Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“Hi, uh, this message is for Katie. It’s Frank. Frank Hartigan. We need to talk. I’m working tomorrow but am off today. Call me.”
“Hey it’s Frank. Leave a message at the beep.”
“Oh man. Did I get the message mixed up? I thought you said you were off tomorrow, which is now today. Silly me. Anyway, I’ve made the arrangements with Marino’s to have food delivered to Marinos for the party. See you Friday night.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“Nice try. We both know you didn’t get the days mixed up. Good on Marinos and Marino’s. I got the decorations and I’ll pick up the podium.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“Bwack. Bwack. Bwack.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“That was me calling you a chicken. We still need to talk. I mean if you want me to leave a detailed message about the other night, I can. Just figured you may not have told Connie yet. Maybe I’m wrong?”
“Hey it’s Frank. Leave a message at the beep.”
“Don’t you dare say a word. If you do, I’ll tell everyone at the fire station that you wear days-of-the-week underwear.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“Days-of-the-week underwear is pretty specific. Are you telling me that you wear days-of-the-week underwear? Interesting. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow when you meet me at Marinos to decorate before Fitz’s party.”
“Hey it’s Frank. Leave a message at the beep.”
“So, can you believe I have a parent who wants to have a meeting after school? I’m afraid I can’t help decorate.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Connie ? —"
“And Katie. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
“I’m assuming since you just left me a message—I was in the shower—that you’re home, screening your calls. I can only take from that, and from this supposed meeting that’s going to last for hours, that you’re avoiding me. That’s okay, I can leave a detailed message with everything I needed to tell you about ? —"
H eart racing and cheeks on fire from embarrassment, Katie grabbed the phone receiver at the same time that she hit the stop button on the answering machine that had become the bane of her existence. “Don’t you dare.”
The phone cord wasn’t long enough to reach into the bathroom, or her bedroom, and Connie wasn’t making even a half-hearted attempt to not look like she was enjoying herself.
Her sister wrapped the quilt their grandma had made for them as a housewarming gift tighter around her shoulders, and settled into the corner of the couch closest to where the phone hung on the wall. Yeah, the phone was in the kitchen, but the apartment was the size of a postage stamp, so it wasn’t like her twin wouldn’t be able to overhear every word.
God help her, Katie was going to kill Frank.
“So you are at home,” Frank said, giving her the grin.
No, she couldn’t see him, but she knew he was doing it. She could just tell. It was as apparent in his voice as his working-class Waterbury accent.
“I was indisposed.” She turned her back to Connie before her sister could non-verbally call her out on that lie, and twisted the phone cord around her finger.
“Does that mean you weren’t staring at the machine, listening, as I left a message?”
Yes, she had been—she’d been like some deer stuck in the headlights, all big eyes and empty head.
“You know you’re really full of yourself,” she said, sounding about a third as badass as she should, even to her own ears. “Not everything is about you.”
“You’re right, this is about us…and our equal share of party prep. Do you really have a parent meeting tomorrow?”
Oh God. Lying on his machine had been hard enough. Lying to him over the phone was impossible. So she fudged it. “Not anymore.”
“Great. I’ll see you at Marinos at six. That gives us an hour to set up before everyone arrives. Which should be plenty of time, unless you want to put moves on me?”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. What was it with this man that messed with her can-do so much?
“Have you been thinking about me, Katie?” he asked, his voice hitting that same low gravelly tone as he’d used when he’d told her to get off on his leg. “And since we both know the answer to that is yes, what have you been doing while you’ve been thinking?”
“I gotta go,” she stammered out, her palms sweaty and her mouth suddenly dry.
“I bet you do,” he said, as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking and doing and wanting since the movie. “See you tomorrow, Katie.”
He hung up, and she just sort of gulped air like a goldfish tossed out of the bowl as she leaned against the kitchen wall, afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her if she attempted to stand on her own. She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm her pulse, but all that did was move her chest so her hard nipples rubbed against her neon T-shirt. That reminded her of how he’d brushed his knuckles against her boobs. It was over the sweater, but damn he might as well have touched them with the way it had made her feel and?—
“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” Connie said, emphasizing her pronouncement by snapping her Juicy Fruit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Katie said as she hung up the phone and walked out into the living room.
“Liar,” Connie scoffed.
Katie flopped down on the other end of their hand-me-down couch and tucked her chilled toes under the corner of Connie’s blanket before letting out a sigh. “He just sees me as another notch on his bedpost.”
Her sister didn’t say anything, but her face sure did. Katie braced herself for whatever her twin was about to say.
“That’s the best story you can tell yourself to justify not giving him a chance?” Connie asked. “This is Frank Hartigan we’re talking about. The guy who has been giving you cow eyes since high school? The one who helped me out at Marinos when I was at my lowest? The guy who fixed your car door and taillight?” She paused and shot Katie a knowing look. “The one who went to Halloween with you? Yeah, we heard allllllllllll about that.”
The couch was old and the springs were extra pokey in spots, but Katie didn’t think it would open up and eat her. Which was a pity, because that was the only way this conversation was going to end well for her. “Who’s we?”
Connie flashed an evil smirk. “Just your brothers and sisters, and our source who saw you two making out in the parking lot.”
“It wasn’t me,” she said, not even sounding convincing to her own ears.
Connie’s laugh filled their small apartment and made a pair of pigeons that had been sitting on their windowsill take flight. “Oh Heather was far away, but it’s hard to mistake Frank Hartigan for anyone else, and your hair makes you pretty distinctive.”
Not for the first time in her life, Katie wished she’d taken after the petite, dark-haired side of the Madigans instead of the tall redheaded side. But she was basically looking into a mirror, so maybe there was hope of getting out of this? “We’re twins. It could have been you.”
“But it wasn’t, and we both know it,” Connie said. “You like him and that’s freaking you out.”
“It is not.” It was it so very was.
Connie triumphantly raised her pillow above her head like a trophy and hollered, “Then you admit that you like him.”
Katie spluttered, trying to find the words to get herself out of this, and there just weren’t any. So she did what any self-respecting woman would do when losing an argument with her sister—she threw the pillow she’d been clutching to her chest at her, and then retreated to her room for some peace, and quiet, and, yes, at least one self-induced orgasm where her fantasy man, formerly played by the model in the International Male catalog, was instead a six-six redhead who had her spread out, naked, on the hood of her Pinto with his face between her thighs.