Callie called Peter. Although he didn’t remember much about
that night he did recall mentioning Jason to the busty brunette. Callie needed
to make things right. She dropped the kids off with Sam and drove to The Wet
Tee Shirt at four thirty in the afternoon.
The bar was dark and empty when she walked in. She could
hardly see two feet in front of her and started when a man came out of the
shadows. He sidled up to her as she stood nervously by the bar, tapping her
foot and not knowing what to do.
“Looking for a job, little lady?” the man asked, his eyes
traveling her length.
She shook her head, watching his gaze stop at her chest.
“Then what can I do for you?”
“First, you can stop looking at me like that,” Callie said,
stilling her foot.
“Like what? I thought all pretty girls liked to be admired.”
“Admired, yes. Leered at, no. I’m here to see Deena.” Callie
rested a hand on her hip.
“Deena? What for?”
“A private conversation,” Callie said, facing him, staring
into his eyes, exhibiting more courage than she felt.
“About what?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be private, would it?” she
snapped.
“Ow…and she bites too. I like my women feisty.” He faced her
with a cold-eyed stare.
“But I’m not your woman. Deena, please?”
He pointed to the dressing room in the back. Callie gave him
a curt nod and moved to the door. She knocked.
“Come in.”
Callie took a deep breath, put her hand in her pocket to
still its tremble and walked in. She had never come face-to-face with a woman
Mac had slept with before. Her hand continued to shake slightly when she opened
the door and walked in. Deena turned around to look at her.
Deena’s hair was dyed very dark brown and hung down to her
shoulders. Her eyes were brown and her chest size was larger than Callie’s. The
dancer was five foot six, five pounds overweight with long legs. Her face was
pretty but worn, tired looking with lines around her eyes she was too young to
have. She looked older than Callie expected. She eyed Callie, her gaze
traveling up then down the young woman’s body.
“If you’re looking for a job, we don’t need any dancers right
now,” Deena said and turned her attention back to applying eyeliner.
“I’m not looking for a job,” Callie said. “I’m looking for
you.”
“Me? What for?” She narrowed her eyes.
“I want to talk to you for a minute.”
“What about?” She swiveled around in her chair to face
Callie.
“About my husband, Mac Caldwell, and my son, Jason.”
“So you’re Mac’s pretty little bride, eh?” she snorted, a
derisive smirk on her face.
A sound at the door captured Callie’s attention. She saw a
shadow move closer to the open door.
“He’s some catch. You’re a lucky girl,” Deena said, putting
the top back on the eyeliner and returning it to her dressing table, never
taking her eyes off Callie.
“I am,” Callie said.
“Mac and I were together a long time ago. Nothing for you to
worry about,” Deena said, picking up her mascara.
“Mac’s brother, told me he told you Jason, our son, wasn’t
Mac’s biological son. Who did you tell?”
“He told you that? He’s lying,” Deena said, keeping her gaze
on the mirror.
“Lying? Peter? I don’t think so.”
“Hmmmm, Peter. Let me see. Cute blond guy, right?”
Callie nodded.
“He was pretty drunk. Maybe he was talking to Rita, the other
dancer,” Deena said, putting down the mascara, and picking up a tube of red
lipstick, applying it thickly to her lips while she watched Callie in the
mirror.
Callie took a picture of Jason out of her purse and held it
up.
“Please look at this,” she said, stepping closer and shoving
the picture in front of Deena. “This is the little boy you’ll hurt if you go
ahead with this blackmail plan.”
Deena glanced at the picture and her eyes flashed with anger.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never talked to
Mac’s brother. I don’t know anything about blackmail. And as for this kid, I
could care less. Aren’t you the self-righteous little wife and mother. Some
nerve, coming in here and accusing me of blackmail! Go home and screw your
husband. Leave me alone,” Deena spat at Callie.
“I thought you’d have more humanity…”
“Yeah? Hey, you know Mac’s favorite position? He used to beg
me for it all the time.” Deena’s eyes narrowed, a vicious gleam appeared.
“Mac doesn’t have to beg
me
in the bedroom. He gets what he wants, when he wants it!” Callie shot back,
tossing her hair. She turned her back on Deena and sashayed out.
Humiliation swept over her as she walked to the car without
the information she came to get. She underestimated the callousness of the
dancer.
What could Mac have seen in her?
She
smacked her forehead.
He’s a man, isn’t
he?
Callie chewed her lip as she turned the key in the ignition. She was
out of ideas.
* * * *
The next day, after a quick conversation with Peter, Mac put
the pieces together. He climbed into his car, unbuttoned the top button of his
shirt, loosened his tie then started the engine. He headed for The Wet Tee
Shirt.
He walked in and stopped for a moment, letting his eyes
adjust to the darkness. He spied Deena sitting at a table near the stage. She
looked up and her eyes locked with Mac’s. Mac felt anger rise up in his throat;
he hated her for trying to destroy his family but he stuffed the feeling down
before it reached his eyes. He couldn’t let his anger show. He needed to be in
control, cajole her…be friendly…charming, no matter how much it killed him to
sweet talk someone he despised.
“Hi, Deena. How you been? Can I buy you a drink?” he said.
She smiled up at him. A look of lust flashed across her face
as she looked him over. Then she pulled the corners of her mouth down, knitted
her brows and her look turned sour.
“Sure, Mac. Been a long time. What are you doing here?” She
motioned to the bartender.
“I came to see you.” He sat down across from her.
“Yeah? What for?”
“How are you?” Mac lounged back in his chair when the guy
behind the bar brought over their drinks.
“How do you think? I’m still working in this dump, aren’t I?”
Deena sat back in her chair. “You look good, damn good, Mac.” Her gaze traveled
slowly over his body.
“You’re looking good too,” he lied, taking a sip of his drink.
“I’m not surprised to see you,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Your cute little wifey paid me a visit.” Deena narrowed her
eyes.
“Callie was here? She came here?”
“But she didn’t get what she wanted, so I figured you’d
come.”
“What did she want?”
“Beats me, Mac. Is there something wrong with her?”
Mac heard someone moving around behind him.
“You know what I want, Deena.” Mac rested his hand on the
table.
She put her hand on his. He laced his fingers through hers.
“I know what I want.”
“What’s that?” A flirtatious smile curved Mac’s lips.
“You, baby,” Deena whispered, shooting him a heated stare and
squeezing his hand. Mac laughed and squeezed her hand back.
“Much as I’d love another…round with you, honey, do you know
what’d happen to me?”
“You’d have a great time?” She smiled, leaning over the
table, flashing her cleavage at him.
“I’d be drawn and quartered, shot dead, six feet under,
babe.”
“A real bitch, huh?”
“The worst…the general, the old ball and chain.” Mac ignored
the queasy feeling in his stomach caused by his lies.
“Doesn’t like you playin’ around?”
“She’s very jealous…and vindictive. God knows what she’d do
to you after she got through with me,” Mac continued, praying silently for
Callie’s forgiveness.
“Too bad,” she said, giving him a wicked smile. “You still
ring my chimes.” Deena licked her lips slowly.
“I feel the same way.” He leaned in closer to her, purposely
staring at her breasts.
“So if you didn’t come here to get laid, what did you come
for?” Deena asked, raising her eyebrows.
“I need some information.” Mac stroked her hand.
“What could I have…besides my body and my moves?”
“You know what I’m looking for.” Mac’s eyes bored into hers.
“I don’t think so.”
Mac pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket. “You do,
Deena. I think you met my brother, Peter.”
“Peter? I don’t recall,” she said, stuffing the twenty
between her breasts.
“You’d remember him, he’s the best looking guy who ever came
in here.”
“Yeah? I thought you were, Mac.”
“You flatter me,” Mac chuckled, realizing he couldn’t rush
her.
“I noticed him. So what?” She crossed her legs.
“He came in, got drunk then told you something…about my
family.” Mac struggled to control the heat of his anger smoldering beneath the
surface.
“He did? What did he tell me, Mac?” Deena got up and slipped
onto Mac’s lap.
“He told you something about my son,” Mac said, putting his
arms around her.
“What did he tell me, Mac?” She kissed him and slid her hands
up his chest.
“He told you a lie.” Mac nuzzled her neck, shutting his eyes
then covering Deena’s mouth with his.
“Oh, yeah…you still got it, Mac.”
Mac’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“He told you Jason wasn’t my son. But he was wrong.” Mac moved
his mouth to her ear lobe, then down her neck. He slipped his hand over her breast.
“Was he?” she said, her breathing heavy, her eyes closed.
“He was drunk and got it wrong. Jason isn’t Callie’s
biological son, but he is mine.” Mac pulled back, looking into her eyes. His
hand dropped to her waist.
“Why should I care?” she asked, still breathing heavy, her
eyes half-closed.
“Who did you tell, babe?” Mac whispered, his lips sucking on
her ear lobe.
Mac heard the scraping of a chair then footsteps behind him
but he paid no attention. Deena cracked her eyes open. She pushed Mac’s shoulders
back and eased off his lap and back into her own chair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mac.” Suddenly her
face was a mask, a glint of fear showed in her eyes.
“Tell me, for old times’ sake,” Mac said, stroking her hand.
“I didn’t talk to Peter. Must have been someone else. Maybe
Rita. Not me.” Deena shook her head, her eyes watching someone or something
behind Mac. A look of alarm swept over her face then was gone. Mac turned
around, but it was too dark for him to see. He thought there was someone
lurking in the shadows behind the jukebox but he couldn’t be certain.
“So you think you can come here and get laid, huh? You
married men are all alike, always looking for something on the side. Why don’t
you go home and screw the hell out of your perfect little wifey, Mac?” she spat
at him.
Mac was confused for a moment. One glance at her face told
him she was afraid of something or someone. He went along.
“Okay, Deena, if that’s the way it is. My loss…”
“I’m not going to sleep with you, Mac. Get lost,” she
announced louder than necessary, stood up and walked quickly into the back room.
Mac left the bar and drove away. After driving around for an
hour, he went home, late.
“Late today…” Callie noted when he came through the door.
“I need a shower,” Mac said, stripping off his shirt.
He got in the shower and stood there trying to wash off the
lies and ugliness of his encounter with Deena. He did what he had to but still
came up empty. When he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth three times
to get the taste of Deena out of his mouth. Then he wound a towel around his
waist.
Callie saved some beef stew for Mac, but all he asked for was
scotch. She poured him a drink and he came into the living room wearing his
towel. After downing the drink quickly, he poured another. She poured one and
sat down next to him.
“What happened? That’s the longest shower you’ve ever
taken…alone.”
“Why did you go see Deena?” Mac asked, ignoring her comments.
“How did you know?” Callie raised her eyebrows.
“She told me. I know, I know, I said I’d never see her again,
but this is a different situation. Why did you see her?”
“I wanted to find out who she gave our information to, but
she wouldn’t tell me. I hope I didn’t make things worse,” Callie said, chewing
on her lip.
“You didn’t. But she was expecting me. It might have been
better if I could’ve taken her by surprise.”
“Did you find out who she told?”
Mac turned to look at her innocent face looking up at him.
Tears stung the backs of his eyes, remembering the lies he told, disparaging
Callie, touching Deena and kissing her, even though he didn’t want to. Although
his body was clean, he still felt dirty and deceitful.
“Nope,” he said softly, blinking back the tears.
“What happened?”
“Please don’t ask me. I had to do and say things…I hope you
can forgive me, Callie,” Mac said, looking down at his hands.
“You didn’t have sex with her, did you?” Callie’s breath
caught in her throat.
He shook his head.
“I lied and did other things…said things. Please tell me you
forgive me.”
“Of course I forgive you.” Callie put her palms up against his
bare chest. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. He did
everything he could, short of sleeping with Deena, and still he didn’t have the
truth, but when he looked into her eyes, he could tell she knew.
“I failed.”
“We’ll get the answers, Mac,” she said, resting her face on
his chest.
Mac was relieved to have her in his arms, to have her
forgiveness. He needed to find out who Deena was afraid of. It was nine o’clock,
Mac ditched his towel and got into bed. Callie undressed and slid into the bed
next to him. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, realizing he’d skirted the
infidelity line pretty closely. He glanced over to see Callie studying his
face.