Chapter 31
I thought about going upstairs in my purple dress but decided underwear might be in order for this particular visit. I’d left my underwear as Malone’s pocket square—no wonder Lucius had given me such a strange look—and I didn’t need to further contribute to the delinquency of a minor.
So I was in a T-shirt and shorts when I knocked on April’s apartment door. Luckily, Addie answered.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” I said with my most winning smile.
It didn’t faze the teen in front of me. “You can’t come in. Mom ran to the store, and we’re not allowed to have anyone in the apartment when she’s gone. I wouldn’t have opened the door except it was you.”
And the fact I owed her twenty dollars couldn’t have hurt.
“I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to say thank you for looking out for Bren—BB, and to pay you,” I said as I took a crisp twenty from my back pocket. “And, ah . . .”
She took the twenty. “Yes?”
“Well, remember when I told you that Mr. Malone didn’t like Taylor Swift?”
She leaned against the doorframe, arms across her chest, chin jutted forward. “And?”
“I had him confused with his cousin.”
As soon as the words left my lips, I knew she wouldn’t believe them. Funny thing about the truth, sometimes the truest things are those people have the hardest time believing.
“It’s not nice to lie,” she said.
I winced. I never lied without crossing my fingers behind my back. Childish? Yes, but also a good reminder to not lie unless I absolutely had to. “It wasn’t a lie so much as . . . ‘Vigilante Shit.’”
Her eyes got wide at the reference to a Taylor Swift song. “That’s right! Mom said you’re a detective.”
“I am.”
“Still, if he’s a nice guy, then I shouldn’t have sent the bugs.”
“I know, I know. At any rate, Mr. Malone sent me to fess up. He said to tell you . . .” I paused because I felt the groan coming on, and I would just have to swallow it. “He said to tell you that he likes Taylor Swift ‘All Too Well.’ Anything to the contrary is just a ‘Hoax.’”
Her eyes brightened with a level of hero worship that made me wonder if Malone would prefer her antipathy to her adoration. “He said that?”
“Direct quote. I’ve apologized to him, and I would like to apologize to you. Please forgive me for misleading you. Oh, and please don’t unleash any more ladybugs.”
Her smile could only be described as impish.
“And please pull the plug on any other little pranks you may have planned. I mean, I don’t want you to get in trouble, and please don’t tell your mom I said this, but”—I made a big show of looking right and then left—“your ladybug plan was ingenious.”
“Really?” Her voice lilted with excitement, but then she remembered all too quickly that she was supposed to be mad at me. Her tone shifted from enthusiastic to sarcastic. “You really think so?”
“Really.”
We stared at each other, and I made a solemn vow to never attempt to use a middle schooler to do my dirty work for me ever again. Too unpredictable. Between the roller coaster of puberty and the horrors of middle school, children of that age were not to be trifled with.
Her eyes narrowed. “And what about you, Miss Stella? Do you like Taylor Swift?”
“I wouldn’t claim to be an expert, but I enjoy her work. I hope there’s no ‘Bad Blood’ between you and me.”
Nope. Didn’t move the needle.
Song must’ve been too mainstream.
Think, Stella, think. Taylor Swift songs. You know Taylor Swift songs. If he can do it, then you can, too.
“Uh, ‘This Is Me Trying’?”
“And?”
Truly, thirteen-year-olds were the most terrifying creatures on the planet. Were my palms sweating?
Assert your dominance, Stella.
“‘No Body, No Crime.’”
She nodded with all the solemnity of a Yalie welcoming someone to the Skull and Bones society. Relief washed over me.
“Maybe I’ll send an apology pizza up one day next week,” I said as I backed away from the door.
Enthusiasm lit Addie’s eyes for the briefest of moments before she adjusted to cool and added loftily, “I think that would officially make us even.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing and waved before turning for the stairs. The apartment door closed as I descended, and I allowed myself a quiet giggle.
Kids, man.
That Addie needed to look into law. Or maybe just go straight to being a fixer.
My phone buzzed.
Meet Salcedo and me at the Waffle House at midnight.
Another summons. With Malone out of pocket, what else did I have to do other than worry about him and finish my homework?
Once again, I was the first person at the Waffle House.
“How’s the plantar fasciitis, Betty?”
“Bah. Those stretches you taught me do help, but I think the only thing that’s going to cure it is retiring.”
“You’re probably right,” I said at the same time Jasper said, “You’re never going to retire. I’m gonna have to cart you out to the dumpster at the end of your shift one night.”
“Watch yourself, Beanpole,” she said. “I’m not in the mood for your mess tonight.”
“Trouble in paradise?” I asked as I slid into my customary booth.
“I’m tired of him,” she said.
“I heard that,” he called from his station in front of the griddle.
“I meant for you to,” she yelled over her shoulder before turning back to me. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, you know . . . paralegal homework, found a kitten, PI stuff . . .” And getting most deliciously laid but then having multiple existential crises about the whole thing because I apparently suffer from foreboding joy, a thing I learned from Brené Brown, the author, not the cat.
Why enjoy things when you could spend your time waiting for the other metaphorical shoe to drop?
“Huh.” Betty stared through me as though she’d read my mind and decided it was a scary place.
“True story.” I held up both hands in surrender.
“Worried you’d moved off to Alaska or something since I hadn’t seen you.”
“C’mon, Betty. I can’t come in here every night. I gotta work. Bills to pay and all that.”
“Whatever,” she said as she hobbled away. “Coffee? Chicken biscuit? Hashbrowns scattered?”
“You know me so well.”
Havisham said something to Salcedo as they entered the Waffle House. They each slid into the booth across from me. With a sigh, I took the fifty from my pocket and slapped it on the table in front of Havisham.
Salcedo literally squealed.
Havisham palmed the fifty and smiled, something she didn’t do that often. “I’m so proud of you, Stark.”
“How was it?” asked Salcedo.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“One, you aren’t a lady,” said Havisham. “Two, only gentlemen are bound by that stricture.”
“Well,” I said, but then the words didn’t come to me.
Salcedo clamped a hand on Havisham’s arm. “She’s blushing! Look at her! She’s blushing!”
“I knew you weren’t telling me everything,” said Betty, who’d appeared by our booth. “What were you really up to?”
“Getting laid,” Havisham said.
Betty whooped. “You hear that, Jasper?”
“Hear what?” he called over the sizzle of his griddle.
“Oh, you never mind,” she said before taking the rest of our orders. We waited until we had our drinks, napkins, and silverware before returning to the discussion.
“Again I ask you, how was it?” Salcedo practically leaned over the table. At least she could keep her voice down when asking questions, though.
“Both the best and the worst of my life,” I said.
“You make no sense, Stark.” Havisham took a sip of coffee.
“It was absolutely the best sex of my life, but also the worst because now I am ruined for all other men. Here I agreed to a friends-with-benefits situation, and he’s going back to California . . . so I’ll just have to enjoy it while I can.”
Havisham arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“Did you not hear a word I just said? It’s like getting a taste of the best chocolate cake you’ve ever eaten while knowing you’ll never get to have that particular cake ever again.”
“Heard it all,” she said at the same time Salcedo said, “The contract can be renegotiated. Long distance is a thing. At least until you get tired of us and move to California.”
“Y’all make this sound easy.”
“Because it could be,” said Salcedo with all the optimism of her youth.
“Well, there are other complications,” I said.
“Spill,” said Havisham. So I told them about how Trista’s job had turned into a different task altogether, about how Blake had sneaked into Malone’s apartment and was trying to throw us under the bus, about the gala, all of it.
“And I have two—well, make that one day to figure out how I’m going to talk Ken into giving me the title to my car.”
“How much do you have?”
“Six thousand five hundred.”
Havisham reached into her back pocket. “I thought that might be the case. Here’s a loan of five hundred dollars.”
“Havisham, you don’t have to do that. I can ask my nana.”
“If you do, there will be strings attached. Take it from me. I know you’ll be good for it.”
Mercy, was I crying again?
“You okay?” asked Salcedo as I swiped a tear.
“It’s this damn book y’all have me reading,” I said. “I keep feeling things.”
“Kinda the point,” Havisham said at the same time Salcedo patted my hand.
“Well, feelings are gross and inconvenient and painful. I don’t like them.”
Betty appeared at that moment with plates of food, so Salcedo jerked her hand back before saying, “But if you can’t feel the painful emotions, you’ll never feel the pleasant ones.”
Out of the mouths of babes.
Even so. “What if I prefer being on an even keel?”
Havisham cackled. “We’re women. We’re never on an even keel.
I mean, we should get more credit for functioning in this dysfunctional world while also experiencing fluctuating hormones, but we don’t.
Take my word for it: It’s better to lean in to the roller coaster of life than to hold yourself stiff against the restraints. ”
“That’s profoundly beautiful, Havisham. I still don’t want to.”
“Riddle me this, Stark: What exactly can you do to prevent bad things from happening to you?”
“Prepare for the worst and stock up on Malbec.”
“The first doesn’t do you any good, and the second is called ‘numbing.’”
“Oh, I know what ‘numbing’ is, thank you very much,” I snapped. “It’s in the book. But maybe I like numbing.”
Salcedo had been watching our discussion, her head going back and forth like she was a spectator at the world’s tiniest tennis match. Finally, she spoke. “Why don’t you just tell Malone how you feel?”
Havisham and I looked at her and then at each other. We both burst out laughing.
“No thank you,” I said. “He suggested a temporary arrangement, and I will honor it.”
“What if he feels the same way you do? What if he only suggested something no strings attached because he thought that was all he could get?”
“Then he can tell me.”
She sighed in exasperation and turned her attention back to her hashbrown bowl.
“But I may want you to shut down the website,” I said.
Both looked up in wonder, but it was Havisham who asked, “Why?”
“It’s fun to think I can facilitate karma, but”—I paused, searching for words—“it’s not my place. Heck, the original concept of karma suggests that we might not see the results of our actions in this lifetime, that it might be a future one.”
“Believe in reincarnation now, Stark?”
“I’m just one mortal on this planet. What do I know about how the universe operates?”
“Whoa,” said Salcedo, eyes wide, at the same time Havisham narrowed her eyes and asked, “Are you reading books on philosophy and theology now?”
I sighed. “No, it’s just that some of the things I did seem a bit mean in retrospect.”
“They had it coming,” Havisham said.
“So far as I know, but who am I to know?”
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Havisham asked, “What are you going to do, then?”
I shrugged. “As soon as I catch up on my loans, I think I can cobble together a comfortable life between PI work and paralegal work, and that suits me. I like the flexibility of it, and I do like helping people. The only question is how to get the Douchecanoe to sign over my car title.”
Salcedo nodded. “If you’re sure, then I’ll take the site down.”
“After I’ve paid everything off,” I said. “No need to jinx it. But thank you for putting it all together. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Yeah, well, if it weren’t for you, I would’ve lost my virginity to an asshole.”
Havisham dropped her fork.
“I know, I know,” Salcedo said as she rolled her eyes. “That’s outdated terminology, but Stark probably saved me from at least twelve STDs.”
Havisham shook her head. “At this point, don’t sleep with anyone until you’re twenty.”
Salcedo arched an eyebrow that said she would do as she pleased, then turned to me. “Anyway . . .”
“Yes.”
“We called you here for a few reasons. We missed you. But I also decided to stay here in Georgia. My mother is beside herself, but she understands why I might not want to transfer schools, which is all to ask if your offer still stands.”
“Absolutely.”
She grinned. “Good, because I may need to start moving in this weekend.”
“All right, then,” I said.
“Before I forget, did you draw up the plan for my girlfriend whose roommate is driving her batty? That would be another fifty dollars toward your goal.”
“I’ll get it to you before lunch tomorrow,” I said. “But you just give that money to Havisham as part of my repayment.”
“Bah, I’m not worried about it,” Havisham said with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re not the only one getting laid around here.”
“The cowboy?”
She nodded.
“Is he also a billionaire philanthropist?”
“Eh, millionaire, and he’s definitely a giver in all the areas of life that count.”
This made me think of Malone and his “Ladies First” philosophy of life.
“She’s blushing again,” Salcedo stage-whispered.
“You’ll understand soon enough,” Havisham said.
Our younger compatriot rolled her eyes. “Please.”