She looked impressed.
“Another good friend of mine is Waldo here.” I motioned to the red-faced kid.
She looked at him with more than a little interest. “Really?”
“Really good friend. You should get to know him.” I stood up. “Take my seat.”
She sat down, and I almost laughed when Waldo began to pitch a small tent in his pants. It was quite possibly the first time any girl had looked at him that way.
I opened my wallet and handed Waldo three hundred dollar bills. “Take this girl somewhere nice, treat her good,” I instructed. I’m not sure whose eyes lit up more, hers or his.
“Thanks, man.”
I held out a fist, and he bumped it. “No, thank you.”
I gave him a wink and headed toward the door.
The sun was already coming up, so I grabbed two large coffees and a pack of chocolate donuts from the convenience store and headed back towards the hotel, feeling much better. I hesitated outside of Holly’s room but went on to my own.
I unlocked my door, went inside and stripped out of my clothes, still feeling the energy from my buzz. The last thing I needed was for Holly to smell weed on me, or booze for that matter. I was turning over a new leaf. Last night was a stress reliever, a much needed stress reliever. From here on out, I would walk life on the straight and narrow.
I showered, scrubbed under my nails, brushed my teeth, and exfoliated my pores to get the stench of the alcohol off my skin. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and lifted the coffee to my lips.
My phone was lit up. It was Eve.
“Hello?”
She was screaming and crying, a raging lunatic I couldn’t understand.
“Calm down,” I tried to get a word in edgewise, but it was impossible when she was upset.
“Listen to me, I told you I’d talk to the funeral director, and I will. The damn place isn’t even open yet. I’ll go there as soon as they do.”
Money. That’s all her hysterics were about.
She sniffed. “You promise? He wants to be cremated, do you have a problem with that?”
“No problem. I’ll handle everything.”
I disconnected the call and dropped my face into my hands before forcing myself back to my feet and over to Holly’s room, the coffee and donuts in my hands.
She was sitting up, but still looked sleepy. “Good morning beautiful,” I said and handed her a cup.
“Thank you.” She blew a kiss at me as she quickly lifted the coffee to her lips. “When did you get up?”
This was where it got sticky. If she woke up at any point last night and noticed I wasn’t there, what I said could incriminate me pretty badly. If I told her I went out, she’d want to know where I went. If I told her I’d gone to my room, she might have gotten up sometime during the night and knocked.
This is why I never had girlfriends.
To distract her from her question, I opened the donuts and handed her one. Then another when the first was swallowed in less than two seconds.
“My sister called and I’ll need to head to the funeral home later to make arrangements. He wanted to be cremated.” Saying it aloud made my chest hurt.
“Want me to go with you?” she asked, and I smiled.
“Yeah.”
She rose from the bed and walked over to me, taking me tight in her arms, offering me her warm comfort. When she pulled back into bed, I went with her. Fucked her. Made love to her. Then fucked her again.
Maybe if I could distract her enough, she wouldn’t see the ugliness still flowing through my veins like a hungry monster chewing on my last ounce of integrity.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Holly
Ace was acting strange, distant even. I brushed my hair, added some lipstick, and stepped back to look at myself in the mirror.
“You ready?” Ace peeked into the room. “Wow, you look beautiful.”
My black dress was modest but still a little too sexy for a funeral. I wanted to change, but I hadn’t brought anything else. I should have taken more time to find the right dress.
“Are you sure?” I asked as he kissed the back of my neck.
He nodded, but his shit-eating grin didn’t ease my worries of the dress being a little inappropriate.
The ceremony was short, just a few words from the director of the funeral home. Mr. Newman was dressed, presented in the casket as if he was going to be placed in the ground. After we left, he would be cremated, placed in an urn, and then the three siblings could start their arguing over where to place his ashes.
Ace was solemn throughout the ceremony. Eve was loudly crying, blowing her nose every few seconds. Brady looked to be complacent in an eerie way.
From the corner of my eye, I could see paparazzi cameras just outside the windows. They swarmed the entrance, and Ace appeared more anxious than usual at their presence. I understood it was his father’s funeral, and he wanted privacy, but they were always pushing into his personal life. He just normally handled it with more confidence. Today, his hands were shaking as he pulled the Porsche out of the small parking lot.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded, but I wasn’t convinced.
He turned on the radio so we could listen to the game. The Beasts had just taken the field against the Blue Jays. Maybe that was the problem. He was missing opening day, but it felt like more than just that.
Missing his touch, I reached over and placed my hand on the one resting on the gear shift. It was clammy, cold, and still quivering. I looked at his face, studying the involuntary twitches around his eyes and mouth, the pale skin, and the sweat beading up on his forehead.
“Are you high?” I asked softly.
He jerked his hand away from mine. “No, I’m not fuckin’ high. Nice, Holly.” He was so agitated that his voice cracked when he spoke.
I was going to ask him if he was sick, but he turned up the radio and the game blared through the speakers, shutting me down from asking any more questions. It was a long ride home.
He pulled up in front of Whitney and Calvin’s and helped me out of the car. He pulled my suitcase from the trunk and reached for my hand. He walked me to the door of my little cottage, seeing it for the first time.
“This is really nice,” he said, looking around, his hands deep in his pockets.
It had been a rough day, so I was trying my best to not take his coldness or his agitation personally, but it wasn’t easy.
I unlocked the door, walked inside, and motioned for Ace to put the suitcase on the living room floor. I moved towards him, sliding my arms around his waist and gave him a long, tight hug. His hands caressed my back, his head pressed down against mine, but I could still feel the vibration under his skin.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my face pressed against his hard chest.
“Me too,” he said softly.
I lifted my head, stared up at him as he looked down at me so sadly. “What are you sorry for?”
“Everything.”
“Ace, I’m worried about you. You look sick.”
He really did. Still pale. Still shaky.