Layne cut her off. “Listen, I don’t give a shit about that. I been in this business a long time, people do shit, shit they gotta do. I get that. You didn’t have to fuck my woman’s husband though, not ever but especially not for the reasons you did it. That’s not cool.”
Her eyes brightened and she took three steps forward, saying, “But, I’ve heard about you and her, in the ‘burg people talk about it. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had the chance –”
“Maybe you’re right,” he cut her off and the way he spoke, she stopped moving. “But you made her feel like garbage. You made her the chump. You caused her pain. I’m glad she’s rid of that asshole but I’m not down with that.”
“Then why?” Marissa asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Why what?” Layne asked back.
“Why didn’t you… why did you…?” She stopped and started again. “I got two hundred thousand dollars from him and he let me keep the ‘vette. Mr. Glover told me what to say, how to play it, he helped me get it.”
“Mr. Glover’s got a soft spot for people who’re tryin’ to turn their lives around,” Layne returned.
She stared at him and as she did it, her stare turned shrewd.
Then she whispered, “You do too.”
“Come again?”
“You have a soft spot too.”
Layne took a deep breath into his nose then exhaled. What he didn’t do was reply.
Marissa Gibbons took the hint, nodded, turned and walked to the door. She had it opened when she turned back and locked eyes with him.
“I didn’t tell Social Services, but he pimped me out too,” she announced and Layne felt his stomach turn and his chest squeeze but she couldn’t know that so she went on to say more shit he really did not want to hear. “Never, back then, when someone was pumping away at me and I didn’t know anything but that it hurt so bad, it hurt so bad that was all I could think about, never did I think I’d have soft sheets and a fancy car and beautiful clothes and live in a house right on a lake. I got that shot and you’re right, I didn’t think about her, I jumped at it. And you know what?” she finished on a question.
“What?” Layne prompted when she didn’t go on, why he did not know.
“It was the same thing, some guy I didn’t like pumping away at me, just in soft sheets and it didn’t hurt so bad because I’ve long since discovered the wonders of lube.”
“Ms. Gibbons –” Layne started.
“One day,” Marissa said over him, “I was suckin’ cock while someone was filmin’ and thinkin’ about this social worker I had. She was young. She was pretty. She had a big, honkin’ engagement ring on her finger. And she was nice, she cared. She got me in a good foster home that I stayed in until they moved out of state and I got lost in the system again because that social worker got married and changed jobs and I was fucked… again. And I was suckin’ cock and thinkin’ I’d rather be sitting at a desk, wearin’ an engagement ring and makin’ sure girls like me didn’t end up suckin’ cock. I started to find the path then lost my way.” She held his eyes and finished, “Then you and Mr. Glover helped me find it again.”
“Marissa,” Layne murmured and she lifted a hand and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
“You know anyone that wants a nearly new ‘vette, I’m sellin’,” she declared, turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.
One second elapsed, Layne muttered, “Fuck,” then he dropped his arms and followed her.
When he was standing on the landing outside the door, he called, “Marissa.”
She was mostly down the stairs but on hearing her name, hand on the banister, she turned and looked up at him.
“Don’t lose your way again,” he warned and her face, which had filled with expectation, closed off.
“Right,” she muttered and started to turn away but stopped when Layne spoke.
“You start thinkin’ of goin’ that way, I’m not goin’ anywhere for awhile. You find me, I’ll buy you a Mimi’s and talk you out of it.”
And that’s when Layne witnessed it. What Astley saw in her. What he wanted. It wasn’t the hair, the similar features. It was her mouth getting soft, in doing so it changed everything about her. She didn’t speak with her eyes like Rocky did but it was close to what Rocky could give with just one look and it was nice.
“Soft spot,” she whispered, turned and part walked, part skipped down the rest of the steps and out the front door.
The door didn’t close all the way before a hand was on it, pulling it open and Layne saw Vera move into the doorframe, her head turned to watch Marissa walk away.
Layne looked to the ceiling and implored on a mutter, “Kill me.”
“Hi honey!” Vera called.
Layne looked down at his mother. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I’m so glad I caught you in the office,” she stated, walking up the stairs, carrying a white cup with brown cardboard wrapped around it, she stopped, looked at her cup and then looked up at him. “Do you want a coffee? I just stopped in to get one and then decided to try your office and –”
“Ma, what are you doin’ here?”
She started walking again, muttering, “Yeesh. Someone’s in a bad mood even after having a meeting with a pretty girl.”
Jesus. That shit was going to hit Rocky next.
“She’s an ex-porn movie bit player who just fleeced Jarrod Astley for two hundred K. She’s pretty but she’s not my type,” Layne informed her, his mother stopped two stairs down from him and her mouth was hanging open.
Then she whispered, “Porn?”
“Ex-porn. She’s straight now. So, now that we got that sorted, I’ll repeat, what the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“You say the f-word too much, Tanner Layne,” Vera snapped.
“Ma,” Layne growled.
She looked at the door then to him. “Can we go in your office?”
“Will that make you tell me what you’re doin’ here?” Layne countered.
“Yes,” she answered.
Layne sighed. Then he walked into his office and his mother followed. He went straight to the reception desk and sat on it. She went straight to the couch and settled in like they were going to shoot the shit for the next hour.
“Ma,” Layne prompted.