Getting Dumped (8 page)

“You called me a loser,” she said, the hurt flickering in her eyes the same way it had the day she’d shown up at my college dorm in tears a week after her high school graduation. “You said that if I didn’t get a degree, I’d never amount to anything. You said you couldn’t possibly be with someone who didn’t respect herself enough to ensure that her earning potential was—”

“I was wrong,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. “I was pissed when I realized we weren’t going to college together like we’d planned, and I said stupid things.
Did
stupid things. I was a stupid kid, okay?”

Lori stared at him, her elfin features flushed pink. “Yes,” she said. “You were.”

“I was a jerk to you.”

“Yes. You were.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lori blinked hard, her eyes on him. When she spoke again, her voice was an octave higher.

“Why is it that our immature, eighteen-year-old selves are the ones who make those major, life-altering decisions about education and career?”

Adam shrugged. “It seems to have worked out okay for you.”

Lori’s chin lifted. “Better than okay.”

“I saw those pictures of your stuff in
Cosmopolitan
two years ago. And then that little thing in
Marie Claire
last fall.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why were you reading women’s magazines?”

“We keep copies in the waiting areas at all the auto repair shops,” Adam said, shrugging. “When things are slow, I catch up on my reading. Get in touch with my feminine side.”

“You just like looking at boobs.”

“That too,” he agreed.

Lori smiled, albeit weakly. “Fine. You can stay for dinner. That’s it. Then you go home.”

“That seems fair,” he said, glancing at the table. “Since I bought the pizza.”

Lori nodded once, then turned to grab the salad that Pete and I had just finished.

“So can we eat now?” I asked, glancing between them to make sure neither was on the verge of drawing a dagger. “Cold pizza’s okay, but it’s really better warm.”

Lori turned back toward the kitchen and rummaged through my cupboard to find the dried cranberries she favored on her salad. She returned to the table and sat down across from my usual spot, leaving the men to fill in the gaps between us. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Very cozy. I could almost have pretended that none of the guests were on the brink of skewering another with a salad fork or groping a table-mate who was already involved in a relationship.

We passed around pizza slices and plates, the conversation growing more relaxed as we munched. “So you think that was just a random thing that happened to your car?” Lori asked as she passed Pete a bowl of toasted pine nuts.

Pete shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I don’t think I have any enemies.”

Adam cleared his throat. “So the cops think it’s just teenagers screwing around?”

“They didn’t really say. Why?”

Adam shrugged. “No reason. That’s just usually a really safe part of town. Don’t they have security cameras or something?”

“Not there,” Lori said. “A couple blocks down by the jewelry store they do, but there’s nothing in that section.”

Pete nodded and reached for another beer. “The cops took prints and examined everything pretty thoroughly.”

“Then hopefully they’ll get to the bottom of it,” Adam said as he grabbed another slice of pepperoni.

“So, Pete,” Lori said, “How did you end up working at the dump after being an actor?”

“
The
actor,” Adam clarified around a mouthful of pizza. “Seriously, this guy is the man. Colt McTrigger, the coolest action hero
ever
. There was this scene where he flipped this switch on his Taser gun and all the bad guys turned into wedges of cheddar cheese and these mice came out—”

“The movie didn’t have a lot of commercial success,” Pete said, cutting Adam off. “I realized acting wasn’t really my calling, and then my mom got sick so it seemed like a good time to come back to Oregon and get a stable job with good benefits.”

“What is it you do out there again?” Adam asked.

“Secretary,” Pete said, without the faintest hint of self-consciousness.

Lori stared at Adam, her eyes daring him to say something judgmental about the job. I could almost hear her mental tape deck replaying Adam’s post-high school speech about lowly jobs and the people who performed them.

“Huh,” was all Adam said as he grabbed a slice of veggie. “Government benefits are great. You get dental?”

“Vision, too.”

“Yeah?”

Adam turned toward Lori, who had been staring at him open-mouthed. “I’m sorry, did you need the pine nuts?”

“Um, no. Thank you.”

“More salad?” he asked, passing her the bowl.

Lori took the salad and stared at it for a moment as though uncertain what to do with it. After seven years of holding a surprisingly strong grudge and remembering Adam as a judgmental snob, it was clear Lori had no idea what to make of this new and improved version of her ex.

I set down my fork, finished with my pizza and certain my little sister needed rescuing. I stood up and hoisted my plate.

“Hey, Lori, I think I’ve got the stuff to make those white chocolate apricot almond balls you like. If you’re done, you want to help? It just takes a few minutes.”

Lori turned her blank stare toward me, probably wondering why I required the culinary assistance of someone who couldn’t differentiate a spatula from a spackling trowel.

“Sure.”

I pointed the men toward my living room. “You guys can turn on the TV if you want.”

“Should we move the cat first?” Pete asked, warily eyeing Blue Cat on his perch atop the television.

“Nope, he likes it up there,” I assured him. “It’s warm.”

“Are his legs supposed to bend like that?”

“He always lies that way,” I said, pausing to scratch my twenty-one pound cat stretched out like Superman in flight. “Started doing it right after he got neutered six years ago.”

“Good to know.”

The men filed into the living room – not so much filed as took five steps to the left – and flipped on the television. Lori joined me in the kitchen. I measured out the almonds and powdered sugar, letting Lori dump them into the food processor before I added the dried apricots.

“How much rum?” Lori asked, holding up the bottle eagerly.

“Only a tablespoon.”

I watched as she doubled the amount – precisely what I expected, and the reason I’d said one instead of two. I grabbed the bottle back and handed her a bar of white chocolate.

“Here, you add this and pulse. I’ll zest the orange.”

I kept an eye on my sister, wondering what freak of genetics had made her an artistic soul with no culinary skill while giving me kitchen savvy and an inability to draw anything more complex than a stick figure. I knew it had something to do with my incessant need to feed people and her incessant need to outfit them in all the latest accessories.

“Hold out your hands,” I ordered, spritzing them lightly with cooking spray before doing the same to mine.

“They seem to be getting along well,” she whispered, peering around the edge of the cabinets at the sound of male laughter coming from the living room.

“Great,” I murmured back. “The ex you don’t want and the hot guy who’s already taken.”

“We know how to pick ‘em.”

I reached into the bowl to grab a handful of sticky dough. “Here, roll it into little balls.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

“Gooey.”

“Yup.”

“Then we bake them?”

“They’re no-bake. We chill them, remember?”

The doorbell rang. I stared down at my hands, which were covered with cooking spray and almond paste. Lori’s looked the same, only messier.

“Would one of you guys mind grabbing the door?” I called.

The bell rang again. The volume on the TV went silent and I heard footsteps, followed by the click of my door latch and Pete’s good-natured baritone.

“Hey there, can I help you?”

There was a long pause, followed by another familiar voice. “Um, is JJ around?”

“Daniel!” I yelped.

I launched myself across the room in a cloud of flying almond bits and powdered sugar. It was supposed to be quick and graceful, but I tripped over the corner of a rug. Down I went, skidding on my knees across the wood floor to come to rest between Pete and Daniel’s feet.

I looked up to find myself at eye level with both their crotches.

Lovely.

Daniel reached down to help me to my feet, but Pete moved to do the same thing just a split second behind him. For an instant, the two held hands.

They let go fast, like they cupped turds in their palms.

I stood up fast on my own, not wanting to pick between them for assistance in standing. I dusted off my knees and looked from Daniel to Pete, then back to Daniel. I wasn’t sure why I felt so awkward about having them both in a room together, but I couldn’t deny the distinct urge to have the ground swallow me up.

“This is quite a surprise, Daniel!” I said with more cheer than I was really feeling. “What brings you here?”

Daniel’s jaw clenched as he deliberately avoided looking at Pete. “I called, but your cell went right to voicemail. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop in and see if you wanted to go grab a drink. Looks like you have other plans.”

Blue Cat chose that moment to leap onto the arm of the sofa and butt his head against Daniel’s thigh. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned that his mistress had a hot guy answering her door mere days after asking her boyfriend for space.

Daniel scratched Blue Cat’s ears, looking slightly more concerned than my feline companion. Blue Cat purred loudly and drooled on my sofa, pleased that his favorite person on the planet had joined our cozy get-together.

“Right,” I said, clearing my throat. “Daniel, meet Pete. Pete, meet Daniel. Pete works at the landfill. Daniel is my– um, my–”

“Boyfriend,” Daniel supplied, reaching out to shake Pete’s hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Dude,” Lori said from behind me, stepping on my heel to let me know she had my back. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said she’s your girlfriend. I thought there was some sort of company rule about that.”

“The rules have changed,” Daniel said carefully.

“They have,” I agreed, not sure we were just talking about the handbook. “Look, I’m kind of busy this evening, but maybe we could get together some other time?”

“Right,” Daniel said. He glanced over my shoulder where Adam sat watching TV, politely refraining from adding additional awkwardness to the situation.

“We’re not all here having an orgy, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Lori offered.

Daniel frowned. “Why would an orgy be on my list of assumptions?”

“I’m just saying,” Lori said. “It might look like a good setup for an orgy, but—”

“Okay, then,” I interrupted, ready to bring the conversation to a halt. “Daniel, thanks for stopping by. I hope you have a lovely evening.”

“I’ll call you.” Before I could reach for the door, he leaned down and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. It wasn’t overt, it wasn’t passionate, but it was a kiss just the same.

And I’ll admit, I kinda wanted more.

“Good night,” I said, and closed the door. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me before I even turned around.

Adam grinned. “Boyfriend?”

“It’s complicated,” I told him.

“Very,” Lori agreed as she perched on the arm of the sofa.

“Okay,” I agreed. “So I’ll just finish up those apricot balls.”

My cheeks were flaming as I turned and marched back toward the kitchen. Pete touched my arm. “Mind if I refill my water?”

“Sure, right this way.”

Lori shot me a questioning look, clearly trying to discern my comfort level with being alone in the kitchen with Pete.

I nodded once, prompting my protective baby sister to perch on the arm of the sofa as far from Adam as she could possibly be while still sharing the same piece of furniture.

I could feel Pete right behind me as I rounded the corner into the kitchen and used my elbow to nudge on the faucet. I stuck my hands under the water and began scrubbing at the apricot goo.

“You okay?” Pete asked as he pressed his glass against my refrigerator’s in-door icemaker.

“I’m fine,” I said, daring to look up at him. “Sorry about the scene with Daniel. Kinda awkward.”

“No problem,” Pete said. He set down his water glass and handed me a dishtowel. “I know all about how weird on-again, off-again relationships can be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t elaborate, though I was dying to know if he was referring to his current girlfriend or someone else entirely.

“I hope my being here didn’t make things more uncomfortable for you,” he added.

“No, I was glad to have you here.”

Pete smiled and my insides went gooey. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the apricot balls.

Before I could register what was happening, Pete caught my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. He held it for a few seconds, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my stomach do a crazy little twirl.

I opened my mouth, not sure what the hell I intended to say. Was this a friendly “I feel your pain” kind of squeeze or an “I want to get you naked” kind of squeeze?

He let go of my hand before I could ask, then turned and walked back to the living room. I stood there like a moron with my jaw hanging open, the dishtowel dangling from my free hand, and every nerve in my body screaming
More! More!

“Hey, cool!” Pete’s voice called from the living room. “A
Die Hard
marathon.”

“I know, right?” Adam replied. “So hypothetically speaking, in a fight between Colt McTrigger and John McClane, do you think you’d kick his ass?”

“With or without the bionic arm?”

“With. Obviously.”

“Would he get a Taser gun?”

Lori walked into the kitchen rolling her eyes.

I set down the dish towel and sighed. “Something tells me this is going to be a long, weird evening.”

THE NEXT MORNING, Lori and I met for coffee at a little bakery beside the police station. Since the cop last night had suggested stopping by in person, we’d decided to show up toting a box of donuts as a goodwill gesture.