Rock Chick Revenge
I moved straight to the case of diet pop.
“Later!” I called to Matt as the doors started to close. He lifted his hand to his forehead, gave me a wink and a salute right before we lost sight of him.
Burying the latest episode with Luke deep, deeper, deepest, I ignored it even happened and got myself a can of pop, a glass, some ice from the fridge and poured it. All the while I was doing this, Luke watched me moving around his kitchen, his back to the counter, hips against it, arms crossed. I knew this not only because I saw him looking at me but I also felt it.
“You want a soda?” I asked, pretending not to be affected by him watching me.
“No,” he answered.
“I’m going to get dressed,” I told him.
Luke didn’t respond.
I took my glass of pop, grabbed my clothes and moved toward the bathroom, sensing escape and planning my grocery store dash, direct to the cookie dough.
“Ava,” Luke called.
I stopped and turned to him. “Yeah?”
“I’ve decided your payment.”
My body froze and a thrill ran up my back. It was a good thrill, maybe even a great thrill, definitely a vibrator-cheating thrill and I stared at him.
“What is it?”
“Be here tonight when you’re done with your friends.”
I did not think so.
“Luke, just tell me.”
“Be here tonight.”
I would have put my hands on my hips if my arms weren’t full. Instead, I hitched a hip and put a foot out in Bitch Attitude Stance.
“Tell me.”
“Tonight.”
I glared at him. He watched me.
Then he turned away, threw another chunk of melon into his mouth and started to make coffee.
I made the instant decision that there was no way I was coming to his loft that night.
Fuck that.
And he couldn’t make me pay him anything unless he sent me a goddamned invoice. That, I would gladly pay.
On that thought, I stomped to the bathroom, sucking back some soda and I kicked the door shut with my foot.
Chapter Five
I Need Cookies
I was standing in the cookie section at King Soopers searching for my motivational, healthy living mojo when my phone rang. I dug through my bag, pulled it out and saw “Riley Calling”. I flipped it open and put it to my ear.
“Thank God it’s you, Chips Ahoy or Nutter Butter?” I asked instead of saying hello.
Riley laughed in my ear. “Neither, where are you?”
“King Soopers and I had a shit night. I need processed cookie-type food.”
“No shit night is worth processed cookie-type food,” Riley told me.
He was so wrong.
“Last night was, believe me,” I said.
“Ava, step away from the cookies.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
“No.”
“Step away from the cookies and I’ll bring lunch to your place, one thirty. Deal?”
Holy crap.
What was that all about?
I’d never seen Riley outside of the gym. Well, not exactly, he’d been to all my birthday parties for five years and my annual Thank God It’s Summer Party that I held on Memorial Day every year, maybe we should just say I’d never seen Riley at my house alone.
“Deal,” I said, feeling kind of weird.
“Later.”
Disconnect.
Well, that’s interesting, Good Ava said.
Luke’s cuter, he has better lips and he has good chest hair. Not to mention his eyes are total YUM when they turn ink, Bad Ava said and then peered across my neck at Good Ava. Did you see his eyes?
I saw ‘em. They were YUM! Good Ava agreed.
“Shut up,” I whispered and a lady standing beside me gave me a weird look. I shot her an embarrassed smile, went directly to the produce section and bought enough grapes, oranges and plums to unconstipate the French Foreign Legion.
At Luke’s I had dressed quickly, came out of the bathroom, grabbed my purse and keys and gave him a “Later”. The whole time he sat on a barstool, holding his coffee cup, watching me and not saying a word. I had managed to escape without him giving me keys or his remote which I figured worked in my favor.
I went directly to King Soopers and was saved by Riley.
After I left King Soopers and was heading home, I decided I would call Shirleen at Nightingale Investigations and set up an account. I figured she would take my information and invoice me. It was a business and they had to keep their men in lofts and Porsches. They weren’t going to turn down my trade.
What I didn’t allow myself to think about was anything that had anything to do with Luke; his eyes turning to ink; the scar across his belly; his chest hair; how good a night’s rest I had while lying beside him (even handcuffed); or what he might taste like.
And I definitely didn’t think about getting shot at by AK-47s.
I let myself into my house and to keep my mind busy I cleaned it. Then I took a shower and tamed my hair. I swiped on a hint of makeup (Riley was coming over, after all) and because it was warm I put on a black Foo Fighters baby doll tee, another pair of faded (but not quite as faded as yesterday) Levi’s and a shitload of my silver to buoy my spirits. After I’d done that I had about a half an hour before Riley got there, so I got to work on one of my accounts. A deadline was drawing near and with all the Sissy business, I was procrastinating. I had to get some work done or I’d be fucked.
The office was upstairs in my second bedroom. The walls were painted a soft salmon because I heard that orange sparked energy and creativity and there was a desk and futon in there (for overnight guests). I’d made it into a funky room with cool, light wicker baskets and boxes, colorful toss pillows on the futon and a kickass, state-of-the-art swivel chair so I wouldn’t mind spending time there while I worked.
I barely got my computer booted up when my phone rang.
I answered it with a, “Yo.”
“You didn’t call me,” Sissy said, her voice sounding funny.
“Hey,” I replied. “You okay?”
“The police called me.”
Uh-oh.
“Sissy…” I started.
“Someone shot up my house and Dom is missing.”
I blinked. “Dom is missing?” I asked.
“Yeah. They waited for him at the house all night and they called his cell, no answer. They went to his office and he hasn’t shown up for work for two days, no calls to explain why he wasn’t there. Nothing.”
I knew Dom had an office. He “worked” for his Uncle Vito but I suspected it was a front for something. I didn’t ask because Sissy wouldn’t tell. And anyway, I liked Uncle Vito. I met him at Sissy and Dom’s engagement party and he was a hoot. He thought I was hilarious and always laughed at my jokes. I didn’t like thinking he was a criminal mastermind mafia-type person that would suck.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m freaked. Can you check my house?”
“Sure,” I told her.
“Thank God you weren’t there,” she breathed. “They told me they used a machine gun, totally shot up my living room. Can you imagine if you were there?”
Yep, I could imagine.
“Go to the house during the day,” she said. “Take someone with you.”
“Riley’s coming over for lunch. I’ll ask him if he wants to go.”
Silence then, “Riley’s coming over for lunch?”
“Yeah. He called me this morning and told me he was coming over.”
“What’s that all about?”
I laughed at her saying my thoughts out loud. “Hell if I know.”
“Call me the minute you find out.”
“I will.”
“Do you think I should come home?” she asked.
“Let me check it out, Sis. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” there was a pause then, quietly, ??
?I hope Dom is okay.” I didn’t speak. “I know you don’t like him, and I know he’s a jerk but I can’t help how I feel.”
“I know, Sis. I hope he’s okay too.”
There it was again. Liar, liar pants on fire.
We said good-bye and I had barely put the phone down when it rang again.
I picked it up. “Yo.”
“Yo back at ‘cha,” Ally Nightingale said in my ear. “You comin’ to The Hornet?”
“Hey girl. Sure,” I told her.
“Cool, but you gotta give me something early. The girls are goin’ nuts. You know Luke?” she asked.
Shit.
“What girls?” I asked back.
“The Rock Chicks. Indy, Jet, Roxie, Daisy, Jules…”
My breath caught. “Jet, Roxie and Jules?” I asked.
Those were the names of Luke’s friends that he told me about and since not many people were named Jet, Roxie and Jules, they had to be –.
“Yeah. Jet works for Indy and she’s living with Eddie Chavez. Roxie is my brother Hank’s girlfriend, they’re living together too. Jules is with Vance, one of Lee’s boys.”
Holy cramoly.
See, what’d I say about Denver having a small town feel?
“So… Luke?” Ally prompted.
“I’ve known him since I was eight. He lived across the street.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Wicked, sister. Luke is hot,” she said.
Boy, did I ever know that.
“He works for my brother,” she went on.
“I know.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“I don’t know. He went gonzo on me. I haven’t seen him in years. I popped by and he just lost it.”
Silence then, “Girl, I know Luke pretty well. He doesn’t lose it unless he has a reason.” She said this with only a hint of accusation but I felt like a bitch.
Maybe I was turning into Marilyn and Sofia. I shivered and I shivered because that would suck.
Time to fight back the Barlow Bitch Pull.
“It’s a long story,” I confided. “We have some history. I made him a promise I didn’t keep and it was important to him.”
“You two work things out?”
“Not really.”
“You gonna work things out?”
I hoped not. I didn’t know what working things out would entail but I had a scary feeling it would entail Vibrator Infidelity.
“We’ll see,” I allowed. “I’ll tell you about it tonight.”
“Righteous. See you at seven.”
“Cool.”
We hung up and I sat looking at the phone with the very unhappy thought that my life was about to get pretty fucking complicated.
I had barely pulled up my files when the doorbell went. I sighed, walked away from the computer and down the stairs. I opened my door and Riley was there.
Really, he was seriously good-looking. I wasn’t into blond guys but if I was I’d likely have a crush on him.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied on a white smile and lifted up a bag. “Noodles, veggies, no processed cookie-type food.”
“Damn,” I mumbled to be funny, and, as usual when I was trying to be funny, he laughed.
As I let him in the phone started ringing.
I took the bag from him saying, “I’ll see to the food, you get the phone.”
“No problem.”
I headed to the kitchen. Riley headed to the cordless in the living room.
I was pulling noodles and veggies out of the bag (which, I had to admit, looked good) to put on Fiestaware plates (cobalt blue for Riley, pink for me) when he walked in saying, “Sure, she’s right here.”
He took the phone away from his ear and said on a grin. “It’s for you.”
I reached for the phone. “What a surprise, Riles, you big dork.”
He reached out and nabbed the back of my head. Pulling it to him, he kissed my forehead. I went solid, phone in my hand and stared at him totally stunned. He’d never done that before. Sure, it was kind of brotherly and cute but it was a kiss.
To cover my freak out, I said, “Quit kissing me, Riley, you’ll give me cooties.”
“Fuck off,” he returned, still grinning at me.
I put the phone to my ear and said, “Yo.”
Silence.
“Hello?” I called into the silence.
“Who’s Riley?”
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.
It was Luke.
“Luke?”
“Who the fuck is Riley?”
Wow. He sounded pissed off. As in, extremely pissed off.
“Um… a friend?” it came out as a question, like I needed Luke to answer it for me.
“You didn’t tell me about any friends this morning.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Okay, then I’m askin’ now.”
“About what?”
“How many friends do you have?”
“A lot of them.”
“I’m talkin’ about the ones who kiss you.”
Someone’s got the wrong end of the stick. Hee hee, Bad Ava sing-songed in my ear.
Oh dear, Good Ava said in the other one.
“I can’t talk now, I’m kinda busy.” I wasn’t playing games. I was acutely aware of Riley watching me and the fact he had just kissed my forehead and this was a weird situation I’d never found myself in. I honestly didn’t know what to do.
I felt unhappy vibes stinging my ear through the phone.
“Why are you calling?” I asked when Luke made no response.
“You forgot the remote and keys.”
“Erm…”
“You gonna be home for awhile?”
“I have company.”
“You gonna be home for awhile?” he repeated.
“Um, no, we have an errand to run after we have lunch.”
“We do?” Riley asked and I waved at him to shut up.
“You gonna be home after your errand?” Luke asked in my ear.
Shit.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be there at four.”
“Luke.”
He didn’t hear me say his name, he had already disconnected.
“My life is fucked,” I told Riley, punching the off button on the phone with my thumb.
“Who was that?” he asked, his face morphing to concern.
“An old friend,” I blew it off, not wanting to delve deeper and certainly not willing to share. Thankfully, Riley let it go.
“What errand we running?” he asked.
I told him about Sissy’s place.
“Holy shit. Sure I’ll go with you,” he told me.
“Thanks, Riles.”
We ate lunch, we chatted, he teased me (as usual). I made him laugh (as usual). Nothing weird, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to make this seem in any way other than our normal friendship. Nothing.
After we were done, he drove me to Sissy’s and we inspected the damage using the key I still had after pocketing it last night.
“Holy shit,” Riley repeated his words of earlier, looking around while standing in the living room.
Holy shit was right. The place was a mess, the front window and door were boarded, debris everywhere. I started to get the shakes, for more reasons than just seeing the devastation an AK-47 could do. Flashback City.
Riley put an arm around me and guided me out. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Sissy’s going to freak,” I told him.
“Sissy’s going to freak,” he replied.
“I think this is a processed cookie-type food moment.”
“Ava, no moment is a processed cookie-type food moment. This is, however, a shot of tequila-type moment.”
He was not wrong.
We went to Reiver’s, a bar on South Gaylord that was close to Sissy’s place. It had been there forever and was decorated entirely in wood. They had kickass black bean dip
there but I did not suggest this to Riley who would likely find that suggestion a disappointing testament to lack of motivation for healthy living mojo.
I had a shot of tequila, chased by a diet pop. Riley had a beer. Riley engaged me in a conversation that would take my thoughts off Sissy’s living room and what he didn’t know was my thoughts of my own mortality and plans to draw up a will, ASAP.
Eventually, I looked at my watch and gave a little scream.
“What?” Riley asked.
“It’s ten to four. Luke’s gonna be at my house at four. We gotta move,” I’d jumped off my barstool and was hopping around on my flip-flops freaked the hell out.
“Who’s Luke?” Riley was watching me closely.
“An old friend.”
His eyes narrowed. “You got a lot of them.”
“Let’s go!” I nearly shouted.
“All right, all right. Keep your pants on.’
We paid, we left, we got home too late.
I knew because the clock on the dash of Riley’s Pathfinder said it was quarter after four. I also knew because, as we rolled up to my house, Luke’s Porsche was parked there, Luke leaning against it arms crossed on his chest. He didn’t look happy and this unhappiness increased exponentially when his head turned and he saw Riley and me pulling up.
“Crap,” I whispered.
“That Luke?” Riley asked, checking him out.
“Yeah.”
“You owe him money?” Riley asked, maybe trying to be funny but his question was too close to the bone.
“Thanks for lunch, for going with me, for the tequila, everything,” I said, turning to him as I saw Luke push away from the Porsche.
“I’ll just make sure everything’s okay. He doesn’t look –”
“No!” I cried, again in a near shout.
Riley’s eyes cut to me. “I’ll just make sure everything’s okay,” Riley repeated in a tone I’d never heard him use before. He was usually laid-back. He looked not at all laid-back anymore.
Crapity, crap, crap, crap.
Riley got out. I got out. Luke met us on the sidewalk by Riley’s car, right in front of my house. Luke and Riley sized each other up. Riley was a personal trainer and Luke still looked like he could wipe the floor with him.
“You Luke?” Riley asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Yeah, you Riley?” Luke asked, even though he, likely, knew the answer too.