Ch. 19 – Jax
“ H OW COULD YOU?” wailed Everly. “YOU . . . YOU IMPUGNED RICO’S GOOD NAME!”
Jax stepped back from the door of her apartment. “Hello to you, too. Come on in.”
“Hi, Jax.” Layla stuck her head around Everly’s flailing arm.
“Tell. Me. Everything.” Everly stomped into Jax’s apartment. “And where’s this cat tree? I need to stress build.”
Jax had found the cat tower on sale on Amazon and when the box had arrived two days ago, she’d snapped a pic to show Layla and Everly she was intent on providing Styles with a more “cat nourishing environment.” She’d been surprised when both women had offered to help her assemble it Sunday morning before their volunteer shifts at the Yucca Hills Animal Rescue.
Now, under the glare of Everly’s radioactive stink eye, she wondered if inviting them over might have been a mistake.
“How could you write such . . . such slander about Rico?” Everly accused as she plopped onto Jax’s floor and immediately tore into the Amazon box with a vengeance.
Well, apparently someone had read Jax’s write-up of Rico, which Hopkins, her journalism professor, had gleefully published on the East County Caller website mere minutes after she’d emailed it to him. The man was the Caller ’s editor and apparently loved a side of takedown with his morning coffee. Who was Jax to second-guess his publishing decisions?
“I think the article speaks for itself,” she said flatly to Everly now.
“But it was so mean!” Everly ripped through a flap of the Amazon box. Today’s T-shirt read Cats Before Brats. In case the wording was too subtle, the shirt featured a checkmark next to a feline silhouette and an X next to a baby silhouette. Jax approved of the anti-human sentiment.
“Helloooooo, Styles,” Layla chirped as the spotted kitten wandered into the living room from Jax’s bedroom. “He already seems more friendly,” she noted approvingly, tossing her Rapunzel-like braid over her shoulder as she crouched down. She looked freakin’ adorable in her jean skirt overalls, floral print top, and matching headband covered in large fake roses.
“Whoooo’s getting their cone off tomorrow?” she cooed, giving the cat scritches behind his ears. “Whooooo’s getting their cone off? You are!”
“And your apartment smells better, too,” Everly added, momentarily distracted from her tirade.
Jax nodded. “He hasn’t been spraying at all since his surgery.”
Styles was still a little shit, though. Even though Jax was under orders to restrict the kitten’s activity, that was like asking California not to catch fire a dozen times a year. Crazy as ever, the cat indulged in zoomie benders in the middle of the night, leaping from the kitchen table to the top of the fridge, and gnawing the eyes off the stuffed animals in Haley’s room. Her roommate’s Kermit the Frog plushie now had something else to complain about besides being green .
“Have you been playing with him each night?” Layla asked as Styles practically ground his head into her hand. “Bengal cats have tons of energy. They need lots of outlets.”
“I know,” Jax grumbled as she grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen junk drawer and returned to the living room. “I . . . uh, have been meaning to play with him more.” And she totally would, as soon as she finished finals next week. Then she’d have the whole summer to pick up more hours at the winery and focus on her internship with the East County Caller . . . And apparently, play with a cat.
“Why are we still talking about this?” Everly grabbed the scissors from Jax and stabbed the cardboard box with unsettling enthusiasm. “The real question is how could you be so cruel to Rico?” She tore back a flap of the box like the Hulk peeling the roof off a Honda Civic.
“Did you not read the article?” Jax reached cautiously into the box and pulled out the directions. “He sent me a tennis dress. A bright pink, frilly tennis dress.”
Everly huffed as she started tossing platforms and plastic rods onto the floor. “Okay, so that wasn’t the slickest move, but, girl, you’ve got an amazing body. He probably just wanted you to show it off. Hell, if I had your body, I’d be at the beach in a string bikini every single day.”
Suddenly, Jax couldn’t read the words on the direction sheet. Darkness seeped into her chest. She had shown off her body before. In fact, with Haley’s nudging, she’d worn tight tank tops, short skirts, skintight jeans, even clingy tennis dresses.
“My clothes are comfortable,” she responded, patting her loose black corduroys. And safe.
“And that’s what’s important,” Layla said as she carefully laid out screws and lug nuts on the coffee table. “The only thing that matters is how you feel.” She gave Jax a bright smile. Who knew angels wore floral headbands ?
“Okay, okay, okay.” Everly waved her hands. “Change of subject.” She gave Jax a grilling stare that could break a criminal mastermind to pieces. “Did Rico smell good? I bet he smells amazing.”
“Everly!” Layla laughed “That’s not a change in topic.”
Styles jumped onto the coffee table and batted a screw to the floor. Layla made kissy faces at him as she picked it up and returned it to its pile.
“Yes, it is,” Everly responded stubbornly. “We were talking about how Jax completely misunderstood Rico and savaged his good name. Now we’re talking about how good Rico smells.”
Jax couldn’t help but smile. She stood, made her way to the kitchen, and returned with glasses of water for the women.
“He did smell good,” she admitted as she set down glasses of water on the coffee table. “His cameraman actually mentioned that as his best feature.”
“Lie!” Everly hollered. “Rico’s best feature is his ass, followed by his hair, then his eyes, then his smile, then maybe his smell. But I knew he smelled good.” She picked up a folded piece of fabric and gathered four short plastic rods. After perusing Layla’s neat piles, she plucked a handful of screws and lug nuts, and the silver fastener tool. “What was he like?” she asked. “Really?”
Jax held out the directions to her, which Everly ignored as she jammed a rod into the folded segment.
Sighing, Jax sat back and considered Layla’s question. “Arrogant, annoying, completely full of himself. I honestly couldn’t stand him.”
Layla coughed daintily and suddenly seemed intensely focused on sorting the pillars by size.
“What?” Jax asked her.
“Nothing.” Layla’s voice was soft as a mouse .
“Just tell us.” Everly set down a perfectly assembled hidey-hole. “You couldn’t lie if Jesus asked you to.”
“Jesus would never ask me to lie!” Layla looked appalled.
“What is it, Layla?” Jax asked again. She finally managed to locate the bottom platform.
“It’s just that . . . well, when I read the article, I kind of thought . . .” Layla took a long sip of water. She carefully set down the glass. “I kind of thought you liked him.”
“WHAT?” Jax squawked. “Did you even read the article? I compared his ego to the Hindenburg in paragraph six.”
“Holy shitakes, Layla’s right!” Everly’s eyes grew wide as dinner plates. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“There’s nothing to see.” Jax snatched the silver tool from Everly and started cranking on a screw.
“Oooooooh,” Everly hummed. Her knees started dancing up and down. “Your article was so mean. Too mean. You definitely have the hots for him.”
Jax cranked so hard on the tightening tool her palm ached “I can’t STAND Rico Torres. I don’t do romance, and even if I did, he’d be THE LAST person I’d ever date.”
Everly and Layla shared a look.
“It’s just like in Exit Wounds, ” Layla whispered.
“I was thinking the very same thing,” Everly confirmed.
“Oh my God, are you talking about that dumb romance book you’re all reading?” Jax accused. She dropped the silver tool in disgust. The screw jutted from the platform at an odd angle.
“First, the book is not dumb,” Everly snatched the platform from her lap and scooped the silver tool from the floor. “And, second, you’re just like Naomie.” Everly began loosening the screw. “She’s so angry at Vince for cheating on her with Abigail—”
“That’s Naomie’s sister,” Layla added.
“Right. And now they have to work together to solve Abigail’s murder.” Everly re-inserted the screw and, with a few flicks of the silver tool, had it perfectly attached in seconds. “Naomie keeps thinking she hates Vince. She always criticizes him, but it’s only because she still has feelings for him.”
“She’s in love with him,” Layla sighed.
“So, now I’m in love with Rico?” Jax groaned. This was getting out of hand. She’d be more likely to go skinny dipping at the National Mall than fall in love with a narcissistic prick like Rico Torres. Time to turn the tables. She looked at Everly. “If criticizing someone means you like them, then you’ve obviously got a hard-on for your landlord.”
“How dare you!” Everly crossed herself. “That man is a bitter fiend whose sole purpose is to ruin my life!”
“Well, your lease does say you’re only supposed to have two cats,” Layla murmured gently.
“Fostering kittens is my calling!” Everly set aside another completed segment and snatched up two more pillars. “I’m making the world a better place for all of feline kind. If he had even an ounce of love in his tiny Grinch heart, he’d understand that.”
To be fair, Hue Cairn was grumpy on his good days and a downright curmudgeon on his bad ones, but he’d always treated Jax fairly when he hung out at The Rose and Thorn. In fact, she rather liked his zero-shits-given attitude. He’d even helped her boot out unruly drunks on occasions when Theo wasn’t around to back her up.
But Jax didn’t bother defending Hue to Everly. The older woman seemed incapable of reason when it came to her landlord. And at least her Hue-induced tirade switched the conversation away from a certain arrogant reporter .
“He shows up unannounced to ‘check the appliances’ or ‘clean the gutters,’” she huffed. “But I know the truth. He’s trying to catch the kittens and throw me out on the streets!”
“The kittens you’re not supposed to have,” Layla whispered under her breath.
Jax wisely retreated to the couch, bowing out of the building process. Everly was a one-woman show. Pillars and platforms bloomed beneath her hands as Layla quickly handed her pieces like a nurse attending a doctor during open-heart surgery.
“But I’ve got half the condo community on my payroll,” Everly continued triumphantly. “A monthly batch of brownies goes a loooong way. I know Hue Cairn is on his way before he even starts that ancient claptrap truck of his.”
“Oh, Everly, won’t you two ever find a way to get along?” Layla sighed, handing over the final platform.
“Sure, when cows fly, hell freezes over, and cats and dogs sign an everlasting pact of friendship.” Everly held out her fist and dropped the silver tool like a mic. “Ta-da!”
“It’s beautiful,” Layla said, clasping her hands to her chest as she stared at the completed cat tower. “Styles is going to love it. Just put a little catnip on the platforms, and he’ll be playing on the tower in no time.” She turned to Jax. “What do you think?”
Gazing at the tower, Jax’s heart felt big and vulnerable. These two women had sacrificed two hours of their weekend to help her. And she wasn’t even a real member of the Crazy Cat Lady Club. Jax wasn’t used to this. To friends actually being nice. To friends giving instead of taking, taking, taking.
“Thanks for your help.” The words were soft, barely audible, but Jax meant them more than Layla and Everly could ever know .
“Of course.” Layla draped Jax in a warm embrace that smelled of peaches and sunshine.
“One more thing,” Everly said. “Even with the cat tree and daily play sessions, it’s still going to be difficult to keep Styles fully exercised in this small apartment, so—”
“We got you a gift!” Layla’s eyes sparkled as she dove into her ginormous purse. “Well, actually, two gifts.” She rooted around for a while, and Jax wondered if she might pull out a hat stand or a lamp, a la Mary Poppins.
“Here!” Layla re-emerged with two small objects covered in cat wrapping paper. Because of course.
“Is it a matching tennis dress for Styles?” Jax asked sarcastically.
“Something like that.” Everly smirked. “That one first.” She jabbed a finger at the square-shaped gift.
Jax took it, tore through the paper, and groaned. “Seriously?” she groused, gazing at a book cover featuring a man in a fedora, his shirt open to reveal gleaming pecs and washboard abs. He clutched a woman, her breasts barely contained by her flimsy, torn blouse.
Bullet Wounds, the cover read in scarlet, curling text.
“Just in case you needed something to read after finals,” Everly prompted with a snicker.
“It’s sooooo good,” Layla added. “You should join the book club, Jax!”
“Uh-huh.” Jax dropped the book, not-so-gently, on the coffee table.
“Okay, this is your real gift,” Everly said, plucking the second wrapped package from Layla and handing it to Jax.
“Well, this can’t be worse than the . . .” Jax’s words dried in her throat as she pulled apart the paper and registered the items in her hands. She laughed. “I stand corrected.” She looked to Layla and Everly. “This is a joke, right?” It had to be a joke . . .
The two women weren’t laughing.
Jax held out the small leash and harness. What the hell was she supposed to do with these?