Clearing the constriction in my throat, my tone continues with precision. “Touch one hair on his head, I don't give a damn if you're the Boss of all Bosses, Sal, I'll slit your fucking throat myself.”
And there it is.
The monologue I have readdressed while sitting in the driver’s seat of my Chevy Cruze. I stop glaring at myself as if I'm my own enemy but The devil who meet me in sheep's clothing. Sweet Salvatore is now that ‘sneaky snake Sal.’ I never suspected that one of my most loyal customers at The Flour Shoppe, has turned out to be a lying snake. Sort of like my dad, Milo, his son. Guess the apple didn't even roll a friggen inch when it fell off the tree.
But I loved my dad despite his faults. Milo had this way of making you fall for him before scaring the shit outta you.
TAP, TAP, TAP.
Shoulder’s stiffening, I practically jump out of my skin.
Jamie stops knocking on the window and laughs erratically. Probably, on the outside looking in I appeared the crazed woman cussing myself out.
As I grab my purse, and get out of the car, he’s doubled over, stomping his stiletto boots, bawling so hard that he has to clutch his ribs
“You done?” I ask, hands on hips, watching his dramatic display.
He holds up a manicured index finger, gesturing for more time. After clearing his throat, Jamie purses his purple-tinted lips which are spread wide in order to cease more laughing. He sniggers, “Reese, I’m sorry. You okay? Reese… Reese’s Pieces…”
“What?” I start to toss my purse back into the front seat.
“Don’t what me. Check yourself, I should be asking what you were just doing in the car. Girl, you had a full-blown conversation with yourself. You know I’m leery of schizophrenics after… after watching Girl, Interrupted when we were kids.”
I glare at him. Though he had been creeped out about the stellar performances in the movie, we both know Jamie was about to mention Lolita. He saw the movie right after observing an episode of hers.
“Let’s go inside, the day is already planned out,” he changes the subject, and I glance at Lure, an upscale day spa that Jamie’s boyfriend, Chu has had arranged for us.
“All day? No can do. The movers’ have five hours. I plan to be back in four, to make sure they’re not picking their noses or whatever.”
“Just give them all the time they need, Reese. Now, turn off your phone, before we step inside,” Jamie says, entwining his arm with mine.
“What about Nook?” I mention my breakfast boutique.
“I am confident that you did well selecting a day manager. If anything, baking offers a healing environment so reviving Flour is the only chit-chat I’ll allow.”
I blink. There’ll be no talk of my bakery.
“As you wish, phone off,” he squeezes my arm within the twining of his own.
I stop, mid-step. My eyes tracking a champagne-colored Charger. Plates… the license plates… intuition compels me to check out the stranger’s license plate. The muscle car is maneuvering toward the exit, and a Jaguar pulls into the lot whisking the bumper of the car out of sight.
“Reese, what’s up? Don’t embarrass me when we get inside.”
“Did you see that light-gold colored Charger?” I ask.
“Honey, you know I only do imports.” Jamie shrugs.
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that very car before…”
“Stop being paranoid, Reese. We are standing in the middle of the parking lot.” Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose, “I swear a backrub will reboot both our batteries. This is the first time I’ve…” Jamie pauses from the need to gripe about how he hasn’t frequented Lure day spa since prior to that asshole Riker. Hands atop his head, Jamie asks, “Reese, what’s going on?”
Before I can repeat, Jamie asks me about the nightmares that I have been having and refuse to divulge to Evan. He begins with a battery of questions, and my previous paranoia of being stalked washes away. Then Jamie purses his lips, takes a moment to regroup and holding up my hand to stave off his questions, I cut in, “I have no intention of seeing a friggen therapist. And I am so over your need to play my damn mama!”
“Play your mom?” Jamie’s bottom lip drops. “I love you, Reese. You know what, Reese’s Pieces, you’re so full of disappointment in your life, from a dad who unfortunately is dead and gone! And your mother, I won’t mention that bitch. I love you, Reese. Evan, he loves you. And damn it, your little hormonal ass needs some damn therapy before you lose him. I’ll stick around because you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever known when you aren’t in one of your goddamn funks.” Sheesh, Jamie is so angry he has had to use the triple ‘damn.’
“No therapy, and it’s good to know you’ll stick around. But Evan,” I begin with my hands raised to the heavens, “What if he does not really love me? What if I’m just some investigation, a puzzle to dissect. Once he figures out that I’m wishy- washy every day and… and I let Lolita walk over me, he might treat me in the same manner.”
“Oh, so you’d get trampled over. Is that manner you deserve?” Jamie asks, rubbing his hands over his short fade.
“Yes.” I tartly toss an idiotic response to his dumb
