Chapter Two
A HAMMER reverberated inside my skull. “Ugh.”
“Good morning!” Sam’s British voice bounced from my throbbing eyes to my tingling toes. “Time to rise and shine, sleepy heads!”
A groan echoed mine from not far away. Thank goodness I wasn’t alone in Hell.
“For the love of all that’s holy. Shut your woman up, Ally,” I grumbled.
I heard a chuckle and moved my head in that direction. Not a great move. I whined another moan before opening my eyes. Ally’s bloodshot gaze met mine from the across the rooms floor as she mumbled, “She’s a morning person.”
“Lord, save us,” I gave a fervent prayer.
Ally laughed then belched. She turned an unattractive shade of green as Sam walked in setting two steaming plates on the coffee table above our heads.
Smelled like home cooked goodies. Also, smelled like she was trying to make us puke. I hated morning people.
“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, people.
Time to get up, up, up,” she chirped, walking back out of the room.
Okay, so I hated afternoon people. Anyone who was overly cheerful, really.
Each time her foot landed it shook the ground and I figured I had best get up before I blew chunks all over her carpet, southern style.
Ally stayed prone on the floor while I crawled away. “Bathroom?”
“Down the hall, second door on your left,” Sam spoke from their kitchen in a sing-song voice. I wished I’d had time to grab my pistol before leaving Boverington. It would have come in handy right about now.
I must have been scowling because Ally mumbled, “Don’t even think about it.”
“You’re no darn fun.” I grinned at her before turning the corner and crawled/dragged my sorry behind to the bathroom and promptly prayed to the porcelain God. Next time I would stick to the tequila. Much better for my system.
Once I finished up there, I felt much better.
With a freshly washed face and brushed teeth, fortuitously there was a brand new tooth brush available, I made my way into the living room in an upright position.
Ah, progress. The food didn’t smell a whole lot better, but I ate it anyway since Sam had gone to the trouble of making it for us.
Ally picked at hers, moving slowly and booting up her laptop.
Sam plunked down next to me – yeah! – and dug into her own torture – food – while I tried to keep mine down. Yippie skippy.
“Love, what are you looking up?” Sam asked while taking a small bite of her over easy eggs. My tummy rolled and I looked away. Was the woman doing it on purpose? I snuck a glance at her out of the corner of my eye and noticed a twitch to her lovely lips. Oh, yeah. Sneaky one.
“I’m on Brent’s website. I heard around town that he has a show coming up, but I couldn’t remember the date.” Ally took a slow breath in and out. Her pretty face turning from green to white. Better.
“Brent Terrance?” Sam asked, hopefulness shining in her eyes. “You’re old friend from Louisiana? I would love to see his work. Every time I’ve asked to go to one of his events you’ve said no. Why now?” A hesitation. She glanced at me and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“You’ve never been to his shows?” I asked her in surprise.
“No,” her answer was curt and she resumed eating. Ally caught my eye and shook her head slightly. Oops. Forgot. Ally had said she hadn’t spoken to Brent since he found out about Sam. I bet Sam didn’t know the entire reason why she hadn’t met him.
“Well, I haven’t seen him in five years,” I offered, hoping to make her feel better. Why? Not a darn clue. She was my replacement, after all, but she had a side to her that was tough. No one gets tough without having to get there the hard way. “We can all go and see and meet him. Sound good?”
She looked away from the bread and butter she was getting ready to bite into.
She studied me silently. Moments ticked by and I felt increasingly nervous.
I didn’t really know her. I rarely ever talked to anyone candidly that I hadn’t known for some time or about a subject that I felt strong about.
Finally when I started fiddling with my shirt she asked, “You aren’t here to try to take away Ally from me, are you? ”
“Samantha Blake!” Ally screeched from her seat, but I held up a stopping hand. This was bound to be asked sometime. At least she’d had the balls to do it in front of Ally.
“No. I wouldn’t risk her happiness with you,” I said quietly and honestly. “I am here, though, to be near my friend. You don’t want to get in the middle of that, just like I won’t get in the middle of your relationship.”
We both stared one another down while Ally got up and paced back and forth next to us, like she was getting ready to jump into a cat fight.
I wouldn’t do that to her. This was the woman she loved.
I wouldn’t try to harm her, unless Sam did something stupid, of course.
Hopefully, Sam was of the same mind, since I really couldn’t take her on.
Too big for me. If I ever had to fight the woman, I would have to do it with more brains than brawn.
“Good enough answer, Sam?” I asked softly.
Her eyes sparkled in the light, but she nodded. She wasn’t completely satisfied, but she wasn’t going to brawl. Good.
Ally sighed in exasperation, but kissed Sam on the cheek. Guess she thought she was the bigger threat. Well…‘cause she was.
Ally picked up her cellphone and started dialing while I sat back and drank my water. Sam had brought coffee out, but I hated the stuff. Too bad. It didn’t smell half bad.
I listened to Ally purchase three tickets to the Brent’s event and tried not to get too excited.
Brent and I hadn’t talked as much as Ally and I had over the years since he was so busy and out of the country often.
I had no clue if he had moved on. I was hoping he hadn’t, but it had been nine years with only one visit stuck in the middle. Plus, he was a real catch.
He and three of his army buddies started up a security company here in New York, that was making major bank and on the side he took pictures and sold them at his own venues.
He was doing great, just like I had hoped he would by getting out of Boverington – population 2,132.
The last time I had seen him was when he gave me my very last gift five years ago after he had gotten out of the Army.
It was only a coincidence that Ally and Brent had ended up in the same city.
She had work in Dallas, Texas for a year before being promoted in her marketing job and they had transferred her to New York.
She and Brent had only met a few times here in the city – at least, that’s what they told me – and since she wasn’t into men at all, I knew they hadn’t done anything sexually without me.
I had always been the glue that had held us together.
And when I couldn’t follow with them, we had torn.
Or more specifically, it had been me that had ripped down the middle.
They had waited as long as they could, but momma had taken too long to succumb to her lung cancer. Horrible of me to say to most folk, but then they hadn’t known her. Or the bastard. I pushed thoughts of him away. I didn’t want to focus any undue attention on him. Not worth it.
“When’s his event?” Sam inquired and I could tell she was trying to hold back her enthusiasm. Had Brent become so much, that he inspired people like this? If so, would he even want to see me again? I hadn’t done a whole lot with my life, other than endure. That had taken most of my energy.
Ally hesitated. Then she looked right at me. “Tonight.”
***
“You aren’t wearing that, are you?” Sam’s accented thickened when I walked into the living room where they both waited.
“Sam!” Ally exclaimed and rushed on to say to me, “You look wonderful, honey.”
My head dropped so I could take another gander at my outfit. Okay, so I was a walking, talking, southern contradiction. I didn’t go for the southern flare that so many belles down south did. I was pure Goth – depending on my mood.
Tonight, I didn’t want to stick out so much, so I had went for a silver strapless shirt that hugged my size B cups perfectly.
It looked like it had been splattered with black and red paint sporadically and hung over my black, slitted skirt perfectly.
The slits ran up each leg to thigh level.
I had on thigh-high knit sock in silver and clunky, black army boots that went to my knees.
The slits showed maybe two inches on bare skin between where my socks ended and the top of the skirts material.
A knitted, black open sweater covered my shoulders to my elbows and all of my back, hanging loosely to where my shirt ended.
I had a black, satin choker on that I thought looked great with my sleek, straight red hair that was cut severely at an inch below chin level.
My bangs gave me a chic look and my dark make-up was the norm.
Well, maybe I had applied silver to my lids a little heavily, but it matched my shirt and made my crystal, blue eyes shine.
I had worked hard on getting this outfit right, but now looking at what Sam and Ally wore I wasn’t so sure.
I didn’t even own anything like what they were dressed in.
They each wore cocktail dresses. One black.
One white. They looked elegant and classy.
They made me feel tacky and coarse and completely underdressed.
I had never been to a New York art venue before, but I hadn’t thought I had been too far off the mark.
My family came from money, so everything I wore cost a bundle, but my style was nothing compared to what they wore.
Or maybe it was how they held themselves.
Confident and sure. Not exactly how I was feeling at the moment.
I tugged at the bottom of my shirt. “Maybe you have something that would fit me?” Doubtful, since they were so much taller, but if Sam thought I should change, perhaps I should.