Chapter 7
Seven
You can hear a pin drop over the bustle of the cafe.
Jen’s jaw literally dropped so far down her chin you could see her molars.
Paige’s eyes resembled bulging quail eggs.
My brain couldn’t comprehend his words at first.
We’re dating.
As in…
A couple.
In a relationship.
I don’t know how to feel about this. We’ve never even been on a first date. Unless this coffee date counts, in which case, I want a do-over because I’m not getting sufficiently romanced here.
I break the uncomfortable silence with a maniacal “Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Recovering from her shock, Jen whirls on me. “Are you shitting me? You never told us you were seeing anyone!”
“I-I- don’t know what to say.” Paige frowns at me. “You usually tell me everything.”
“She wanted to keep it a secret,” Elliot says, unfazed by their reactions. “On account of the…” he pauses for a second, his gaze shifting to the flyer plastered on the lamppost outside.
A vote for Holly Lo is a vote for the future.
“On account of the election,” he finishes. “You know how it is. Wouldn’t want all of Mapledale thinking she’s involved in any monkey business with fellow small business owners.”
Elliot is simultaneously a lying genius for finding a logical explanation for our involvement with each other… and just a plain jerk.
Monkey business?
I sniff, squaring my shoulders. I take offense to my reputation being sullied before my eyes.
Our audience looks to me for an explanation. At a loss for words, I offer a sheepish smile. “Um… surprise!”
“We’re surprised, alright,” Paige says.
Jen clears her throat. “What kind of monkey business are we talkin’ bout here?”
“The usual kind.” Transitioning to detective mode, Elliot flips open a page of his notebook. “When it was revealed your sister and I were an item, why did you say, and I quote, ‘Are you shitting me?’”
Jen frowns. “I was shocked.”
“It’s an interesting choice of words. ‘Shitting.’ Not ‘kidding.’ Just ‘shitting.’ Of all the words in the English language, you immediately settled on ‘shit.’ It’s a funny thing to say. Do you have something on your mind? Something feces related, perhaps?”
“I’m vulgar,” Jen shrugs. “Give me a break…” Suddenly she whirls on me. “Why do I feel like your boyfriend is interrogating me?”
“He’s a private eye,” I say. “He can’t help himself.”
Jen scrutinizes the two of us. “Something’s fishy here.”
“How do you mean?” Elliot asks, pen at the ready.
“You guys are …” Her eyes narrow. “Sitting across the table together. If you two were truly dating, Holly would be in your lap.”
Blood rushes to my ears. “I would not!”
Elliot’s attention shifts to me. “Do tell.”
“Holly is Ms. P.D.A.,” Jen says, checking over her shoulder. “Right, Paige?”
“She’s affectionate.” Paige glances down at her shoes and shrugs. “You’re usually affectionate,” she says to me.
“Holly likes attention,” Jen answers for her. “But then again, you already know that. She was hot and heavy with Brian, but with you…” She points at the cafe table separating Elliot and me. “Look at all this space.”
“It’s thirty inches.” I can’t help rolling my eyes. “You act as if it’s an Atlantic crossing.”
“What is this, anyway?” Jen asks. “A business meeting?”
“‘Hot and heavy’,” Elliot looks to me, the corner of his mouth twitching with barely suppressed amusement, “why aren’t we ‘hot and heavy’?”
“Don’t you remember?” I bat my lashes at him. “You’re still recovering from your accident.”
“Ah yes,” he says, not missing a beat, “my accident was so traumatic I must’ve blacked it out. Remind me what happened to me again?”
“Someone tried to snatch my purse on our trip to Atlantic City. You got in a tussle with my attacker and got a kicked in the groin,” I say, taking a sip of my latte, “leaving you temporarily impotent and frigid. Fortunately, after some extensive physical therapy, you’re finally regaining feeling…
down there.” I address the girls. “It’s a good thing he has other qualities to make up for his lack of, well, you know… ”
Elliot blinks several times, then gives me a grudging nod of admiration. “That’s… that’s… that’s a story.”
“That’s your story,” I say.
He utters a sigh. “Alright.” He cracks his knuckles. “Ladies. I’ve been injured. I’m numb. Numb in the nuts.”
“Darling,” I add with a cloying wrinkle of my nose, “you’re numb everywhere.”
“Well, at least you still love me.”
I have to hand it to Elliot. He’s taking this slight to his manhood very well. That just goes to show: it takes a real man to be unmanned and retain his sense of humor.
I cast a sideways glance at Elliot. “I don’t mind you,” I say softly.
Paige hides a smile behind her hand. “You’re very chivalrous, Elliot.”
Remembering our mission to remain undercover, I turn to my sister. “We want to keep Elliot’s condition a secret. Don’t go spreading it around town.”
Jen shakes her head. “Oh, never,” she says, but the mischievous glint in her eye tells me that all of Mapledale will know about the frigid Detective Frost by nightfall.
I sit back, pleased. I can get used to lying. I’m quite good if I put my mind to it.
“What kind of physical therapy does one do,” Jen asks, “to fix your …” we all look down at Elliot’s lap, “problem?”
“Deep tissue massages,” Elliot says without cracking a smile. “So Brian… the recipient of your hot & heavy affections,” he directs his question at me, “why does that name sound familiar?”
Paige clears her throat. “Brian is Jen’s fiancé.”
Elliot lifts his head. “We’re talking about two Brians, or…”
“Same person,” Paige says.
Clearly stunned by the bombshell, Elliot flips to a new page in his notebook. “Well, well… the plot thickens.”