Page 5

5

Rose

Rose

I wake up with a mouth full of sawdust. I sit up and groan, my head swimming. Ah, hangover, my old friend. It’s been too long.

Rolling out of my blankets is a battle. They are determined to stay wrapped around my feet. I curse at them as they wrap tighter around me. In the end, only a full-blown tantrum gets me free.

I fall off the bed and hit the floor, but somehow it still counts as a victory. Then my head throbs again and I’m back to feeling grim.

I try to come around. I also try to remember what happened last night. Somewhere my phone is ringing. I need to answer it. No, it can wait. First, I need to stop feeling like death has taken over my soul.

It was the tequila. That was it. The wine was all right. No problems there. But then we moved onto shots and I was determined to win something. What was it? Most drunk. That was it.

I’m definitely winning most hungover .

How did I even get home? I’m guessing Caroline and Eddie brought me back, but there’s a big blank space between the bar and my bedroom.

I’m still dressed. My hair is insane, and I smeared makeup all over my face. My head is pounding, and I feel like I’m going to throw up any second.

What a splendid night! The kind of night that makes you glad to be alive. The kind of night where you forget about everything. What was it I was trying to forget?

And just like that, I’m back to cursing Dino Gianni. Knocking down the animal shelter to build a mansion. Who the hell does he think he is? If he was here right now,

I’d kick him in the balls and spit in his face. The asshole. Why can’t he go build his great big vacation home some place else? Why here? Why on top of the shelter?

My cellphone’s still ringing. I’m surprised it has any battery left. I look over to the bedside table and see it’s plugged into the charger. Did I remember to do that? Go me. Chalk one up for the home team.

I can’t get to my feet yet. It’s far too early for that. I shift my butt along the floor until I can reach out and grab my phone. The screen is too blurred for me to make out the number. I answer and try to speak. “Hello,” is the word I try to say. What comes out is, “Hurggh.”

I cough and try to clear my throat. There’s an open can of flat cola on the bedside table. I take a swig, swill it around my mouth, and then swallow. Then I try again. “Hello.”

“Rose Silver?”

“Yes, who is this?” My head throbs. I try putting the can against my forehead, but it’s not cold enough to help. What I need is fresh air. I need to get outside. Until my legs let me stand up without throwing up, that’s not happening. I lean back against the bed and close my eyes.

“Dino Gianni. I believe you recently received a casino chip for Gianni’s casino. Is that correct?”

“What? Wait. How the hell did you get this number?”

“Did you receive a casino chip for the value of ten thousand dollars?”

“Answer my question, asshole. Where’d you get my number from?”

“It’s easy to find. Did you or did you not receive a casino chip in the last couple of days? A present maybe?”

“How did you know that?”

“I would like to make you an offer, Miss Silver.”

“Let me guess, an offer I can’t refuse. Who are you, the Godfather?”

“Marry me tomorrow at noon.”

“Listen, I’m hungover, I’m tired and I’m not in the mood for dumb pranks. Whatever frat-boy joke this is, I’m not playing.”

I hang up and try to get to my feet. My head swims, but I manage it eventually. Sometimes it the insignificant victories that get you through the day. My phone is already ringing again.

I answer and resist yelling only because my head can’t take it. “Listen, douchebag, learn to take a hint. Go play your games somewhere else.”

“No games,” Dino replies, as I add several more curses in his direction. “No pranks. I will marry you tomorrow at noon.”

“Are you insane? Why, in the name of Saint Brendan of Fraser, would I agree to marry you?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll knock down the shelter and forget to rebuild it. Marry me and I will fulfil my promise.”

“So you think you can blackmail me into marrying you? That’s true love right there, gets me right in the middle of the chest. Maybe I’ll go to channel twenty-seven and tell them about your offer. See what slutty Carol Thompson thinks. Bang her after the interview, did you? Could see the way you two were making goo-goo eyes at each other on TV.”

“Don’t decide now. Take the day. I will be in touch at eight this evening for your answer.”

“Answer’s no, jerkwad.” I hang up again, turning my phone onto silent. I’m not having Mr. Psycho Stalker call me again.

I know it’s a prank but I don’t get it. Maybe it’ll make sense later on. I force myself downstairs and out the back door. The cool sea air hits me in an instant, and I shiver. Alcohol is quite the layering when it’s cold, but the booze has well and truly worn off.

I grab a blanket from inside and wrap it around me, sitting on one of the lawn chairs, waiting for my headache to ease off.

There’s a tension that I can’t shift. It’s because of him. How dare he suggest the only way he’d save the shelter is if I marry him? Proves Jenny wrong. I was right. All men are bastards. Liars and bastards. Fact.

I close my eyes and groan loudly. There’s a flicker in the corner of my mind. It’s a tiny image. Me and him. Married. Him wrapping me in his enormous arms and holding me tight. Him taking me over his knee to spank me.

Tying me down and doing things to me. Lots and lots of things. I always loved the idea of an older man doing that to me. Not that I’d ever tell anyone.

I shake my head. That’s a dumb thing to think about. He’s using me. I don’t know why and I don’t want to know. All I want is for him to leave me alone.

I head back inside. I need coffee. Ideally on a drip. The caffeine will help. I get myself an enormous mug and sit drinking it, staring at the TV. I don’t even know what’s on. My mind is elsewhere.

Once I can function, I get a shower and remove my makeup. I tie my hair up when I’m done, digging out my slobbiest clothes. It’s a comfort kind of day. No Dad. Nothing to do at the shelter. If he keeps his word.

All I need to do is recover.

I check my phone, but he hasn’t tried to ring again. Looks like he finally got the hint. There is a message on there from Caroline. Amelia has finally replied to me as well.

I check out Amelia’s first.

Hey, sorry super busy at the moment. Will check with Leo but am 100% certain all is fine with the contracts. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the plan, you can hate me for that. Had a lot to sort out with rebuilding. Will get back to you.

Then I read Caroline’s.

Checking you’re alive after last night. One of these days you’re going to get so wasted you just disappear, alco-girl. We’re getting breakfast at Clive’s if you want to join us?

I don’t bother getting changed. No need to dress up for those two. They’ve seen me in yoga pants and a fluffy pink sweater many times.

I head out, grabbing my sunglasses on the way. I’m in no mood for bright light at the minute. I go via the shelter just to check. No sign of any demolition crew.

I get to the diner and find my friends in the corner booth, making gooey eyes at each other. “Morning,” Eddie says when he spots me. “Pancakes are on the way if you want to get in on that. ”

“Suits me,” I say, waving to Clive. “Make us a milkshake, would you?”

“Would it kill you to say please?” he shouts back.

“Now,” I say with a grin.

He wags a finger at me. “I will spit in yours.”

I turn back to my friends and groan. “How are you two not hungover?”

Eddie answers. “We are.”

“Well then, how come you both look fine. I feel like death warmed up and then served on a pop tart.”

“You mean like Katy Perry? Get it? Pop tart. Because she sings pop.”

“Very good. A modern reference there for Mr. Glenn Miller fan.”

My milkshake is put in front of me, and Clive grimaces my way. “Hope you choke on it.”

“Love you, Clive.”

“Eurgh.” He walks away.

“Hey, funny story,” I say, pulling out my phone. “Guess who called me this morning?”

“Who?” Caroline asks.

“Dino Gianni.”

“No way. As in the hot guy off the TV last night?”

“As in the guy who’s knocking down the animal shelter, yes.”

“So, what did he want?”

“You will not believe this but he asked me to marry him.”

They both look at me like they’re waiting for the punchline.

“I’m serious,” I say.

“You sure you weren’t dreaming?”

I show her the call list. “That’s him right there. ”

“Why’d he call you twice?”

“Because I hung up on him.”

Eddie slides the phone back across the table. “Did he seriously ask you to marry him?”

I nod.

“And what did you say?”

“Told him to go fuck himself, of course.”

Caroline shakes her head. “I’ve got one word for you, Rose. Divorce settlement.”

“That’s two words.”

“Why not say yes? He’s clearly rich. You marry him, make sure you don’t sign a pre-nup. Then get lawyered up and take him to the cleaners. Could earn yourself a small fortune.”

“Wow.”

“That’s what I’m doing with this dumb ape.”

“Right here,” Eddie says. “I’m right here.”

“Shush, honey. I’ll still blow you after I clean out your bank accounts. For old time’s sake.”

“Gee, how romantic.”

I tap the table. “Can we get back to me for a second? Are you seriously saying I should say yes?”

“Well, I don’t know. I mean, it’s worth considering, isn’t it?”

“No, it is not. If I ever get married and that’s a big if, it’ll be for love, not because some douchebag in a suit is blackmailing me.”

“Blackmail? How is he blackmailing you?”

Clive reappears with an enormous plate of pancakes. He dumps them in the middle of the table and then walks off without another word.

“I love coming here,” Eddie says. “Such a friendly vibe. ”

“Shut up,” Caroline snaps at him before turning back to me. “What do you mean by blackmail?”

“He said that if I married him, he would rebuild the shelter like he promised, but if I didn’t, he wouldn’t.”

“Wow,” Caroline says, running a hand through her hair. “That’s quite the asshole move.”

“Yep.”

“But why you? Why would he even want to marry you?”

“I’ve no idea. I think it’s some kind of prank and I’m the punchline. He says I’ve got until eight tonight to decide. Now I know I started this, but can we talk about something else?”

We eat, and the conversation moves onto last night. Memories come back to me, helped by my friends reminiscing about what we got up to. The baseball cap they bought me for being Cardinal Chunderhead. The toilet bowl handstand. The flashing of my panties to the town statue.

Turns out they carried me home, exactly as I promised they wouldn’t need to. Put me to bed too and left my cellphone on charge before they went.

We finish lunch and agree to meet up at Larry’s tonight. They want to be there when I take the call at eight. I know what I’m going to say. I’m going to say no. There isn’t a chance in a million that I’ll agree to marry him. Not a shot in hell.