Trifecta Page 14

At the age of ten, Jason slapped Russell across the head for ratting him out when Russell decided to be truthful and told the teacher he was doing his homework. Russell tattled on him, and Jason got reamed out by his mother for hitting the boy he called his brother.

  At the age of fifteen, Jason pushed Russell causing him to rip his pants when Russell wouldn't ask Susan Someone to the school dance because no other guys thought she was cool. Russell ended up going alone, Jason went with Susan, and his mother gave him a hug for standing up for those who are different.

  At the age of twenty-one Jason was done with hitting and pushing, but he didn't talk to Russell for two days after he got a trendy foreign four door and not the 1960's muscle car he craved. It wasn't that he didn't buy the car, but when Jason asked him why, Russell only said everyone had one of those cars and he wanted one too. No one would understand the muscle car. Jason told his father and the muscle car was purchased, fixed up and put into their arsenal. Russell never drove it.

  Now, at the age of twenty-eight, Jason decided physical force may return to his repertoire as he watched his best friend do everything in his power to not appear as if he was in a different kind of relationship. Better than anyone, except maybe Laurie, he knew Russell wasn't ready to come out, so to speak.

  Actually, maybe he didn't need to hit or shove. Laurie appeared to be ready to do the job for him. That, or take of her stiletto and impale Russell on it. The last time he saw their girl, she had excused herself to the bathroom. Her cheeks were splotched bright red in complete contrast to her pale skin, and by the gloss of her eyes, he knew she was blinking back tears, only their Laurie would never cry in public.

  She would never do a lot of things other girls did, which was why they both wanted her. She gave them their fantasy, and tonight when it was time to reciprocate, Russell forgot his etiquette. He would have done better if he faked an illness. Of course, Russell could have manned up and faced his demons.

  He downed his soda and glanced around. Laurie had still not emerged from the bathroom, but that wasn't who he was after.

  "I haven't seen much of you tonight." Anne practically skipped over.

  He shut his eyes. Laurie made them both promise they would be nice to Anne. Thus far only Russell kept good on his promise, too good. Maybe that meant he didn't have to be as nice, it would even karma out. "What's up?"

  "This is a great night!" She jumped in front of him.

  "I guess your shoe is all right now." He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied her. It was good for his art. No it wasn't. Anne or Anne's essence was nothing that he wanted to depict in any sort of artistic expression. He wasn't sure what he didn't like about her. She wasn't bad looking but she wasn't memorable. She wasn't a bitch, but she wasn’t sweet or sassy. It was an indefinable quality like when he heard nails on a chalkboard, or when something grossed him out that shouldn't be gross at all. Still, he arched his back.

  "Yes, Russell can fix anything." She lifted her foot to show off her footwear.

  He pursed his lips. Russell could also break things and make mistakes. "What are you after?"

  A smile appeared on her face and spread like mold. "I've been after the same thing since my best girlfriend brought me home for dinner."

  He remembered that dinner. Laurie made something in the crockpot and told them to be nice. He was really starting to hate that appliance. In fact, maybe he needed to take the damn thing outside, smash it and make the pieces into an evil mosaic.

  "Did you get what you were finally after?" She moved closer to him.

  "What might that be?" He wasn't the shoe fixer, nice man mixer Russell decided to be.

  "I know you and Lauren finally got together." Her smiled multiplied. Not a smile of joy for her friend, but a smile of triumph.

  "How do you know?" He crossed his arms. The three of them never looked less like anything tonight.

  She raised her eyebrows. "It was always you, even if she thought it was Russell."

  He looked over Anne's shoulder and spied Lauren returning to the party with her head down and rushing straight for the bar. This made for her fourth drink. One or two more and she wouldn't be hanging on them, instead, Russell would be holding her hair back while she yacked in the toilet. "Russell?" He clenched his fist.

  "Yeah, I always thought it would be the two of them, but it’s obviously not." She bit her lip. "Don't feel bad, you're the fantasy you know."

  Wait, he was the fantasy? "What?" Maybe he didn't hear right. Lauren swallowed down the drink and grabbed another. She turned around the room and went to a corner with a bunch of women.

  "You are the fantasy, the one everyone wants but can't have." She hooked her arm in his. "Figures Lauren would get you, but at least that makes Russell available."

  Her tone told him she fought the jealousy down with her internal pitchfork. With an over exaggerated movement he pulled his arm away. "How do you figure?"

  "He seemed to wait for her, but now with you, he's forgotten her." She got some gloss out of her purse.

  "So you would want him even if he wants her?" Without having to sample, he knew Anne's gloss didn't taste like a mixture of strawberries and sugar like Lauren's. Venom would be more her speed.

  "It's just like sales." She dropped the tube back into her bag. "They see Lauren and their money making opportunity, and all the glitz and glamor."

  He pressed his lips together keeping the words in.

  "At the end of the day, they still have to prescribe an antibiotic." She snapped her bag closed. "Maybe with any luck you and Lauren can have the house to yourself tonight." She pointed to where Russell stood and trundled off.

  This party was done. Their first foray into the world a disaster on every count.

  Once more, he watched Laurie. She stood at the edge of a group of women, as if she were engaged, but instead held her phone up to her face.

  He waited, even though all he wanted to do was swoop her into his arms and bend her back for the kiss Russell should be bestowing upon her. Girls needed to show off their guys like their jewelry or their clothes. A guy could be the best accessory or they could make the girl look fat, and Russell was acting like a pair of white pants that was giving the girl a camel toe. In her case, it had to be both of them or none of them, which is why she avoided him as well.

  The phone illuminated her face and at last she smiled. Not a true smile, not the kind when Russell fixed something for her, or when he drew funny pictures on her order forms. It was more of a combination of a nod and a smile.

  Shit. She figured something out. Something no one at the party could give her. He turned trying to find the man responsible for tonight's implosion.

  Russell was talking to people he didn't even know, something the man hated, but at least he didn't have to answer any tough questions. He never even backed away when Anne returned to him.

  "Asshole."

  Once more, he glanced at Laurie. She wasn't pretending that she was part of the group anymore, now she leaned on the wall with her head in her purse.

  He rubbed his chin and swallowed. If he didn't know her, he would think she was the lonely girl searching for that strawberry flavored lip gloss. However he did know her, and he knew she searched her purse for nothing, only gaining a bit of comfort from the smell of leather and makeup, and making sure she didn't misplace something she couldn't remember she forgot.

  "Damn it." He took a breath. This was his fault. Maybe his best friend wasn't ready to seize what he wanted, wasn't ready to stand out. He always had to be the one to push them, but maybe this time he went too far. He hit his fist into his leg. Now what?

  His phone vibrated and he knew what he would find before he lifted the small screen to his face.

  I'm not feeling well can we go soon?

  He chewed the inside of his mouth. Lauren's eight word text revealed a wealth of information. This text was normally reserved for Russell, so she wasn't speaking to him. Also, he knew she felt fine, except for maybe her heart and her e
go. Before he gave in, he decided to call her bluff. What's wrong, can I get you something?

  Woman issues. I just want to go to bed.

  Well, that told him the rest. He also knew she didn't have her period, but a woman could pull that card any time. It was the royal flush of being a girl, the excuse that got you out of sex and talking in one winning hand. Sure let me round up Russell, meet me at the exit.

  We need to go, Lauren is sick. He sent Russell a text as their girl rushed across the room, head hung down, purse to her chest.

  Is she okay? RS

  I don't know. Meet me at the exit. Jason shoved his phone in his pocket and kept his eyes on her. He had a feeling he needed to keep her in his sights. This was right around when Laurie would pull a disappearing act.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Here's the deal." Bradley Wilson clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

  Lauren lowered the volume in her headset while Bradley did his thing. Somehow she didn't think her boss understood that the noises he made amplified one hundred times through the cell phone. Not that it mattered, at this moment, any noise, any smell, any touch that wasn't right would send wincing chills through her body, much like when she scraped her teeth together.

  Instead of screaming at her boss to shut up, she forced her mouth into a smile and kept her focus on the Las Vegas strip in the horizon. She drove over the state line about twenty minutes ago, and the kaleidoscope of grand manufactured buildings grew as she approached. The strip with its pyramid, castle and even a miniature New York City personified the adult playground beaconing those intent on finding something they lost along the way.

  "Don't worry about being at the show the whole time, I called Melissa and told her you would be there, but were only there to take care of Greg Dalton's account."

  One phone call to Bradley about the dinner with Dr. Dalton netted her the result she wanted, an all expenses paid trip to Las Vegas for the Aesthetic Plastic Surgery trade show. "Thanks."

  "Take him out and make sure he gets a ton of syringes. Once he places the order, go play slots. The room is paid for until Sunday. You're doing great and the holidays are right around the corner." He hummed into the phone.

  His hum vibrated through her skull.

  "I hear the hotel is great, I'm surprised you didn't take me up on my offer to bring your significant other with you."

  Two days ago it would have been significant others, not other. She stared straight ahead thankful the road was equally as straight.

  He whistled. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

  "Thanks, Bradley." She hit the end button. Like a spy, she had her mission. Only last month she would have taken her directive without question, gone in more focused than a laser beam on a wrinkle. Today, she fought tears with the knowledge that Gregory Dalton was the only one who wanted to have dinner with her.

  She swallowed and tried to take in the sights. The only problem with driving to Vegas was except for the strip, the Joshua trees and a bunch of flat there was nothing to take in except the voices in her mind. "Help me."

  No, it wasn't Anne that caused her to call Bradley and run off. It wasn't Jason, or even Russell. It was herself. She needed to escape herself and the fantasy.

  Somewhere in all of this, she forgot it was indeed a fantasy, one broken like a glass bubble when they finally went in public together.

  Jason didn't care if he stood out, his life, his career, his credo was about being different. Showing up at a party with the two of them was simply another day in Jason land.

  She was the dreamer. Where Jason teased Russell about having a little black rain cloud over his head, she lived in a fluffy white cloud.

  Of course, Russell was the realist. The one who knew what would happen. While he allowed himself this little bit of fun, he kept them in their safe tower. When he couldn't hide anymore he did the only thing he could.

  In more ways than one, she had her directive. She did what she set out to do and had them both. Oh, it was glorious, better than what she could have ever hoped for, and for that she should be thankful. Only now her heart seized a little tighter, the nausea was a little stronger, the tears a little bigger.

  She took a breath and glanced at her phone. There were three phone calls she could make, but only one she would make. She hit the name in her contacts, partially hoping no one would answer.

  "Is this my favorite rep?" Dr. Dalton's voice boomed through her phone.

  The electronic chime of slot machines echoed in the background and she forced herself to take a breath. This was business and she couldn't sound like she was going to fall apart. Men like Gregory Dalton smelled weakness, and rather than coddling it like the other two men she knew, he would go in for the kill. It was time to turn the tables. "Only if you let me take you to dinner tonight." Yes, she sounded as if she was flirting. Sales and dating were definitely kissing cousins.

  "Only if you tell me you came to Vegas for me." He gave her a low laugh.

  "I hate Vegas and I hate traveling."

  "Then make the reservations and put my order in for whatever I have to buy so we don't have to spend the entire night talking about collagen production and natural results."

  Somehow the thrill of the order far outweighed the thrill of this conversation. She must be out of practice. "Good thing you have your credit card on file at corporate."

  "Good thing you have an expense account. I'll meet you in the lobby at 8:00." He hung up.

  She tried to calculate how many syringes she needed to sell to beat the New York rep, but her mind continued to wander. "What did you think was going to happen?" She pounded her fist into the steering wheel.

  Before she continued her commission count, she allowed herself to finally confront what she wanted to happen. No, it wasn't a few weeks of decadence as she conned herself into believing. "I wanted it all." Both men, a commitment, a life. Somehow she wanted them to figure it out, have a home together, and never leave each other.

  Her eyes watered. She cleared her throat, and lifted her phone to call corporate. The screen blurred and she blinked to make out the numbers.

  The honk of a horn going by her and her tires tap dancing on the bumps between the lanes caused her to jolt her head up. "Oh God!" Her car straddled two lanes. Two cars passed her, one guy stuck his hand out the car window giving her the finger. She swerved, first too far into the other lane, and at last she jerked the car into one lane.

  This time she didn't have Jason pulling up on the curb or Russell chastising her for looking at her phone, and she couldn't rely on them to be there.

  She tossed her phone aside and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. No, she didn't need laser focus, her focus needed to be as sharp as a needle on one Dr. Dalton's syringes.

  ***

  "Perfect, she's not here." Russell parked in the driveway, grabbed his briefcase, his groceries, his peace offering, and got out of the car. He would be completely set up before Lauren came home.

  He balanced his items and let himself in, not getting the chance to step inside before Jason thrust a pink piece of paper into his face. "What's this?"

  Jason shook the paper.

  "What's going on?" Russell stopped. Something was off. That indefinable quality when something was wrong encompassed him. Of course, he had that feeling since the party, since Lauren insisted on going home and complained of cramps the entire ride when he knew she didn't have her period. He put his packages down and reached for the note.

  Jason held it up.

  He wasn't going to play Jason's game of keep away. "Either give it to me or get out of my way."

  Jason averted his eyes to the packages. "First tell me what all that is."

  "I brought home some steak to grill for the three of us, and I bought Lauren a present." He could get Jason good and held up a coveted green Jacques shopping bag. Lauren would carry her lunch in the store bag for months until it became tattered. "I know it's not the purse she wants, but I thought I would get her a litt
le something." He reached inside and retrieved the store's green box tied with a purple ribbon. "It's just a keychain." A keychain there cost triple digits.

  "It's just a guilt gift."

  "You're an ass." He put the bag down, retrieved his groceries and went to walk around him.

  "You're a jerk." Jason slid in his way. "That is a guilt gift."

  His jaw stiffened, shooting a pain down through his neck. If Jason was picking now to start a fight he better hurry, Lauren would be home soon, and he wouldn't allow his friend to ruin a Jacques gift for her. "What do I have to be guilty for?"

  "Let me ask you something." Jason peeked in the grocery bag. "Why wouldn't we all just go out? Did we hit some relationship milestone that requires a five hundred dollar keychain? And if that is the case why didn't you tell me?"

  The headache starting to pound didn't block out all the questions Jason hammered at him. "Am I not allowed to buy her something nice for no reason?"

  "Not when there is a reason." Jason reached inside the bag and pulled out one of the steaks. "Jacques and filet mignon?"

  "Let me get started. Lauren will be home soon." He didn't need to justify his actions. The night Jason came home with flowers and beer, they took him back with open arms. He swallowed down the acid bile in the back of his throat.

  "That will be one overdone steak." Jason put the pink paper in the bag.

  He glanced down at the note written in Lauren's handwriting on top of his steaks.

  "Read it aloud." Jason flicked the bag.

  He balanced the bag in one hand and picked up the note in the other. "Hi guys."

  "That’s a bit impersonal to the two of us don't you think?" Jason tapped the letter. "We have sex with her every night. Well, every night but last night."

  "Got called to the show in Vegas to help the Nevada rep." He walked in from seventy-five degree weather in the beginning of November, but still a chill took over him. "I'll be back Sunday. Lauren."

  "Bradley never makes her travel unless it's to corporate. That means she asked to go." Jason filled in the blanks.