shaped eyes turn into thin slits. She was barely five foot two and always wore sky-high shoes to make up for being vertically challenged. Today she wore inches-thick wedges with white skinny jeans and a floral top that scrunched at her midriff and fell off one shoulder. With her beauty-queen smile and flawless saffron skin, I always thought she was destined to be famous rather than waste her time behind the front beer kiosk, but she didn't seem interested.

  Jorie frowned. "Does T.J. know?"

  "Yes."

  "Isn't that . . . awkward?" Jorie asked.

  I shrugged. "T.J. didn't seem fazed."

  Hank looked past me and smiled, and I turned around to see Raegan and Kody walk in. Raegan was walking quickly, searching in her purse for something, and Kody was a few steps behind, trying to keep up.

  Raegan sat down on a stool, and Kody stood next to her. "I can't find my damn keys. I've looked for them everywhere!"

  I leaned forward. "Seriously?" Our apartment keys were on that key ring.

  "I'll find them," Raegan assured me. She lost her keys at least twice a month, so I wasn't going to stress over it too much, but I always wondered if the next time would be the time that we would have to pay to change the locks.

  "I'm going to glue those damn things to your hand, Ray," I said.

  Kody gave Raegan's shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "She had them last night. They're either in my truck or in the apartment. We'll look again later."

  The side door shut, and we all watched the door at the end of the hall to see the last of us, Chase Gruber, stroll in through the employee entrance in his typical attire. The six-foot-six college junior wore shorts year-round. In the winter he wore an ESU Bulldogs hoodie over the random T-shirt, but his short, curly hair was always covered by either a helmet or his favorite red baseball cap. His laces were untied, and he looked like he just rolled out of bed.

  Blia's face lit up. "Radtastic, it's Gruber!"

  Gruber didn't crack a smile or remove his sunglasses.

  "Rough day, Booby?" Kody said with a smirk.

  All of the football guys called each other by their last names. To be honest, I wasn't convinced they knew each other's first names. Gruber was quickly nicknamed Gruby during practice, and sometime after Gruber started at the Red, Kody began calling him Booby. It was funny last year, but the name had lost its shine, for Gruber and for everyone else but Kody.

  Gruber sat on the empty stool next to Blia with his elbows on the bar and his fingers intertwined. "Fuck off, Kody. Coach ran our asses off today because we lost last night."

  "Then don't lose," Tuffy said.

  Kody chuckled.

  "Eat my dick, quitter."

  Kody laughed once and shook his head. It was true. Kody did quit the football team before the season started, but that was because he blew out his knee at the end of the last game of his sophomore year. He suffered multiple ligament tears, one was shredded, and his kneecap was dislocated. I didn't even know the kneecap could be dislocated, but the orthopedic surgeon said he would never play again. Raegan said he didn't talk about it, but he seemed to be dealing with it well. As a true freshman, Kody had helped our little university win the national championship. Without him, the team was struggling.

  The door shut again, and we all froze. It was too early for patrons, and unless someone followed Gruber, only employees knew to come in through the side entrance. We all sucked in a collective gasp when T.J. appeared. He was holding up a set of shiny keys.

  "I went by the apartment. These were lying on the stairs."

  I jumped up from my stool and walked quickly over to him. T.J. took me into his arms and gave me a tight squeeze.

  "What are you doing here?" I whispered.

  "I felt horrible."

  "That's sweet, but what are you really doing here?"

  T.J. sighed. "The job."

  "Here?" I said, pulling away from him to see his face. He was being truthful, but I knew he wouldn't tell me more.

  T.J. smiled, and then kissed the corner of my mouth. He tossed the keys to Kody, who effortlessly caught them.

  Raegan laughed once. "On the stairs? Did they fall out of my hand or something?" she asked in disbelief.

  Kody shrugged. "No telling, woman."

  T.J. leaned in to whisper into my ear. "I can't stay. My plane leaves in an hour."

  I couldn't hide my disappointment, but nodded. There was no point in protesting. "Did you do what you needed to do?"

  "I think so." T.J. took my hand, and nodded to the rest of the crew. "She'll be right back."

  Everyone waved, and T.J. led me out the side door to the parking lot. A rented, shiny black Audi was parked just outside. He'd left it running.

  "Wow, you weren't joking. You're really leaving right now."

  He sighed. "I debated whether it would be worse to only see you for a second, or to not see you at all."

  "I'm glad you came."

  T.J. slid his hand between my hair and my neck, and pulled me into him, kissing me with the lips that made me fall in love with him. His tongue found its way into my mouth. It was warm and soft and forceful at the same time. My thighs involuntarily tensed. T.J.'s hand slid down my arm, and then to my hip, to my thigh, where he squeezed just enough to show his desperation.

  "Me, too," he said, a bit breathless when he finally pulled away. "You don't know how much I wish I could stay."

  I wanted him to, but I wouldn't ask. That just made it harder on both of us, and might make me look pathetic.

  T.J. got into his car and drove away, and I walked back into the Red, feeling emotionally drained. Raegan's bottom lip was pushed out a bit, and Hank was frowning so severely that a deep line had formed between his brows.

  "If you ask me," Hank said, crossing his arms over his chest, "that little bastard rushed home to piss on you real quick."

  My face screwed into disgust. "Ick."

  Gruber nodded. "If Trent's coming around, then that's exactly what that was."

  I shook my head as I sat on the stool. "T.J.'s not threatened by Trent. He's barely mentioned him."

  "So he knows," Gruber said.

  "Well, yeah. I'm not trying to hide it."


  "You think he's here to talk to Trent?" Kody asked.

  I shook my head again, picking at a hangnail. "No. He's not big on announcing our relationship, so he definitely wouldn't approach Trent about me."

  Hank grumbled and walked away, coming right back. "I don't like that, either. He should be shouting to the world that he loves you, not hiding you like a dirty secret!"

  "It's hard to explain, Hank. T.J. is a very . . . private person. He's a complicated individual," I said.

  Blia rested her cheek on her hand. "Holy shit balls, Cami. Your whole situation is complicated."

  "You're telling me," I said, lifting my buzzing cell phone. It was T.J., saying that he missed me already. I returned the sentiment, and set my phone on the bar.

  *

  For the first time in months, I didn't have to return to the bar after the Sunday employee meeting, which wasn't completely horrible, since it was thundering outside, and rain was pelting the windows. I had already caught up on my studying, all of my homework was complete, and the laundry was folded and put away. It felt weird having nothing to do.

  Raegan was working the east bar with Jorie, and Kody was manning the entrance, so I was home alone and bored out of my mind. I watched a rather fascinating zombie show on television, and then pushed the power button on the remote, sitting in complete silence.

  Thoughts about T.J. began to creep into my mind. I wondered whether continuing with something that seemed so futile was worth dragging my heart through the mud, and what it meant that he'd come all the way here to only see me for three minutes.

  My cell phone buzzed. It was Trenton.

  Hey.

  Hey.

  Open your door, loser. It's raining.

  What?

  He knocked on the door, and I jumped, turning around on the couch. I scampered over to the door and leaned in closer. "Who is it?"

  "I told you who it was. Open the freakin' door!"

  I unlocked the chain and bolt lock to see Trenton standing in the doorway, his jacket soaked, and the rain pouring off his scalp and down his face.

  "Can I come in?" he said, shivering.

  "Jesus, Trent!" I said, yanking him inside.

  I jogged to the bathroom to get a freshly folded towel, and returned within a few seconds, tossing it to Trenton. He peeled off his jacket, and then his T-shirt, and then patted his face and head with the towel.

  Trenton looked down at his jeans. They were soaked, too.

  "Kody might have some sweatpants in Ray's room, hold on," I said, walking quickly down the hall to my roommate's room.