22. August
22
AUGUST
Chick turned on his stool to face her, his handsome smile widening. “Bernie Hudson? I’ve been hearing about you for years. It’s nice to finally meet the legend. I understand the three of us have some dragons to slay tonight.” He sent me a glance, his lips forming a small pout. “The lickable one is Kingston? Do we still hate him?”
Bernie snickered, immediately warming to the man beside her. “She did when she was thirteen.”
“I never hated him.” Okay, he’d told me that my crush on Wade was obvious and I needed to “tone that shit down,” so for a few months, I’d hated him. Then I’d moved away, turned fourteen and gotten on with my life. “He’s fine.”
“He really is,” Chick said with an eyebrow waggle.
“If you like great cheekbones and don’t remember the ‘what’s grosser than gross?’ phase he went through in middle school.” Bernie wrinkled her nose, apparently having flashbacks. “But he’s on our side, so he’s safe for tonight.”
“Safe from the two of you. I might have plans for him later. ”
Bernie’s expression turned wicked. “So, unlike August here, you do like trouble.”
“I adore it.”
It was a little wild, seeing them side by side. Despite their physical and geographical differences, my first best friend and my last had more in common with each other than they did with me. They were both strong willed and confident of their place in the world. Both unapologetically danced to the beat of their own drummers and, until recently, they were both ridiculously more successful in the hookup department than I was.
Chick nodded once and got off his stool. “They’re all staring at us. I’d say it’s time to make our entrance.”
“We are the main attraction,” Bernie agreed easily.
We moved through the tables, only half of which were full tonight, until we reached the familiar group.
As I set down the final tray, Chick raised his voice enough to be heard over the music and scattered conversations. “Is this where I sign up to be a Lemon?”
Gene looked up from the plate of nachos, his eyes moving from Bernie to Kingston to me in growing alarm. “Did I miss something again? A birthday or anniversary?”
Lucy slapped him on the shoulder. “This isn’t another intervention, buddy. You’re good.” He turned his attention to us to explain. “He forgot Morgan’s birthday once and we had to have words as a family.”
“Once,” Gene emphasized. “Only once. She didn’t care, but none of you ever let me forget it. Birthdays are pointless holidays, created to sell cards and candy.”
“That’s Valentine’s Day,” Lucy corrected.
“Why would you celebrate being born?” Gene continued, sounding ornery. “You didn’t have anything to do with it. Birthdays are basically participation trophies, and you know how I feel about those. ”
“You disapprove of them because they don’t build character,” Rick recited dutifully.
“Well, they don’t.”
“He could keep going like this for a while,” Bernie told Chick in an amused aside.
Lucy shook his head. “We’ve talked about this, Gene. Celebrating birthdays and anniversaries are the keys to a happy marriage.”
Gene frowned at him. “How do you know? You’re always in the doghouse. I celebrate my marriage every day. I don’t need a circle on the calendar to tell me to do it.”
I very tactfully neglected to point out how focused the three of them had been on their Lemons anniversary.
Partially rising from his seat, Gene held out his beefy hand to Chick. “Sorry about that. Chick, right? I heard you were coming for a visit. My wife says you work in the same industry her mother did, only you write for the movies?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“Nice.” He gestured to the seats across from him and his buddies and I somehow found myself bookended between a standoffish Wade and a fascinated Chick.
“What’s with the crowd?” Gene gave me an aggrieved look. “I thought we were finally talking about the race tonight.”
“We are. That’s why we’re all here,” Bernie answered for me.
“I told you she had caveats,” Lucy reminded him.
“Caveats,” Rick repeated glumly.
That tickled me, so I decided to go with it.
“Caveats.” I slapped my hand on the table for emphasis. “Three is usually the magic number, so now it’s true. But don’t worry. You’ll barely notice them.”
“Other than you taking a turn at the wheel—which I’m fine with, by the way,” Gene added dutifully, “what are we talking about here?”
“Let’s start him with something I know he’ll like.” Wade pointed his thumb at Kingston, who was straddling a backwards chair at the end of the table and fiddling with his camera. “Say hello to the man who’s making a documentary about you.”
I blinked. “Did we know about this?”
Bernie leaned around Chick. “Wade mentioned it on family night, remember? When you said Chick wanted to write about it?”
“Ah.” Right before my confrontation with Morgan, my drunken pity party and my sex-fest with Wade. No wonder I didn’t remember it.
“I was thinking of doing some interviews,” Chick said with a nod, now eyeing Kingston more as competition than a potential hookup. “This race sounds like a common-man, feel-good, underdog story that begs to be told.”
“That’s why I’m going to tell it,” Kingston responded smoothly. “Your last movie was about an alcoholic bounty hunter who was really a prince and his pansexual alien sidekick, right?”
Chick blinked at Kingston and, instead of looking insulted at the dig, he playfully fanned himself with his hand.
“He knows my work,” he whisper-shouted loud enough for the rest of the table to hear, making Bernie chuckle.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve got no problem with that,” Gene said, surprising absolutely no one. “I’ve always thought there should be a movie about us.”
Kingston gave Wade a wide Cheshire Cat smile.
“Rick feels that we’ve been rope-a-doped,” Lucy began tactfully.
Since Rick was merely staring at us with suspicion, either Lucy was psychic or they’d talked about their issues beforehand.
“We were here to nail down the car for the race, and now we’re…what? Adding team members? Starring in a reality show?” Lucy hesitated and then smoothed out his neatly trimmed beard. “On the other hand, we do look good on camera. Fine, we’ll be in yo ur documentary, Haywood. I won’t memorize lines though. I tell Gene all the time, I’m all about organic moments and improv comedy.”
“As long as you don’t aim your camera at August,” Chick teased, his knee bumping mine under the table.
I gave him A Look for throwing me under the bus, my already tense shoulders somewhere up around my ears. “I’m not afraid of cameras.”
“She used to run from them at book signings like they’d actually steal her soul,” he confided to all his new besties. “Evaded every video interview her publisher ever set up for her and rudely deleted candids from other people’s phones like she was on the run from the law.”
“She’s always been like that,” Bernie confided right back. “Her mother had more photo albums than I’ve ever seen in one place, but finding her in them after the age of ten is a Where’s Waldo situation. And getting her to stand still for a picture with me has always been next to impossible.”
“I take pictures,” I defended. “I like those Snapchat filters because they put makeup on for me.” And give me back the defined chin of a twenty-year-old. And sometimes kitten ears.
No one was listening.
“But she did that movie with us when you were kids.” Kingston sounded skeptical. “She was the star, if I remember correctly.”
“She wore a wrinkled-old-lady mask for that,” Bernie reminded him.
“You’re all snitches, this is slander and it’s not that big a deal,” I said, louder than I meant to. “I don’t take good pictures, that’s all. I never have.”
Unlike my mother, who’d looked like a fairy in every candid, and my photogenic sibling, who’d actually had a modeling job when she was fourteen, I was forever caught blinking or chewing or posing in a way that mysteriously created two extra chins with the occasional unibrow.
“That’s not true. I’ve got a good one right here.”
Every head slowly turned in Wade’s direction as he pulled out his faded leather wallet.
“One what?” Chick asked.
He looked disgruntled by the attention, but it didn’t stop him from passing a worn photo over to Chick. I tried to grab it and destroy the evidence out of habit, but they were both too fast for me.
My throat tightened. “Is that Mom’s wedding?”
I was on the beach, a long skirt flying behind me in the breeze, my hair down and my head thrown back in laughter.
“It’s an older one, I know. I have one of you with Phoebe too, from that housewarming party a few years back, but it’s on my computer.”
Wade had a picture of me in his wallet? He’d had it for years ?
Suddenly breathless, I glanced around, hoping no one could see the flush surging into my cheeks. The guys were all looking between us and each other with varying degrees of speculation. Gene seemed the most startled, though he covered it more quickly than I could.
It’s not only of you, I chided myself. Morgan and Bernie are both in the background.
Still, I was the focus of the image. And I didn’t remember it being in Mom’s wedding album. Had he taken it?
“Why don’t we get to August’s caveats?” Kingston said smoothly, unexpectedly saving the day.
“Everyone’s saying it now,” I joked, but I was game. The truth was, I only had one. But I was willing to make up a few to stop thinking about that photo and how it made me feel. “My main condition is that both Bernie and I will be driving in Jiminy for the race. And it won’t be for one or two pity laps either. We will be equal members of the team and involved in everything. Oh, and Chick will be an honorary, non-driving member.”
“No way,” Rick said immediately, and even from here, I could feel Bernie stiffen in her seat. She’d totally called that one. “August, I get, but we only have one car this time and the judges can make our lives miserable if we break the rules or let a reckless driver on the track. Think about the penalties Dave made us endure. Or any of the others we’ve seen over the years.”
“Penalties?” Chick asked with a worried glance in Bernie’s bristling direction.
Lucy immediately started counting them off. “They can stick you to the hood of your car with Saran Wrap and send you around the paddock, apologizing to every other team for being an asshole driver. Have you mime your crime, like Marcel Marceau. Put you in a Bob Ross wig and make you paint ‘happy trees’ on the hood of your own car.”
I’d read about a few of those. They sounded hysterical, though I supposed it wouldn’t be as funny if you were the one being punished.
“They once had a team walk behind their Judge-mobile and apologize every time they honked the horn,” Gene joined in, his expression mischievous. “Made another write ‘I will not pass under yellow’ a hundred times. And if you whine too much about it, you might have to chew on a pacifier for the length of your penalty.”
“Are you hearing this?” Chick whispered into my ear. “Whoever came up with this car race is my hero.”
“Are you calling me reckless?” Bernie finally asked Rick icily.
He looked her right in the eye. “You’re the one that got a ticket for reckless driving, remember?”
“I was sixteen, and you didn’t even know me then!”
“Enough.” Wade’s voice was calm, but he dropped his fist on the table to stop the crosstalk and forcefully get Rick’s attention. “ She’s one of the best drivers I know, and she’s in or you can get yourself a new mechanic right now.”
I subtly shivered from that show of sexy solidarity. I’d like to wrap up this meeting and have my way with this man as soon as possible, please and thank you.
“You didn’t want August driving,” Rick said petulantly.
“Because he loves Jiminy and I don’t have any experience yet,” I argued in Wade’s defense. “Bernie does.”
Rick narrowed his eyes at Gene and the others before shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “Your call.”
Chick slung an arm over Bernie’s shoulder and smiled devilishly. “You’re being invaded, fellas. Might as well accept defeat now and enjoy it in your beautiful new, yet obviously used and oddly affordable car.”
There was a long, pregnant pause while Gene studied Bernie thoughtfully.
“She could help with the judges,” he finally said. “Do something bendy with her yoga-fu.”
Rick reacted as if he’d been kicked in the face, and it put my writer vibes on high alert. I didn’t have to be good at people-watching (though I was) to see the antagonistic body language going on between Rick and Bernie. He was never cheerful, but he was rarely this bad, and she usually didn’t give a flying fig what anyone said or thought about her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were fighting off a mutual attraction. Or they’d already made out at a Christmas party and something had gone horribly wrong.
“You realize you’re discussing using my sister as a sex object for extra points right in front of me.” Wade was clearly not amused with my brother-in-law.
“I’m open to being objectified,” Bernie declared, her smile a thing of fierce beauty. “As long as you’re all open to finally winning a race after years of coming in thirtieth and only getting a participation trophy. Because that’s what I’m planning to do.”
“I want to be her,” Chick murmured.
So did I.
“Thirtieth is a great slot to come in,” Gene clapped back. “We earned that. Do you know how many drivers are out there?”
“Like I told August, we don’t do this for a trophy or the cash prize,” Lucy said serenely.
Wade nodded. “That’s because the cash prize is only somewhere between four and six hundred dollars, which is nothing compared to all the money you spend for entrance fees, car purchases, improvements, safety equipment and travel. And the head honchos pay it out with boxes of nickels or checks written on toilet seat covers.”
“I love every single word he’s saying. I should be recording this.” Chick was already rubbing his hands together.
“I am recording this,” Kingston reminded him in an undertone that had me subtly leaning back to get out of the shot. Unfortunately, Wade chose that moment to push back his chair and quietly excuse himself, phone in hand, leaving me totally exposed to the unforgiving lens.
“Lucy’s right. It’s the experience that’s priceless,” Gene insisted. “It’s months of preparation and brainstorming, followed by a few days of testing your endurance while spitting in the face of death because Fuck Cancer.”
“Fuck Cancer,” Rick and Lucy repeated together.
“It could also be about winning,” Bernie muttered under her breath.
“That’s good stuff,” Kingston praised them, tilting his camera in Gene’s direction. “Let’s recap. August will sell you a 1979 Volkswagen Beetle in perfect condition for a mere five bills in return for you getting two new drivers, a documentarian and this guy,” he gestured to Chick dismissively. “Anything else? ”
There were some things people never did besides putting Baby in a corner, and one of them was dismissing my best friend. I’d never seen it end well for anyone.
“One more thing.” Chick was back to glaring at the documentarian as he spoke. “August, Bernie and this guy will get a final say in the theme.”
We would?
Gene was already shaking his head. “I can agree to everything else but that. We’ve never had less time to get our shit together, and the theme has always been my job. I have files full of ideas that can be ready as soon as we shake on this deal.”
“Don’t be hasty.” Rick reached for the pitcher of beer and seemed to be hiding behind it. “That’s not a bad idea, Gene.”
“Yes.” Lucy was looking at Chick like he was his new favorite person. “I’m a yes for that, if we’re voting. Is this a vote? I vote yes.”
I remembered all the stories Lucy told me the night of the hurricane. How all of Gene’s themes were not only over the top, but so obscure that very few people ever got the joke unless he explained it in detail. Sometimes more than once. He was basically the abstract performance artist of Lemons.
They were probably hoping Chick wouldn’t be as intense about his ideas, but they didn’t know him like I did. “Over the top” was Chick’s middle name.
Clearly disgruntled, Gene stared at his friends. “I already bought my outfit on Amazon.”
“It’s one race, brother,” Lucy said, attempting to mollify him without sounding too excited.
Gene’s big shoulders drooped for a second before he visibly and graciously shrugged it off. “I can be reasonable. She’s saving our ass here, so she should have a say in the car’s first theme. But I know what the judges like, so hopefully the rest of you will be open to my advice.”
I’d had no idea Chick was going to add a caveat and no clue what theme we’d end up picking, but I knew how much Gene loved the process, and I loved my brother so, “We’ll run it all by you, I promise. And don’t forget, it is only one race. One and done.”
I got to my feet and held out my hand to him. “I have the title in my purse behind the bar. I’ll go get it now if we have a deal.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of folded cash.
“Deal,” he said as he handed it to me. “You’ll need to drop the car off at Wade’s shop tomorrow morning so he can get started right away.” He glanced around the table. “Where did he go?”
“Little boy’s room?” Lucy guessed.
“He’s missing the big moment when we welcome you to the team. Kingston, are you still recording this?”
“I’ll be right back.” I left them all toasting each other and walked over to Patty, the woman whose shift I’d been covering earlier.
“What’s up, August?”
“Did you see which way Wade went?”
“Back office for a phone call, I think.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I went through the doors, moving swiftly around the kegs and boxes of beer until I reached the small office where I’d been working on the billing. Sure enough, Wade was there. Standing by the desk and staring at the wall. I didn’t like how anxious his mood was making me feel.
“You missed the big cash exchange.” He turned his head and I waved the wad of twenties in front of me. “I’m loaded now. Not sure where I’ll spend it all.”
He didn’t smile.
“Okay, you’re being ridiculous.” I went to Phoebe’s small mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
“I’m not thirsty,” he said when I held it out to him .
“This isn’t for drinking,” I told him solemnly. “This is a flask containing the magical elixir of the honesty pool. Other names you may know it by are the Pool Confessional, the Truth Tub, and the Vat of Veracity. The point is, when we’re holding this, we have to be honest.”
“Did you say I was being ridiculous?” But his tone was softer and there was a small smile curving his lips. “What is it you want to be honest about?”
“Honestly? I’d like you to hold it and tell me what’s going on with you. You’ve been distant all day. Will you tell me what’s wrong, Wade? If you’re ready for things to be over between us, just tell me. I can take it.”
Saying it made my throat tighten, because I didn’t actually think I could take it. But I still needed to know.
He stepped forward and wrapped his wide hand over the bottle. Over mine. “Hell no, I’m nowhere near ready for that.”
Thank goodness.
“I’m having a bad day, that’s all. I was on the phone with Yvonne?—”
“Is she okay?” I asked anxiously.
“She’s fine. A few things happened today that rubbed me the wrong way and…well, I guess I liked having you all to myself, and things are getting in the way of that now. Your friend visiting. This race.”
I liked having him to myself too. “What rubbed you the wrong way?”
“It’s got nothing to do with us.” He blew out a breath and looked down at the water bottle thoughtfully. “That’s not true. Morgan knows about us now. She handled it fine. I think she was more surprised I said no to the house she found me.”
“She found you a house ?” Yes, I had a second of freaking out that my sister knew I was sleeping with Wade, but it was the other news that put all my nerves on high alert. If Morgan had set out to find Wade a house, it was probably exactly what he was looking for and at half the price. It would be too good for him to turn down or she wouldn’t have shown it to him, and I wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.
“I didn’t want to talk about that right now. How is this bottle working?” Wade asked before taking the water out of my hand and setting it to the side as if it actually had magical powers. “Look, she showed me some pictures and it wasn’t the right fit. Simple as that. The search continues.”
I tried not to look too relieved or feel too skeptical. It wasn’t the right fit? Was Morgan slipping? “Is there anything else?”
Instead of answering, he picked me up, turned and set me onto the desk, knocking the water onto the floor with my hip.
“Is this your way of changing the subject?” I asked when he wrapped my legs around him and stepped all the way into my space. “Do you not remember that most of the people we know are here and aware that we’ve gone missing?”
“You already made the deal. The guys will be too busy celebrating to care.”
He was dreaming. They’d care. Though I had no doubt Chick and Bernie would cover for us.
“It was a shitty day and I need a few minutes with you,” he admitted quietly, focusing his gaze on the finger tracing the underside of my breast until I groaned. “Finding time alone is about to become a daily issue.”
“We’ll make the time. And you did ask me to work here and then let your sister hire me to work more , so if you want to start pointing fingers about scheduling problems…” I tapped mine into the solid wall of his chest.
“Don’t remind me.” He leaned in, his breath hot on my neck, and the now-familiar desire gripped me tight enough to leave me gasping.
How did he do this? Pull at my heart strings with pictures in his wallet and then turn me mindless and sex starved with a single touch?
“We’ll make the time,” I repeated, tightening my legs around him and looking in his eyes.
“I have an idea on that score. I’m calling it the bed caveat.”
“Not you too.”
“Caveat. Caveat. I’ve said it three times so that makes it true.”
I laughed. “And what exactly does this idea entail, Wade?”
“You agree that I’m in your bed or you’re in mine every night.” His tone said he would accept no arguments. “It doesn’t matter if we’re too tired to do more than sleep, or we don’t see each other for the rest of the day. That’s the deal until we’re done. I live in the apartment, but I sleep beside you. I like falling asleep with you in my arms.”
Did swoons have a sound? Because I think I made one when he kissed me, his mouth ravaging mine while his hips pressed between my thighs. I wanted our clothes off. I wanted to be at home in bed with him right now instead of making out in an office, with only a thin door to shield us from the crowded bar.
I managed to turn my head and break our kiss. “Every night? That’s…” I panted when he thrust a little harder against me. “That’s big.”
“You keep saying that.” He had a wicked twinkle in his eye. “It’s good for my ego. Now say yes and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I suppose we can give it a try—” His lips were on mine again, and I pulled him close, giving as good as I got.
I’d written an exhibitionism scene in my book, but I’d never tried it before in real life. If he didn’t stop what he was doing, I might have to take the plunge.
“Boss, Patty told me you were back—” Frank screeched to a halt in the doorway as we broke apart. “Shit, okay, I’m leaving. Didn’t see a thing. All good. Great. ”
He was still muttering to himself as he closed the door behind him, but the spell had been broken.
When I shook with laughter, Wade frowned. “Why are you laughing? That kid is packed up in that kitchen like a veal every shift, but from what Phoebe says, he likes to talk to whoever will listen.”
I shrugged. “Let him. I’m not on the payroll. Bernie knows, which means Phoebe does. Chick knows. Morgan was really the only person I was trying to be circumspect around, and you told her, so...”
He was studying me closely. “You upset with me for letting it slip?”
“I don’t want to discuss it with her or anyone in detail, but it’s not like I’m worried about my reputation. Besides, slightly slutty beer-tender is a step up from slightly insane hermit who never wears a bra.”
His lips twitched at that. “Is that why you were laughing?”
“No. I was laughing because I was imagining you offering to give Frank one of those puppies to keep him quiet.”
“That’s not the worst idea.” He lowered me to my feet, his hands caressing my arms. “We have an agreement, then? I stay and we share a bed. Until and unless.”
“Until and unless,” I repeated dutifully, ignoring the twinge in my chest. I started to walk around him. “You said you had a few things rub you the wrong way, but then you distracted me. What was the other?”
“A text from my father.” I turned to face him, but he was already shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay, Gus? Not yet. Let’s get back out there before they send out a search party or Frank spills the beans.”