Page 19

Chapter Eighteen

–––

The Racket

I’m the last person who would ever claim to be a relationship expert; prior to this, my longest had lasted two months and ended spectacularly badly. But I have picked up a few things that I’d love to share:

When you wake up in a motel room and your partner refuses to speak to you or make eye contact, it generally means that they’re upset. And if they’re just muttering to themselves in German while throwing you the occasional dirty look? Also not a great sign!

When you check your watch and realize you’ve got ten minutes to shower, change, and get to a bridesmaid dress fitting, so you don’t have time to dive into a long apology? Well, if that’s the case, you might as well embrace the fact that your relationship could end right now!

But it’s not as if I didn’t try. I rolled over and immediately said, “I am so, so sorry, Kat.”

Kat was already awake and fuming. She sat against the headboard, laptop propped on her knees, probably searching for flights back to San Francisco. She threw me a withering look, then turned her attention back to her computer.

“Um, dog or cat? Or hey, what if we throw a third option into the mix, like an iguana?”

“I do not want to play,” she said curtly.

The clock to her right read 12:45, which meant that even if I left immediately, I was going to be late.

“Are you looking at the clock?” she asked accusingly.

“No! I mean…” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “It’s just…I’m supposed to meet Dot and Marcella for the fitting, and so while I really, really want to explain—”

She glared at me and shouted, “Really?!” Then she slammed her laptop shut and stormed off to the bathroom, muttering under her breath.

Tentatively, I went over and rapped on the door with my knuckles. “Um, Kat?”

No answer. Which was problematic, because I really needed to pee. And brush my teeth and shower. Or at the very least, slather on some deodorant. And everything I needed to accomplish those things was locked in the bathroom with her.

But it seemed like explaining that would not go over well in the current climate. I leaned my forehead against the door and swore softly to myself. Then I called out, “Listen, I get that you’re pissed, and you have every right to be. I’ll be back soon, and I swear I’ll make it up to you then. Okay?”

No response. I found a wet nap in my backpack and quickly smeared it under my arms, hoping it made a dent in my burgeoning ripeness. Then I left, making a quick pit stop at the lobby bathroom on my way out.

So yeah, not winning any girlfriend-of-the-year awards.

———

“Oh, honey, you didn’t ,” Dot gasped, hand to her mouth.

“Well, that explains the stank,” Marcella said with a smirk.

“Sorry,” I muttered, sinking down even farther in the tatty armchair. We were ensconced in a costume design shop near the Strip. Giant headdresses lined the walls, overlooking four battered worktables, a dozen dress forms clad in little more than strands of pearls and feathers, and racks filled with beads, chains, and zippers. If I hadn’t been feeling so despondent over the state of my personal life, I would’ve been enjoying how cool this all was.

True to form, Dot wasn’t getting mass-produced bridal attire from a chain shop, but custom dresses made to her specifications. “So who is this person?” I asked, my attention drawn to a male mannequin in a tiny thong.

Dot and Marcella exchanged a glance and then Dot said, “Toni? She’s the best. Arrived a few years back and is already the go-to costumer for all the hot shows.”

“Yeah, and she’s pretty hot herself,” Marcella said with a grin.

“Anyway,” Dot added quickly, “Toni simply insisted on kitting out the entire bridal party as her gift.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s really generous.”

“Isn’t it?” Dot said. “She’s a great gal.”

I checked my watch again; we’d been sitting there for twenty minutes. “And when will hot Toni be arriving?”

“There’s some sort of sequins emergency,” Dot said apologetically. “Shouldn’t be too much longer, though.”

It was hard not to think that I could’ve used that extra time to patch things up with my girlfriend—if she even was still my girlfriend. I hadn’t intended to share my relationship drama, but when I showed up looking much worse for wear, Dot understandably had some questions.

“Kat will cool off,” Dot said reassuringly. “Don’t you worry.”

“Maybe,” I sighed. “I don’t know. We haven’t had a real fight before this.”

“Well then, you got some making up to look forward to!” Dot shot me a wink and then leaned forward to check her reflection in the mirror and smoothed an eyebrow. “If you want, I can have my friend get you a table at Delmonico tonight. Best steaks in town, and very romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if steak’s going to cut it,” I grumbled, picking at a hole in my jeans. “She’s pretty pissed. Wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“Shouldn’t have fallen asleep.” Pointing a finger at me, Marcella added, “Never go to bed angry. That’s a rookie mistake.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “You, too?”

“Well, Marcella’s not wrong, hon,” Dot said. “I mean, if Jim spent our whole vacation running off with a couple hot gals, I’d be pretty steamed.”

“Nothing happened,” I said, exasperated.

“No one’s gonna believe that,” Marcella said smugly. “I mean, hell, look at me.”

Dot laughed. I shook my head and said, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Aw, I’m just so tickled to have both of you here with me,” Dot said. “I’ve missed you, dollface.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you both, too.” Sitting here with them, it felt like we’d picked up right where we left off. If I’d learned anything, it was how rare and precious that was.

“Oof,” Marcella said. “Both of you give it a rest.” But she was grinning, too.

“Besides, aren’t we doing another stakeout tonight?”

“I can’t decide,” Dot said. “People got a smidge too enthusiastic yesterday.”

“What was the total again?” Marcella asked. “Four johns sprayed?”

“Five, actually.” Dot shook her head. “So going forward we’ll keep it simple. Just the core group.”

“What about the license plate you asked Grace to check out?” I asked.

“No word yet.”

I wondered if Grace was okay; she was an expert hacker, so tracking a license plate shouldn’t have taken this long. Maybe she was dealing with her mom again? Should I text her, or was that weird? And when had this all gotten so complicated? I sighed and said, “She’ll probably have it soon.”

“Sure hope so. Maybe this time, we get lucky.”

“As long as we’re done with stakeouts,” Marcella grumbled. “I need a break from those heels, my feet are killing me.”

“My everything is killing me,” I mumbled, rubbing my neck.

And then the door flew open and an actual goddess swept in.

Toni turned out to be a stunning Black woman, nearly six feet tall, with close-cropped hair and green eyes. And calling her “hot” was a stark understatement. She wore high-top sneakers and a bright blue jumpsuit that I couldn’t have pulled off on my best day. I goggled as she gushed, “I am so sorry, beautiful people! Someone who shall remain nameless split her hot pants, and I don’t have to tell you what it’s like working with those divas. You’d think it was a national emergency. Hey, lover.”

I tried not to react as Toni bent down and gave Marcella a long, deep kiss. I clocked Dot looking at me with concern and tried to settle my features into something that hopefully passed for normal.

Toni straightened and turned to the rest of us. She clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “You must be Amber!”

“Yeah, um, hi,” I said, pushing up to my feet and extending a hand. “Really great to meet you.”

She grabbed it and pulled me in for a hug. “I was so sorry to miss the bachelorette party, I heard it was a blast! Unfortunately, I had to deal with a Magic Mike emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“Girl, you don’t even want to know,” she scoffed. “Anyway, I’ve heard so much about you from Marcie.”

“Really?” I said, wondering exactly what Marcella had shared.

“Don’t worry.” She held me at arm’s length and grinned. “It was mostly good. Now let’s get you ladies done up. Baby, you want to go first?”

“You’re just trying to get me naked,” Marcella purred.

“Always,” Toni said with a wink. “Now come on into my office.”

As Toni led Marcella to a small fitting room at the far end of the workshop, I turned to Dot and said in a low voice, “So they’re dating?”

Dot gave me a sympathetic look. “For a month or so now. They hit it off at an NA meeting.”

“Really?” I frowned. “I thought part of recovery was waiting a year to start a new relationship.” Hearing the plaintiveness in my voice was embarrassing.

Dot came over and perched on the arm of my chair, patting my hand. “Have you ever known Marcella to follow the rules? But Toni’s been real good for her. She’s been sober for years.” She paused, then added, “And I figured maybe it’s for the best, what with you having a serious girlfriend and all. Probably good that you’ve both moved on.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled. “I’m happy for her.”

Dot chuckled. “You don’t have to pretend with me, hon. But I promise, someday you’ll say that and actually mean it.”

Marcella stepped out and my heart gave an extra thump: She looked unbelievable in a black velvet dress with cutouts and a plunging neckline.

Dot clapped her hands together and said, “Oh, it’s perfect!”

“Good to hear,” Toni said. “It was a little hard to see the seams in the pictures you gave me, so I had to do some guesswork. What do you think, babe?”

Marcella stepped onto the platform and did a full turn, inspecting herself in the mirror. “I think my ass looks amazing.”

Silently, I agreed. Dot looked absolutely giddy. “You’re a dead ringer for Linda Darnell in Fallen Angel .”

“ Fallen Angel , huh? Guess that tracks,” Marcella cracked.

“Oh, stop. Seriously, though, you’d love it. Definitely her best film,” Dot said. “She was such a talent. Did a lot of westerns, too.”

“Shame you didn’t pick one of those, I love working with fringe.” Toni dropped to her knees to pin the hem.

Marcella frowned and said, “Can’t you make it shorter?”

“There’s a big slit up the back,” Toni said, running a hand up her calf. “Don’t worry. People’ll see plenty of these gorgeous legs of yours.”

Marcella bent and kissed her again while I tried not to squirm. You’re happy for them , I reminded myself. You love Kat. Even though she currently isn’t speaking to you, overall it’s a great relationship. Right?

“All done!” Toni got to her feet and playfully batted at Marcella as she went in for another kiss. “Stop distracting me and go take this off—carefully, watch the pins. Amber, you ready?”

“Sure,” I said. “Who am I supposed to be?”

“I always got a real Cathy O’Donnell in They Live by Night vibe from you,” Dot said, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. “Girl next door, natural beauty. She wears these fabulous coveralls in the film, but that seemed a little casual, so we’re going with her premiere look.”

“You saying I’m not a natural beauty?” Marcella called from behind the curtain.

“I’m saying you don’t leave the house without putting on your face,” Dot retorted.

“She’s got you there, babe,” Toni laughed.

Every time she said “babe,” I had to fight an inward cringe. I smiled weakly. “Someday you’re going to have to give me a crash course on the best noir flicks.”

“Anytime, toots. Now shake a leg.” Dot shooed me toward the changing room. “Toni has to get to a fitting for the new Cirque show.”

I passed Marcella as she came back out in her regular clothing. She threw me a lazy grin and said, “Better hope your dress is killer. Wouldn’t want to overshadow you up there.”

“We both know that’s happening no matter what,” I scoffed.

She laughed and squeezed my arm. I tried not to flush, noticing Toni watching us. Turning to Dot, she said mildly, “Do these two ever stop flirting?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” Dot snorted.

“Well, lucky I’m not the jealous type,” Toni said, holding back the curtain for me. “Now be careful with the zipper; it’s a bit tricky.”

“Got it. So you’re doing a Cirque show, too?” I said, stooping under her arm. “That’s cool.” A dark green dress was draped over a hanger. I shrugged off my clothes and carefully stepped into it, easing the fabric over my hips.

“I’m doing three of them! It’s been a busy year,” Toni said from the other side of the curtain. “Definitely can’t complain.”

“As if,” Marcella chimed in. “Toni’s never complained about anything in her life.”

“Now that’s not true. But nobody ever died of a positive attitude and gratitude,” Toni said. “Spend too much time focused on the bad, that’s all you’ll see.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Dot said.

“Hell, you two should be a couple,” Marcella snorted.

“Taking that as a compliment, babe,” Toni said. “We could all benefit from being more like Dot. Amber, you need a hand?”

“All good. Should’ve brought heels to try with it, though.” I tugged the bottom of the dress to straighten it and then stepped out.

Dot shook her head and said, “Damn. I really should’ve gotten less-sexy bridesmaids.”

“I got some leftover fabric from Blue Man Group if you want to stick them in black turtlenecks instead,” Toni joked.

I stepped in front of the mirror. Even without heels, I looked amazing. The dress fit like a glove and hugged my curves perfectly. It even made my legs look longer, thanks to the asymmetrical hemline. I turned and grinned. “Dang. My ass looks great, too. Thanks, Toni.”

“That’s my motto,” Toni said through a mouthful of pins as she checked the fit on the sides. “Making women’s asses pop since twenty-fifteen.”

“I know you make mine pop,” Marcella said.

“Enough already,” Dot said. “You’re making me blush, and you know I eat that sort of thing up.”

“All right, you’re set.” Toni eyed me approvingly, “Not many adjustments for either of you. I’ll have them done by tomorrow morning. Now I’m gonna have to kick you out. Dot’s right, I got another meeting to get to.” Toni glanced at her watch and sighed. “Happy to be working, but this week has been brutal.”

“Don’t we get to see the bridal gown?” I asked.

“Sorry, hon. Saving that for a big reveal,” Dot said. “Y’all get to see it when you help me get ready Saturday.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “Any suggestions on how to get my girlfriend to speak to me again?”

“Flowers, chocolate, bath bomb, face mask,” Toni said, ticking them off on her fingers. “You can rehearse what you’re going to say while I help you out of this, ’kay?”

“Okay,” I grumbled. I watched her blow Marcella a kiss before leading me back to the fitting room, and for a minute, I actually did feel happy for them. Marcella had had a tough life, and she’d worked hard to pull herself together. She deserved someone as cool as Toni. Hell, they basically defined #relationshipgoals for me now.

“You two are super cute,” I said.

“Aw, thanks,” Toni said. “Can’t wait to meet your girl. This wedding is going to be one for the ages.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, not knowing then exactly how prophetic those words would prove to be.

———

It was late afternoon when I got back to the Mayhem. This time, I was prepared. I’d stopped at a store along the way and bought everything Toni had suggested, including a souvenir sweatshirt to satisfy Kat’s soft spot for American kitsch. I struggled to bring it all to our room without dropping anything, which was especially challenging when I tried to dig out my key. Plus, largely courtesy of Toni, I had a whole speech prepared. A pretty darn good one, too, if I do say so myself: heartfelt and moving and definitely enough to convince any reasonable person that I should be forgiven.

I was so prepared, in fact, that I launched into it before the door had closed behind me. “Sweetheart, I’m a total idiot and I’m so sorry that I’ve ruined—”

I peered around the precariously balanced two dozen roses and frowned. The sheets were rumpled, but there was no sign of my erstwhile girlfriend. “Um, Kat?” I called out. “You in the bathroom?”

I checked: no Kat.

“Well, shit,” I said, dumping my peace offerings on the bed and plunking down heavily beside them. Had she gone back to San Francisco? And if so, did that mean we were over?

Also, was it a bad sign that I felt just the slightest twinge of relief at the prospect? Stop it, Amber , I chided myself. You’re a grown-up now, in a grown-up relationship. And grown-ups don’t bail when things get a little rough.

Of course, it might not even be up to me anymore. Just in case, I should make sure the roses didn’t die. Disgruntled, I went to find an ice bucket to stick them in.

Which was when I spotted a note on the bureau, because Kat’s finishing school had emphasized the importance of handwritten communication. It read:

Amber—

Your father was badly hurt. We took him to Acute Urgent Care on Sahara Avenue. Please meet us there.

Kat

———

I don’t even remember the drive. It turns out that you can have terrible parents who abandon you, who you don’t see for years, and still the thought of losing one of them is a gut punch. I went into a kind of fugue state. Somehow, I must have parked and made my way to reception because I found myself standing in front of a desk staring down at a frowning woman in scrubs.

“Miss? Are you okay? Can I help you?”

I stared at the woman in front of me, momentarily drawing a blank. Then I said, “I think my dad is here?”

“What’s his name, hon?”

“Perry Austin.”

Her fingers flew over the keyboard and then she nodded. “He’s down the hall, that way,” she said, pointing past me.

I pushed through the double doors she’d indicated and scanned inside each room as I passed. Most were empty. The whole time, I was saying a silent prayer that he was okay. “Badly hurt” could mean a lot of things, right? After all, this was urgent care, not a hospital.

When I finally found his room, I paused on the threshold. My dad was lying on an examination table, eyes closed, a cast on his arm and a collar around his neck. He looked small and pale. My mother sat beside him, holding his good hand. Kat was leaning against the wall by the windows. They all turned their attention to me as I demanded, “What the fuck happened? Dad, are you okay?”

“He is most definitely not okay!” my mom said angrily, as if this was somehow my fault. “He nearly broke his neck!”

“Now, Sarah, just calm down,” my dad said wearily. “I’m fine.”

“And his arm!” Mom exclaimed, gesturing to the air cast. “Broken in two places!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I said, annoyance overtaking my concern. “So what happened?”

“He was in a car crash,” Kat explained. Avoiding my eyes, she added, “The details are a bit…confusing.”

“I thought your car was impounded,” I said suspiciously.

“It was! I mean, it is!” Mom said.

“So he was walking, and a car hit him?”

My parents exchanged a glance. I shook my head. I should’ve known. “What did you do?”

“Your father tried to solve our little problem,” my mother said frostily. She cast a quick glance at Kat, then said, “I told you we owed some people money. Well, they offered a way to pay them back.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I threw up my hands. “Please tell me you weren’t dumb enough to do a swoop and squat.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” Mom said stiffly.

“What is a swoop and squat?” Kat asked, eyes wide.

“It’s a scam where you basically cause a car crash,” I said, folding my arms. “One car blocks in the target, then the other swoops in front of them and slams on the brakes, forcing a rear-ender.”

“But…the crash is real?”

“Very real,” I said. “And super dangerous for whoever is in the swoop car. Which I’m guessing was you, Dad?”

“They were going faster than they were supposed to,” my dad said apologetically. “It was only meant to be a little fender bender.”

“I can’t believe you!” I shook my head. “You know better than that.” Most self-respecting grifters considered swoop and squats beneath them. They were high risk and low reward—or worse. The con hinged on having a bunch of willing victims piled into the car that got hit; usually, those victims were desperate people risking their lives. The mark would hit the swoop car, then be persuaded to fork over cash to cover the vehicle damage and injuries, rather than involving insurance companies.

It was a coin toss, though. Some owners would refuse to pay and insist on waiting for the cops, or demand an exchange of insurance information.

And sometimes, the victims’ injuries were severe. People had even died.

If my parents were stooping to those tactics, they must be in worse trouble than I thought. Not your problem , I reminded myself, although seeing my father all banged up was definitely challenging my resolve. “Well, I told you to leave us out of it,” I said resolutely. “Kat, let’s go.”

She threw me a withering look. “No.”

I sighed. “C’mon, baby, let’s go somewhere we can talk. I promise to make it up to you.”

“You were right,” Kat said, exchanging a look with my mother.

My eyes narrowed, and a swell of rage filled my chest. Turning on my mom, I growled, “What have you been telling her?”

“Nothing!” my mother protested, holding up her hands. “Kat is just such a lovely person, I thought she deserved to know a little more about you.”

“ You don’t even know me,” I said. “We haven’t spoken in nearly a decade!”

“I’m your mother, dear,” she said placidly. “Of course I know you.”

“You can’t listen to her,” I said to Kat. Gesturing to my mother, I added, “She’ll say anything. This is the person who forgot to buy Christmas presents one year, then told me Santa didn’t come because I did a bad job of pretending to have leukemia.”

“Which was better than telling you he didn’t exist!” my mother said.

“No, it really wasn’t!” I snarled.

A nurse poked her head in. “Mr. Austin, I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask your visitors to leave. Some of the other patients are complaining about the noise.”

“Oh, I’m going, all right.” I whirled on my girlfriend and demanded, “Are you coming?”

Kat hesitated. Her eyes shifted between my mother and me. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, I am coming.”

I held out my hand, and she took it. As we walked down the hall my mother called after us, “Her real name is Emily!”