Page 32 of Play Me
I slow down for a red light and try to piece together where this story is headed. It’s much more entertaining than thinking about Trace’s crap. “So how did he find out she was … who she was?”
“His employee got an award, and they had a company dinner to celebrate him. He walked in with her on his arm.”
“Bet that was awkward.” I proceed forward, making a right at a fancy bar called The Swill, and quickly enter a residential area. Apartment buildings are interspersed with small homes that have tidy front lawns and flowers hanging off the porch. My window is rolled up, but if it weren’t, I bet I could smell cookiesbaking somewhere.If this is where Renn houses his employees, I should negotiate housing in my nonexistent employment contract. Damn.“Did he tell the guy he was banging his wife or what?”
She smacks her lips together. “I hate this color on me. I got three new lipsticks, and I’m trying each of them. Why haven’t you ever told me coral isn’t my color?”
“Gianna, can you focus?” I sigh, knowing that if she goes off track too far, I’ll never get her back—and I kind of want to know the end of this story. “I’m almost to Gray’s.”
“Shit. I just dropped my earrings. Can you hold on a sec?”
I roll my eyes. “Sure.”
I reduce my speed, coming to a crawl, as I survey the scene in front of me. Gray’s apartment is on my left, and even if I wasn’t sure which was his, I’d recognize that ridiculous truck.
My body tightens, pulling so hard that I wince as I park along the curb. I’ve been nauseous since I got the mail this afternoon. This isn’t helping.
Everything inside me screams not to go inside with a volume so loud that it’s deafening. I need to go home and deal with the letter I received this afternoon while I’m still clear-minded, not walk into Gray’s for another pointless battle. That’s especially true since, as much as I don’t want to admit it, my feelings are still hurt from yesterday.
“That would be hard to do, considering I don’t think you have one.”
I fight the lump in my throat and turn my attention back to Gianna.
“Sorry about that,” she says. “To answer your question, no, he didn’t say a word to the guy about banging his wife, and that’s why he was writing into the column. He wanted to know if he should say something or let her handle it since it was her marriage and he was a semi-innocent bystander. Sort of.”
The lilt to her voice gives her away. I sigh, knowing there’s more to the story than what she’s shared. “What are you not telling me?”
“I may have asked him to meet me for dinner tomorrow night.”
“What? Why would you do that?” I stop myself.Well, she did meet a stranger in an empty parking lot for a urinal, so is this really that surprising?I sigh yet again. “You don’t even know this guy.”
“I like the way he emails, okay? But the dinner isn’t confirmed, so don’t panic yet.” She giggles. “Okay, that’s my news. Update me on your life, please.”
I grip the steering wheel like I’m trying to disintegrate it and glance at the envelope on the passenger’s seat. Bile coats the back of my throat. Even though my instincts say to keep this to myself and handle it on my own, I know that’s unhealthy. I need to lean on my friends in hard situations.
Here we go …My damp palms slide down my thighs.
“Oh, I have a dandy update for you,” I say. “Guess what I got in the mail today.”
“No clue.”
I take a deep, shaky breath. “I got a letter from an attorney stating that I owealmost twenty thousand dollarsbecause Trace, who kicked me out, keep in mind, didn’t pay his rent.” I twirl the earrings that Audrey brought me from Boston. “Then when he did leave, he left it a disaster. Broken dishwasher, ruined carpets. Apparently, he trashed the entire place.”
“How is that your problem?”
Good question. I breathe deeply to try to put out the fire burning my chest. Trace was such a bad decision, and I can’t escape him. It’s been years since I’ve seen or communicated with him at all, and he’s still throwing wrenches in my life. I’d cry if I weren’t so numb.
“Because I paid the rent a number of times, and the trash pickup was in my name, so that somehow makes me legally liable for the rest of it. Sounds unbelievable to me, but I’ll have to get an attorney, I think.” I groan, sinking into my seat. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t pay it. That’s illegal.”
I shrug. “Let us pray. But I don’t want to talk about it, and I need to go anyway. I have more immediate headaches at hand.”
“Okay, I have to go, too. I’m having dinner with my sister. She’s in town for a couple of days.”
“That’s right. Have fun with Lucia and tell her I said hi.”
“Will do. Bye, friend.”
