Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
To Do:
- Pack
- Ask Tanya about prosperity magic
- Emergency preparedness- firenado?
“I wish you’d tell me where we’re going,” Claire said as acres of farmland flashed by her window. The roads on the outskirts of West Haven were much better maintained than the treacherous expanse of potholes that crisscrossed the city. “And why are we going to dinner at three p.m. on a Tuesday? I know we’re getting older, but I don’t think we’re quite at the early bird special stage yet. Is someone at the restaurant going to chew my food for me?”
“Not far.” Luke put a hand on her knee. “It’s going to be very romantic.”
Her mouth pressed into a hard line. The gala was in three days, and there were still so many details to be double-checked. If she forgot tablecloths or napkins because she was out at a romantic dinner with Luke, she would never forgive him.
“I can feel the tension radiating off you like a nuclear bomb,” he said. “For someone who spends their entire life planning marriage proposals, you really hate romance.”
“I don’t hate romance,” she said, perhaps a little too vehemently. “I just don’t have a lot of free time right now and being away from a computer stresses me out.”
Brad had changed his requested appetizers for the third time earlier that day and the local casino had had a last-minute snafu with renting out enough blackjack tables, which meant Claire had to drive to Wilkes-Barre to a different casino and beg the manager for help. Now two casinos were involved and it was impossible to pick which one had been more aggravating to deal with.
“You’re spreading yourself too thin. I woke up last night and you had one leg off the balcony railing and a kitchen knife tucked in your leggings,” Luke continued. “If you don’t get rid of some of this stress, you’re going to start sleepwalking into lakes and stealing tacos again.”
“It was one time!” She groaned, throwing up her hands.
He raised his eyebrows as he made a right-hand turn. The turn signal clicked accusingly.
“Okay, it was like five times. I have control over it now. Dr. Goulding has been a huge help.”
“Is that why you had a bottle of Fireball and half a pound of Lebanon bologna in your bra?”
She sighed. He had a point. “Fine. I’ll schedule another appointment.” But there was no way she was going on medication. What if she was so drug-addled that she missed an emergency client phone call?
“Damn straight.” Luke squeezed her knee. He made a left turn and pulled into a parking lot.
“Wait, why are we at your bank?”
“Just a quick stop before dinner.”
She glanced at her watch and crossed her arms. If she could have reached across the center console and murdered him in cold blood, she would have done it. They were never going to make it home at this rate. She settled into her seat. At least she could fire off a couple of emails while Luke was inside.
“Coming?” he asked as he climbed out of the car.
She gripped her phone like it had personally wronged her. “Why?”
He narrowed his sea green eyes. “They have the good lollipops here. Trust me, you’re going to want one.”
She lifted her gaze to the sky. Could she make it through this evening without strangling Luke? She couldn’t pull off any of her upcoming events from prison, so hopefully somewhere deep inside was an untapped pool of self-control. She flung off her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Anything to move this date night along.
They walked into the chilly foyer of the bank, and Claire hung back, tapping her foot on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she forced her hands out of tight fists. Dr. Goulding would probably suggest she practice mindfulness in a moment like this. Hmm. What would a mindful person think of right at this moment?
Don’t think about the past, don’t worry about the future. Whoever came up with the concept was clearly not an attempted-murder-victim-slash-proposal-planner.
She fixed her attention on Luke. Maybe the taut, round shape of his butt in those jeans would ground her in the present. Or the way the sinews in his forearms flexed when he reached across the counter. Great, now she was mindfully horny and pissed. Besides, there was no way a man was going to be the answer to a new, mindful Claire. That would have to come from within. Maybe on a less stressful day.
Luke leaned forward and said something to a teller, who came around the desk and escorted him across the bank. What fresh hell was this?
“Come on,” he said to Claire.
She followed him wordlessly.
“Vanessa? Your three o’clock is here.”
Who the hell was Vanessa?
A red-haired woman with a startling collection of porcelain angel figures littered across her desk looked up. “Oh, great! Come in, Mr. Islestorm. And Miss…?”
“Hartley. Claire Hartley.” What was going on?
“So you want to open a joint checking account.” Vanessa pulled her keyboard toward her.
Claire stared at Luke. He smiled. “Yes, that’s why we’re here.”
Claire kicked him behind the desk. He had never once mentioned opening a joint bank account. They each had their own accounts, and it had worked perfectly well up to this point. They had only been together for a year. What if Luke broke up with her and ran back to California and she was stuck with a bank account with both of their stupid names on it? Crap, she was thinking about the future again.
“Great,” Vanessa said. “Let’s just get some of the paperwork done.”
Forty minutes later, Claire walked out of the bank with a handful of temporary checks. They weighed down her purse like lead bricks. “You did this because you think I’m poor after taking out the loan,” she accused as soon as they walked outside.
“No,” Luke said, opening her car door and allowing her to step inside. “I did this because you insist on paying me rent, and it makes more sense for us to have a joint account to contribute to for household expenses. Especially while we’re on the other side of the country.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re lucky I have my social security number memorized. You should have asked me first.”
“You mean like when you asked me if you could bring home a blind pug?” He smirked.
He had a point. Dammit.
“One more stop before dinner,” he said with a smile. He was clearly enjoying making her squirm.
“I love you, but I’m going to have to murder you. You’ve given me no choice.” She pulled out her phone and flicked open the app they connected to their interior security cameras. Rosie and Winston were sleeping peacefully in the living room. Thank god.
“Can you wait until after the doc comes out, at least?” He shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Ugh, fine.” As they turned back onto the road, she stuck a hand in her purse. The checks were there, right next to her wallet, bag of dog biscuits, and Taser. She peeked at the corner and ran a thumb over the smooth paper. It was surreal to see their names right next to each other, the address of their first home below. Maybe she should finally spring for those personalized address labels.
Luke turned the music up—a hard rock band they had both listened to in high school—and they drove several more miles without speaking. She fought to fix her attention on the here and now, and the details that whirled endlessly in her mind like a sandstorm quieted.
When they turned into another parking lot, Claire sat forward in her seat and looked around. There weren’t any restaurants in this part of town. The only stores here were a bunch of tire and paint places and her second favorite spa.
“Is there a food truck somewhere?” she asked, leaning even farther forward.
“No. I lied. This is another pre-dinner stop.” He pulled into a parking lot in front of Endive Spa. “Just a twenty-minute hot stone massage.”
When she opened her mouth, he cut her off. “Don’t pretend like you don’t have twenty minutes. Let’s go.”
Claire glanced at her watch as she climbed out of the car. It was already four. He was really cutting into her evening prep time. How dare he be so thoughtful? And more importantly, how was she going to relax for this massage with a literal shitstorm of events hovering on the horizon like a hurricane?
Half an hour later, Claire waddled out of the spa feeling like she had just been cleansed from the inside out with pure, radiant sunshine.
“Better?” Luke asked when they got in the car.
She leaned across the console and kissed him full on the mouth. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that. Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry for being a grumpy, stress-fueled nightmare.”
He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You spend too much time trying to take care of everybody else. Now I know you’re antsy and ready to murder me, so we’ll pick up some takeout and head back home. What’ll it be?”
She considered for a nanosecond. “Greek.”
“Greek it is.” He drove off in the direction of downtown.
The two entered the restaurant and ordered at the counter. Minutes later, a teenage boy wearing a flannel shirt came out with a paper bag.
“Street taco!” he exclaimed.
“Jemarcus! I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“It’s not every day you run into a grown-ass woman eating a taco in her underwear in the middle of downtown.”
Her face grew hot. She had last met Jemarcus during her first sleepwalking experience. “How are you? Almost done with school?”
“Yep. I graduate the first week of June, and I’m headed to MIT in the fall for robotics. It’s the craziest thing, apparently at graduation I’m getting a $500 college scholarship from an anonymous donor.”
“Huh.” She brushed a dog hair off her dress, then took the bag from Jemarcus. “That is crazy. Congratulations! Don’t let robots take over the world.”
“See you later, street taco,” Jemarcus called as she and Luke exited the building.
“Mysterious anonymous donor, huh?” Luke put a hand on the small of her back.
“Kindness deserves to be rewarded. Besides, it’ll barely even be enough for his first semester’s books.” She shook her head.
Claire’s heart was lighter when they pulled into the driveway twenty minutes later. The bag of kebabs had filled the sedan with the tantalizing aroma of tzatziki and basil. As a bonus, they were a portable food so she could totally eat and type at the same time. All she needed to do was feed the dogs and then?—
“What the hell is that?” she asked. Luke tapped the brakes, and they both lurched forward.
“What?”
“Flowers. On the porch.” Her grip on the bag tightened. While a colorful bunch of tulips wasn’t a reason to upset the average person, Claire had been haunted by them since Barney had started stalking her.
Luke swore and his expression darkened. “Stay here. Let me check them out. Maybe they’re from one of the families.” The previous summer, the family of one of Barney’s victims had sent flowers to Luke’s house. Claire had nearly flung them into the yard.
He shut his car door and locked the vehicle.
Okay, there was no reason to panic. They were probably from someone else. People sent flowers for no reason all the time. Maybe a distant Hartley relative had died and Mindy had gotten a Google alert about it. They could be from the studio or a client?—
Her phone dinged, and she glanced at the screen. There was a picture message from Brianna, and a group text between Charlie and Alice. She opened Brianna’s message first.
Brianna: So pretty! These from you? XOXO .
The bottom dropped out of Claire’s stomach. A nearly identical bouquet of tulips sat on Brianna’s front steps.
Claire’s hand trembled as she backed out of Brianna’s message and opened the group text between her mom and sister. She already knew what she would find.
Alice: Beautiful flowers! Your stepdad is so romantic.
Charlie: Weird, I got some too .
Luke turned back to her as he approached the bundle of flowers. She shook her head and lifted her phone. It was already ringing.