“I hear you. I’ll let it go.”
Chris and I had been through some rough times, but he was still one of my closest friends. When we didn’t see eye to eye on things, he got antsy. I couldn’t hold it against him, when I’d made my share of unfortunate choices.
“Maybe now he’ll get why I don’t want to associate with those people anymore. Sienna isn’t happy unless she’s causing problems.”
“Don’t I know it,” Jamie said.
“Lisa’s not with any of those girls tonight?” That would be a recipe for disaster. When Lisa ran into the girls from The Dollhouse, she was usually a mess for a few days afterward. I could imagine Sienna baiting Lisa for information, especially after my altercation with her. Lisa’s loyalties might lie with me, but Sienna was good at manipulating.
“No, thank God. She’s out with some girls from one of those classes she takes.”
“She and Tenley seem to like each other. Maybe they’ll start to hang out more or something,” I said.
“Maybe. You want to talk about that situation?” Jamie pulled into his driveway.
“I’m good.” I got out of the car, ending the potential train wreck of a conversation.
Jamie and Lisa lived in an old two-story detached home complete with white picket fence and elaborate gardens. The front porch was painted a vibrant red with black accents because Lisa was in charge of the color scheme. Her imprint was stamped all over the interior as well. Their fridge was one of those ’50s era aqua blue vintage jobs, and the furniture looked like it had been stolen from the set of Leave It to Beaver. It was like standing in a time warp. Except without the plastic covers on everything.
“Beer or liquor?” Jamie asked as he crossed through the living room to the kitchen.
He left his shoes on. It made me cringe. I unlaced mine and arranged them on the mat at the door, beside Lisa’s yellow army boots.
“Beer’s fine.”
I traveled the perimeter of the living room, taking the long way around to check out Jamie’s newest art. He always had one wall in each room on the main floor painted as a mural. The living room boasted a view of a dirt road lined with summer-full trees. The one in the dining room was a work in progress, but it looked like it was going be a full-size portrait of Lisa. Jamie passed me a beer when I came through the kitchen.
“Thanks.” I took a swig. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure thing.”
He didn’t comment when I bypassed the bathroom on the main floor. There was always a mural in the one upstairs, which gave me the perfect excuse to check out the second floor. I felt better when I knew all the rooms in the house were safe. Residual shit from when my parents died. I flipped on the hall light and climbed to the second floor. The stairs near the top creaked, and a shiver traveled down my spine. As I passed the office and the bedrooms, I reminded myself that Lisa was out with friends. All the rooms were relatively tidy except the master bedroom. Lisa’s clothes were strewn all over the bed like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear tonight. It would have driven me insane, but if Jamie was fazed by it, it didn’t show.
I headed for the bathroom. Inside was a huge claw-foot tub. The wall behind it was painted to make it feel like the room was underwater, with vibrant fish swimming toward the ceiling. The white floor was pristine, but the teal and black hand towels sat askew on the rack. I fixed them so they hung parallel to each other. When I was done admiring the art, I turned off all the lights, save the one in the hallway, and returned to the kitchen, beer in hand. Chris had arrived while I’d been upstairs. He was almost finished with his first beer, a second one waiting for him on the counter.
“Everything good, man?” Jamie asked.
“Yup.” I clinked my bottle against Chris’s in greeting.
We headed down to the basement. The walls were covered in old movie posters, and a set of decked-out recliners arced around an oversized flat-screen. On the other side were a pool table and a dartboard. The space was perfect for beers and watching action flicks. Chris racked the balls, and I chalked a cue.
“So what’s the deal with Tee?” he asked as he removed the triangle and I set up to break.
It annoyed the crap out of me that he had a nickname for her. I tamped down the emotion and played dumb. “You talking about the ink?”
“I guess. You’ve got a thing for her and now you’ve agreed to that huge back piece, so you can’t do anything about it. It must be driving you crazy.”
“I can handle myself.” I lined up the shot and broke the balls with a crack, scattering them across the table. A stripe went into the corner pocket.
“If you say so,” Chris said, “but I’m willing to bet my left nut you can’t make it until the end of that tattoo to get into her pants.”