“So did you see him?” I asked her eventually, feeling sober at the turn of my thoughts. I’d studiously avoided asking about my truck or whether she saw Jack when she went back to get it.
Jazz turned and looked at me. “The clothes you left are in the kitchen,” she said, indirectly answering my question, and then went on, “he said ... he said to say thank you and good luck with the house.” She winced at the last words.
My breath whooshed out of me. It was crushing. I stretched my feet down the last few steps to the floor and let my body slide, bumping down to meet them. When I got to the bottom, I curled over, hugging my knees to my chest and buried my face. Oh God, it hurt.
“I really should have let you drag me out and about these last few years,” I mumbled. “At the very least so I could get used to some rejection. This pain ...” I took deep breath. “This shit is real.”
Jazz thumped down to meet me at the bottom and rubbed a soothing hand up and down my spine.
“I know. God, do I know.”
“I’m crazy about him. Like, totally. Ugh. Isn’t that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard?”
“No, hon. It makes pretty good sense to me. How could you not be? We’re all in love with Max. Then the real guy comes along, and he’s nice. He’s attracted to you. He makes you laugh. It’s not like it’s your fault he turned out to be a shallow dickwad.”
I opened my eyes and looked around me. What the hell was I going to do about the floors? “Yes, he is a dickwad!” I grappled around in my pocket and pulled out my phone.
I pressed send on his number before Jazz realized what I was doing. She made a grab for the phone, and I scooted away just as it started ringing. I realized I’d never called him before. A voicemail clicked on, and Jack’s voice caressed my ear and said simply, “Leave a message.”
Grrr.
“You can’t growl at him!” Jazz said, her eyes wide, before slapping a hand over her mouth.
I hadn’t realized I’d done that out loud.
“Yes, I can. Grrrr,” I said loudly for good measure. “Grr, Jack. I am pissed. I am beyond pissed.”
I got to my feet and paced around the bare floors, my temper rising. “What the hell was all that Jack? And what on earth did you hope to accomplish by getting my floors done? Seriously? Did you think I would be so indebted to you I would do whatever you wanted? Sweet, innocent, little Keri Ann can be your bit on the side while you figure your Goddamn life out? Buy her affection with an extravagant gift? I am going to pay you back every last cent. I don’t owe anyone. I won’t owe anyone, ever. And don’t tell me it’s just a gift, Jack. That’s the kind of gift I can’t accept.”
I started laughing hysterically. “Perhaps you thought you could buy my virginity? Is that what kinky fetish is big in Hollywood these days?” I laughed again, though it sounded like a howl, and I realized I had tears running down my cheeks.
“Give me the damn phone!” Jazz hissed, practically tackling me to the ground. “You’re not making any sense!”
But I wasn’t done. Apparently I still had one last humiliating arrow in my quiver.
“You don’t just walk around the place paying people to fall in love with you so you don’t have to be lonely. Be lonely Jack. It’s character building. God knows you need it.” And I hung up.
Jazz was staring at me with her mouth open.
“My God, I hope you dialed a wrong number.”
I looked at her, probably with a similar look of dawning horror on my face.
“Oh shit,” I managed.
“Oh shit is right. You just pulled a major psycho stunt. On the up side, you’re drunk, and I think that’ll be pretty obvious to him, so perhaps he’ll just chalk it up to ... you being drunk.”
“And on the down side?” I asked. The up side was looking pretty dire to me right now. But the down side was that I had pretty much insulted him in every way I could.
A huge crack of thunder sounded outside making us both jump.
“Well, on the down side, you basically admitted to him you’re in love with him.”
Oh, that down side.
The lights flickered on and off.
“Oh fuckity, fuck. I think I’m going to need another margarita.”
“Honey, you need a hot shower and some pj’s before the power goes off. You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow when you wake up anyway, no need to make it worse. I’m going to fix us some hot chocolate.” Jazz pulled me into a quick hug, and then collected the offending margarita pitcher and glasses and stumbled her way to the kitchen. How did that girl keep a straight head on her shoulders? Oh man, I couldn’t believe what I had just done.
T W E N T Y