Shameless (18 page)

Chapter 9

“Give it up, Alex. I’m not interested.” Margo stepped over a pile of discarded beer cans as the threesome surveyed the building John and Alex had recently purchased for the youth center. “Nice place you have here, boys.”

John figured all she saw was a run-down, poor excuse of a building with graffiti painted on every flat surface, empty beer cans and broken glass. He imagined those images combined with the acrid smell of urine and other bodily waste kept her from seeing what he and Alex envisioned: a haven for troubled youngsters, a safe place for any kid who needed it, an outlet for all that young and potentially dangerous energy. This building and its location were perfect.

Alex didn’t step over the cans but on top of them, crushing them flat with his size fifteen Reeboks. “I just don’t understand how you can’t like men, Margo. I mean, look at us.” He puffed out his chest like a rutting peacock.

Margo swept her gaze over his massive form. “Exactly my point.” Fragments of glass crunched under their shoes as they started across the room.

“You hurt me, Margo,” Alex said, pressing his hand to his heart. “You know I’m in crazy in love with you.”

“Of course you are. That’s why the list of women you’ve dated since I’ve known you runs longer than my arm.”

“Only because I’m trying to find someone who measures up to you, baby cakes.”

“Then stop dating women whose bra size is bigger than their IQ.”

John chuckled and studied the blueprint in his hands. The wind and rain outside howled through the building, seeping through the cracked windows and rattling the leaky roof. They toured the rest of the building. Margo took copious notes while the men compared the blueprint they’d had drawn up with the actual surroundings. Other than the main gymnasium, they’d asked for classrooms, a reading room, a TV room, and office space, among other basic facilities.

When they arrived back at Gym Everest, John and Alex checked the front desk for messages.

Margo shuffled the notes on her clipboard. “I’ll get these back to you by the end of the day,” she told John.

“Okay. Thanks, Margo. Oh. I sent my agenda for the city council presentation to your computer. When you get a few minutes, could you proof it for me?” He and Alex were scheduled to speak at the next city council meeting to present their plans for the youth center. Getting the council’s support and approval would greatly help their fundraising and publicity efforts.

Alex flagged Margo down before she’d reached the stairs. “Come over here a sec.” He motioned to the window of one of the group exercise rooms.

She stepped beside him. “What?”

He pointed to the group inside. “See that woman in the front row, the one in the hot pink pants?”

“What about her?”

“She’s my date tonight. I’m taking her to
Carmen
.”

“She likes opera?”

“Said she does.”

Margo’s finely arched eyebrows rose. “Hmm. I wouldn’t have pegged her as a fan, but I guess I could be wrong.” Her light blue eyes studied him. “Then again, I wouldn’t have pegged you as one either.”

Alex watched the class for a few minutes after Margo left. He watched his date-to-be, LaRita Ciccone, strut her stuff back and forth across the hardwood floor. She
said
she liked opera, he thought, watching the way her breasts bounced every time she did and sometimes when she didn’t. Maybe they’d go to a Sharks game instead. Damn, with the way she looked, did it really matter what they did? He turned and headed for John’s office. He pictured LaRita’s beautiful bouncing breasts as he climbed the stairs and wondered what her bra size was.

John was unrolling the blueprint onto his desk when Alex knocked on the open door of the office. He waved him over. “I was thinking we might want to move the admin offices over here.” He motioned with his finger. “Otherwise the classrooms will be right over the gym. Could be too loud.”

Alex nodded. “Makes sense.” He plopped on the couch. “I don’t think Margo approves of LaRita.”

“Who’s LaRita?” John asked, still studying the blueprint, ideas and images of the finished project flying through his head and making his adrenaline flow. He couldn’t wait to get this off the ground.

“My date tonight.”

“Ah. And the reason you care what Margo thinks is…?”

Alex shrugged and stretched his legs out, his mammoth thighs pulling taut the fabric of his jeans. “I don’t know. Maybe because she reminds me of Lori.”

“Lori was a lesbian?” John hid his frown. Every woman had to measure up to this mysterious Lori.

“No, wise ass. I meant in other ways. Looks, brains, personality. The whole she-bang. I mean, why can’t I meet a lady who has it all together like they do?

“This LaRita doesn’t have the she-bang you’re looking for?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s got the ‘bang.’” His high-pitched chuckle was soft.

“Now which one is LaRita?” It was hard to keep track of Alex’s women. He went through them faster than a baby went through diapers. He wasn’t being judgmental, as he could say the same about himself. The difference was Alex went into each relationship expecting it to be “the one.” John, on the other hand, had no such plans. He was just looking for female companionship and hopefully a good time in bed.

“She’s the one who applied to teach our Saturday Latin dance classes,” Alex explained.

“The one with the curly-Q fingernails?”

“Yep.”

John pictured the voluptuous beauty with the red fingernails longer than his member. He certainly wouldn’t want anyone with fingernails that freaky within ten feet of his private parts.

“Oh, great,” Alex said. “You’ve got that look on your face, John-boy.”

“What look?”

“You don’t like LaRita either, do you?”

“I don’t know the woman.”

“Uh, huh. Your opinion is just dyin’ to get out.” Alex scooped the air between them. “So, come on. Out with it.”

“Like I said, I don’t know this LaRita. She’s probably a nice woman, but…”  John rubbed his chin. “You want to settle down, but it seems to me you’re asking out the wrong type of woman. I mean, seriously. Can you imagine LaRita changing a diaper with those fingernails?”

Alex seemed to picture it a moment and grimaced.

“Take Sam, for example,” John continued. “If I’d been in the market for a wife, I certainly would never have asked out someone like her.” Sam’s image popped into his brain. Just thinking about her made him feel horny, guilty, and pissed all at the same time.

“Speaking of Sam, when was the last time you saw her?”

John didn’t need to glance at the calendar to answer. “Ten days,” he said. “I expect to hear from her any day.” He frowned and rolled up the blueprint.

“You haven’t spoken to her either?” Alex asked, shifting his big form on the couch, the leather cushions creaking. “That’s kind of, uh—”

“Weird?” John finished.

“I was going to say ‘fucked.’”

John shrugged. “That, too. She’s a hard one to figure out.”

“You still plan on stickin’ it to her ‘til she comes up pregnant?”

John shrugged again. “I have to,” he said quietly, knowing Alex understood. “Besides, I get good sex out of the deal and it’s not like I’m seeing anyone else right now.” Even after that disastrous last “date,” after which any sane man would despise her, he couldn’t get Sam Rossi off his mind. He feared it went deeper than her being Sammy Jo. He could reason with himself it didn’t matter one iota what her personal feelings were for him, but it did matter. He wanted her to like him, to respect him. It irritated the hell out of him she didn’t appear to do either.

His phone beeped. He glanced at the small screen. “Speak of the devil.” His mouth thinned and he answered. “Hello, Samantha!” he said in his best smart-ass tone. “Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice. How the heck are you?”

There was silence on the line, as if she didn’t know how to respond to his mockery. When she finally spoke, she didn’t acknowledge his acerbic greeting, but cut right to the chase. “According to my temperature this morning, it’s time. I would like to meet after work this evening. Same place as before.”

He glanced at his desk calendar and saw he didn’t have plans. He held it up so Alex could see. “After work? Gee, I can’t. I’m busy.” Alex chuckled quietly from the other side of the room. John picked a piece of wrapped candy from the candy dish and threw it at him.

“What about later tonight, nine o’clock or so?”

“Busy.”

“With what?”

“Maybe I have a date. Maybe I’m mowing my lawn. Maybe it’s none of your damn business.”

Her silence lasted longer this time. He heard her sigh. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow is what? Saturday?” He made a show of checking his calendar even though she couldn’t see him. “Hmm. Oh, lucky day. I’m free. Would afternoon or evening work better for you?”

“It’ll have to be evening. I’ll be at my mom’s house in Marysville tomorrow,” she said, not reacting to his sarcasm. “Actually, this works better for me. I can leave for Mom’s tonight. It’ll cut down on my driving time tomorrow.”

As usual, she’d turned the situation around to suit her, and as usual she made sure he knew it. Damn her. “Fine,” John said curtly. “I’ll pencil you in.”

“Fine.” She hung up.

He busied himself with sorting through the papers in his IN box, knowing Alex watched him, waiting to say something. Finally, John snapped, “What?”

“If you dislike her as much as you seem to, why in hell are you still messin’ with her?”

“Because I’m a poor, pitiful excuse of a man.”

“Well, yes, but—” Alex ducked as another piece of wrapped candy flew at him.

“Like I told you before, I owe her.” John shook his head. “I mean, she has this Texas-size chip on her shoulder toward men, and I can’t help feeling I’m somehow responsible.”

“You didn’t kidnap her.”

“No, but I knew what those guys were up to. I could’ve stopped them.”

“So you’re helping her out over guilt.”

“In part.” He shrugged. “Besides — and this’ll probably sound crazy — I kind of like the thought of a part of me living on, even though it won’t have my name. It was always hard knowing my bloodline would end with me, but this way…” He shrugged again.

Alex was quiet a few moments, then he said, “Let me ask you something, John-boy. We’ve been friends a long time, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. What do you want to say? You think I’m nuts for helping her?”

“A guy would be nuts
not
to want to boff her, you know? What I’m getting at is…” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Do you think this has more to do with Amber and Amanda Finch?”

John’s teeth clenched and he shot his friend a warning look. “Don’t go there.”

“Don’t get testy with me. I mean, if you’re helping Sam out of guilt, fine. Even if it’s just cuz you appreciate the regular humps, then that’s okay by me, too.”

“So glad you approve.”

“I’m just wondering if maybe the reason you really decided to help Sam was because…” He cleared his throat. “Is this your way of trying to make things right with the Man Upstairs?”

“Alex.”

“You blame yourself for taking two children away, now you have the chance to put one back—”

“That’s a bunch of B.S.”

“Is it?” Alex asked softly. “How long are you going to punish yourself for what happened, John? You weren’t even driving. It’s not your f—”

John flew out of his chair and glared at his friend. “Not my fault? Two little girls are dead, Drake. They would be alive today if it hadn’t been for me and my stupid friends. I distracted Morris, he missed the stop sign, and we hit that car. The fact I wasn’t the actual driver means jack shit.” He backed off a bit, shoving his fingers through his hair. “Do you know what it feels like to go through life knowing you were in a big way responsible for taking the life of two children, for taking them away from the parents who loved them?”

“No. Can’t even imagine. But you can’t change what happened. You’ve done everything in your power to make things better. I know about the all money you’ve given to MADD, and the money you’ve anonymously sent to the girls’ parents—”