Chapter Fourteen #2
“You’re not wrong,” Juliette said, “and I suppose my teacher was wise enough to recognize that. She sent me to an actual ceramic studio and everything. But it turns out, pulling walls is really fucking hard work, and trying to pull walls for a twenty-inch vase was almost impossible. I kept starting over and over and over, and I just could not get it. I was furious. I’d never failed at anything in my life.
My parents were coming to that show, and I’d already shared the sketches for my grand design.
I couldn’t just put up some lame bowl or something.
I had to make that vase work. I convinced the studio owner to let me stay overnight and I worked on that thing until my hands cramped.
But I finally, finally got it where I wanted. It was a triumph.”
Charlie cocked his head to the side. “Is this like those job interviews where they tell you to list one of your biggest flaws and you describe one of your strengths disguised as a flaw? Are you telling me your most embarrassing story is just you having to actually work at something?”
Juliette held up a finger. “The story isn’t done yet. The raw clay was my greatest triumph, but I forgot one key thing about firing ceramic. Shrinkage.”
Charlie physically recoiled. “Uh-oh.”
“Yes, George Costanza’s nightmare. Clay shrinks when it’s fired, and professionals know to account for that.
But fifteen-year-old Juliette did not. My lovely, tall vase shriveled and withered significantly, until it was a good six inches shorter than when I started.
Fifteen-year-old Juliette also did not know how to properly glaze her ceramics, and I chose a rather unfortunate pale pink shade as my final color.
So what was supposed to be my grand showstopper piece ended up looking like …
the only way I can describe it is a half-melted, lumpy penis. ”
Charlie grimaced. “I’m sure your parents were just proud of their daughter’s artistic endeavors?”
Juliette gave him a frank look. “That’s because you’ve never met my parents. They were convinced I’d done it on purpose.”
“Why?” Charlie asked, confused.
Juliette shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
She hadn’t meant to share that part, but Charlie was a good listener.
It had just slipped out. “Ah, you know, the usual teen stuff. I was acting out a lot at that time. I know, shocking to hear that I had issues with authority. But it was shocking for them at the time, and I couldn’t make them understand I’d really tried my best.”
Her parents had left the show early and refused to speak to her for a week, departing for one of their speaking engagements in frigid silence.
It also hadn’t helped that Juniper had painted a stunning (if somewhat reductive, in Juliette’s opinion) portrait of her mother that her father bought for ten thousand dollars in a very showy display, as if their daughter were the next Georgia O’Keeffe.
Juliette had taken her lumpy vase home and smashed it later that evening, alone and furious.
“Needless to say,” Juliette said in a breezy tone she didn’t feel, “I never picked up another hobby again.”
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Charlie said. “Hobbies are where most people find their passions.”
“Well, my passion is my job,” Juliette said, miffed at the connotation that she was lacking in passion. “I don’t need a hobby, because I’m not a child or a retiree. I work, and I work out. I’m good at both. Speaking of which—”
Charlie shook his head, raining powdered sugar everywhere. “I told you, I can’t help you get into the club. I appreciate that you seem to be in a bind over this thing, and I certainly would never want to see a murderer go free. But this really feels like a matter for the police.”
So much for her feminine wiles. Time to try blunt force aggression; she was much better at that. “Charlie, listen—”
“Well, well, Charlie Hawkins,” said a voice behind her, interrupting her flow.
Charlie’s expression cycled through surprise, irritation, and something that looked like fear in the matter of a split second, before finally settling into a tight, unwelcoming smile. “Rajiv. I didn’t realize you were scheduled today.”
Juliette swiveled in her chair to face the tall Indian man behind her with impossibly white teeth and a head of hair that even Elvis would envy.
He would have been handsome if it weren’t for the smirk that marred his features as he looked down on Charlie.
He was exactly the kind of asshole she’d match with in a dating app, but something about the way he was looking at Charlie just now made her want to elbow him in the gut.
“Yeah, got called in for an emergency transplant,” Rajiv said, stretching out his pecs as he did so.
Was he flexing? Juliette felt like he was definitely flexing.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but it was a member of the state legislature.
Gotta call in the big guns on a procedure like that.
I heard you had an aortic aneurysm repair that went wonky this morning. ”
Charlie’s expression soured. “There was a complication, but the team managed it.”
“The team, right,” Rajiv said with a snort. “Good thing Dr. Campbell was there, huh? So, you going to this shindig at the Pines tomorrow? Or weren’t you invited?”
If Charlie’s face got any tighter Juliette could have played a drum solo on his cheeks. “I have two surgeries scheduled. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”
“Sure, sure,” Rajiv said, pasting that shit-eating grin back on.
“Too bad, I heard the board’s gonna be there, even crusty old Henderson.
Probably scoping out potential replacements for Dr. Campbell when he retires next year.
Don’t worry, old boy, I’ll put in a good word for you. And I’ll tell Kat you said hi.”
Rajiv slapped Charlie on the shoulder and gave a laugh, swiping one of the beignets from his box and popping it in his mouth whole as he walked away.
“Who the hell was that douche nozzle?” Juliette asked as he left the break room with his long, confident stride. “And why did you not immediately murder him for stealing a beignet?”
Charlie sighed, his face going slack as he looked down at his beignets despondently. “Rajiv Nazeem. He and I were fellows together here when I first came to America. We’re … friends. I guess.”
“If that’s a friend, I hope you don’t have enemies,” Juliette said. “Who is Kat?”
Charlie’s face went gray. “What?”
“He said he’d tell Kat hi. Who is Kat?”
“Katarina is … was…” He cleared his throat. “Katarina was my girlfriend. We … she … we’re broken up.”
Juliette’s brows went up in mock surprise. “Your long-term, super-committed relationship ended? I could have saved you the trouble and told you that’s how they all go. But why is that asshat bringing her up?”
Charlie looked to the ceiling, as if divine intervention might save him from the mortification of delivering his next line. “Apparently Kat and Rajiv are … seeing each other.”
“What?” Juliette asked, loudly enough to draw the attention of a nearby cluster of doctors.
“Please keep your voice down,” Charlie said, looking ready to expire. “It’s fine, really. I’m … fine. With it. Katarina is her own person, and she can date whomever she likes. Including … Rajiv.”
“Yeah, and that’s why you look like you’re chewing glass right now. Why don’t you just admit you hate the guy and pour expired milk in his locker?”
“I don’t hate him, we’re … colleagues. I respect his work acumen. It’s just a bit of friendly ribbing, is all. Rajiv has always been like that.”
“Ah,” Juliette said, understanding dawning on her. “He’s your Juniper.”
“My what?”
“Your rival. You know, trying to outdo each other, vying for the attention of the other doctors, winning the coveted award for best surgery or whatever. I don’t really know how fellowships work.”
“No, you clearly don’t.”
“So, who won?”
Charlie lifted another donut. “Who won what?”
Juliette rolled her eyes. “The rivalry. Come on, you both must have been competitive over something. An award, a job, teacher’s pet. Something.”
Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “We did both apply for the position at my practice, but there was only one opening. The board said I had a more positive attitude.”
“Good for you,” Juliette said, slugging him in the shoulder. “Ah, but he had to one-up you, didn’t he? You took his job, so he took your girl. You know what this means?”
“That I really need to get back to work?”
“That you need to get revenge,” Juliette said, pounding a fist on the table for emphasis.
“That doesn’t sound like what I need.”
“You only say that because you’ve never gotten revenge, so you don’t understand how good it can feel.
” Juliette had sustained her own fantasies of revenge against Juniper for over a decade now, and she needed that missing manuscript to make them a reality.
“Rajiv just said there’s some big doctor party at the Pines tomorrow, right?
Here’s what we’re doing to do. You’re going to RSVP yes, and bring me as your plus-one—”
“I am not doing either one of those things—”
“—AND I am going to find out who killed Warren and get my missing manuscript back. Then we’re going to get revenge on that asshat and your ex.”
Charlie shook his head. “Juliette, I told you—”
“I know what you told me, but trust me when I say this is my sweet spot. You’re in my territory now. Can you really say that nowhere deep down in that rule-loving, law-abiding soul of yours, you don’t wish the both of them could feel just the teensiest bit of remorse?”
Charlie eyed her, his frown cycling through depths of disapproval and contemplation. When he reached for the final donut, his frown collapsing, she knew she had him. “No one can get hurt.”
“Physically, or emotionally?”
“Physically,” Charlie said, his tone severe. “Though now I’m inclined to also say emotionally, depending on how far you’re planning to go.”
“As far as I need to,” Juliette said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Charlie huffed out a breath. “This is a terrible idea.”
“Of course it is, all the best revenges are terrible. So, are you in? Solve a murder, get revenge, eat expensive shrimp?”
Juliette put out a hand to seal the deal, though Charlie didn’t take it right away.
He looked at her instead, the intensity of his stare doing funny things to the exposed expanse of her thighs tucked under the table.
She could just feel the brush of his pants against her calves, the long length of his strong hands only inches from hers.
Charlie looked at her as if he was making a deal with the devil, but she wasn’t so sure she wasn’t, too.
“Fine,” he said finally, sliding his fingers against hers and cupping them around her hand, sending sparks up her arm. “We have a deal.”