Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) (23 page)

           
“Well, if you see his ghost when you’re on your way to
the airport, tell it to fuck off.”

Chelsea giggled at the
visual I created and switched the conversation to regular things like what she
got for Christmas and how she spent New Year’s Eve with her parents. She
couldn’t wait to get back to LA and to the warmer weather.

           
“It’s been freezing rain or snowing every day I’ve been
here,” she whined. “And my tan is fading.” I could picture her pouting into her
phone.

           
“Jason and I ate dinner outside tonight,” I said, rubbing
it in.

           
“I don’t want to hear how you ate outside.” Based on her
tone, I knew she was teasing especially when she asked, “Jason, huh?”

           
“It’s not like that, although he hasn’t been shy about
telling me he wants more.” I proceeded to fill her in on our conversation and
the blurry boundaries we seemed to have established. We talked for a few more
minutes until I heard Chelsea yawning. It was after midnight in Pennsylvania,
so we ended our call both equally excited to see each other in two days.

I wasn’t anywhere close
to going to bed with a belly full of tacos and energy to burn, so I booted up
the laptop and logged on to Facebook for the first time in over two months.
According to the red balloon, I had over 500 notifications and I immediately
got overwhelmed. What was I going to tell people? I had literally dropped off
the grid and certainly could not tell the truth as to why.

Before writing
anything, I scrolled through my feed and saw that one of my friends from
college had gotten engaged on New Year’s Eve. Checking out other profiles
revealed that another friend from college, plus a friend from high school also
got engaged over the holidays. I’d heard about this phenomenon happening, where
post-college, your mid to late-twenties consist of one wedding after another.
The irony of this wasn’t lost on me as I changed my relationship status to
“single” before posting a status update:
I’m
fine and living in LA with Chelsea. I’m sorry for disappearing, but it’s been
complicated. Things are much better.

That was the most I
could do as I knew that post was going to create a shit storm of inquiries.

***

The next day I went for
a liberating run outside, each press of a heel to the asphalt expelled any
lingering anxiety over Marco. He couldn’t hurt me anymore. I got back to the
apartment and showered. It was another warm day so I slipped on a sundress and
as I was going through my velvet pouch of jewelry, I stopped when my fingers
brushed across the diamond teardrop necklace Dom had given me at my graduation
party. I pulled it out, fingering the gold chain and tracing the swirl of gold
holding the diamond in place before clasping it around my neck. The gem landed
just shy of between my breasts. The cool metal quickly warmed to my body
temperature and the weight was familiar, like I had never taken it off.

I spent the rest of the
afternoon washing Chelsea’s bedding since she was on her way home. I did a
quick sweep of the bedroom, removing any of my items, even vacuuming her room
because she was such a neat freak and I, well, I wasn’t.

It was back to the
futon for me, but did it have to be? I started thinking about getting my own
place or seeing if Chelsea wanted to move into a two bedroom apartment, but I
wasn’t one hundred percent sure I was going to stay in California. A decision
was going to have to be made soon.

Chelsea roared into
town like a hurricane carrying all sorts of gossip from our hometown on her
gale force winds. We sat on the futon as she filled me in on who got engaged,
who got knocked up and about two high school sweethearts from our class who got
married right after we graduated and were in the process of getting a divorce
because the guy came out of the closet. She brought back a container of her
mom’s famous Christmas mint fudge and I devoured three pieces even though it
was slightly stale, while Chelsea spilled the gossip.

           
“Oh, I forgot! I saw Grant and he wanted me to give you
his present.” She disappeared inyo her bedroom and returned moments later with
a wrapped gift about the size of a clothing box. I immediately opened it and
found a framed picture underneath several layers of green tissue paper. The
picture was of me, Grant and my mom from my graduation party. Grant was
standing in the middle with his arms around our waists. He had always been the
glue to keep our dysfunctional family unit together. I had the necklace on that
Dominic had given me that night. As I stared at the image, I absentmindedly
played with the diamond pendant. I lifted the frame out of the box and set it
on the coffee table. I was getting ready to set the box down when I noticed a
card. I opened the envelope and a Visa gift card fell out onto the floor. I
picked it up and gasped at the amount. “Holy shit!”

           
“What?” Chelsea asked.

           
“It’s for a thousand dollars.”

           
“Holy shit is right. Want to switch brothers?”

I laughed and flipped
open the regular card to read the message Grant had written in his cramped, yet
very legible handwriting:
Christmas
wasn’t the same without you. Miss ya, sis. Love, Grant.

My throat grew thick
with emotion and I blinked away newly formed tears. Expressing love wasn’t big
in our family so for him to write that meant a lot. It also made me very
homesick. Not for my childhood home, but for life in Philadelphia with Grant;
our impromptu lunches or occasional runs through Fairmount Park. I even missed
his overprotective tendencies.

Life fell into a
relatively relaxed routine over the next month while I worked at Dirty, hung
out with Chelsea, continued surf lessons with Jason and shooting lessons with
Victor. I was running more frequently and felt stronger than ever. Every time
an ice storm or snurricane hit the east coast, I laughed and went out to play
in the California sun, making sure to post as many pictures to Instagram as
possible.

There were benefits to
winter in Philadelphia and Dominic reminded me of that on the day that would
have been our one year anniversary. I was at work, but it was still early so I
had time to sit in the break room and eat a snack, when my cell phone buzzed.
Dominic had texted me a picture of us taken at the skating rink where he took
me on our first official date, the same night we first made love. In the image,
my cheeks were flushed; a result of the combination of cold, excitement and the
visceral reaction I experienced whenever I was near Dom. He had taken the
picture with his phone, selfie-style, and my head was resting on his shoulder.
Dom had tucked me against his side, keeping his arm around my waist. I smiled
and traced my fingertip along Dom’s lips, remembering how soft yet firm they
were and instantly felt my body warm up and tingle in all of the right places.

           
“Whatcha doing?” Jason said from behind me and I jumped,
quickly locking my phone to shut the screen down. Even though Jason and I
weren’t together, I still felt guilty whenever I communicated with Dom. Being
caught when my hormones were threatening to boil over didn’t help my body
temperature to drop. I was single and still dealing with relationship issues.

           
“Nothing, just playing Candy Crush.” The game was another
thing restored to my life since I was able to come out of hiding.

           
“Cool, well Callie wanted me to let you know she needs
you on the floor. It’s beginning to get busy.” He ducked back out the door and
I stashed my phone in my bag before following to catch up with him.

           
“Oh, so Derek and Chelsea will be in later,” Jason said,
talking loudly over the band doing a sound check.

           
“That’s cool.” I knew they were going out on a date, but
didn’t know the details.

           
“Yeah, Derek was pretty nervous about tonight.”

           
“Why?” I stopped walking and grabbed a hold of Jason’s
arm. “He’s not breaking up with her, is he?” If that was the case, I needed to
be forewarned. Chelsea’s last break up was a nightmare ordeal that left her
meddling in my relationship with Dom, which eventually led up to our big fight.

           
“No, quite the opposite,” Jason said with a wink then
left me to ponder the possibilities.

It was almost midnight
when Derek and Chelsea arrived and I got my answer. The glow radiating from
Chelsea could probably be seen from space. She practically skipped her way
through the crowd before latching on to me with a squeal.

           
“Oh my God Natalie, Derek asked me to marry him!” she
blurted out in one long rushed sentence. She released my upper arms and stepped
back, thrusting her left hand into my face. A simple princess-cut diamond
glittered on her finger, reflecting the red and blue stage lights. “I said
yes!” She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet with a massive smile
plastered on her face.

           
“Congrats, Chels! Let me see.” I dutifully grabbed her
hand and brought the ring closer for further examination. It was gorgeous and I
made sure to tell her so, which just caused her smile to expand and I was
afraid her face was going to split in half. I pulled her into a hug and she
returned it Chelsea-style, throwing her whole body into it with bone breaking
intensity. Derek arrived with a martini in each hand, passing one to his fiancée.

           
“These are on the house, courtesy of our Best Man,” he
said.

           
“Oh, Nat, I almost forgot…will you be my Maid of Honor?”
Chelsea asked.

           
“Of course!”

Chelsea squealed again
and handed her drink over to Derek so she could pull me into another hug. “I
love you Nat, you’re the best.”

           
“I love you too. So who’s the Best Man?” I asked since
Derek was tight with both Jason and Collin who were behind the bar slinging
drinks.

           
“Jason,” he answered.

Just then a customer
waved at me for a round of drinks so I excused myself and got back to work.
“We’ll talk later,” I said to Chelsea, giving her a kiss on the cheek before
pushing through the crowd surrounding the bar.
 

It wasn’t until after
closing that I had a chance to absorb the news. My best friend was getting
married. Chelsea had been spending a lot of time with Derek, but I never knew
how serious they really were. I assumed they’d want to move in together and
since Derek lived with Jason and I lived with Chelsea, one of us was going to
be getting evicted, unless they moved out into their own place. I didn’t
realize how distracted I was until I walked into the bathroom; a row of urinals
was the first clue that I was in the wrong one.
 

I tried to duck out
before anyone saw me, but ran into Jason just as I was leaving.

           
“What are you creeping in here for?” he teased and I felt
my cheeks flush.

           
“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

           
“So that’s some news tonight, huh?” Here he was blocking
the doorway so I was still technically inside the men’s room and he wanted to
talk about the engagement.

           
“It is and I’d love to chat, but not here - it reeks,” I
scrunched my nose up at the odor, a rank combination of beer, farts and a
melting pot of cologne.

Jason laughed and
stepped aside so I could leave. “Let’s go grab something to eat and talk,
okay?”

           
“Sounds good, I’m ready when you are.”

We took Jason’s car and
I shuffled through his iPod for some decent music. He had a bunch of Eminem and
Drake, not the usual music I listened too. Finally, I stumbled across some
Silver Sun Pickups and leaned back, listening. It was a nice night and we drove
with the windows down since traffic was light and we wouldn’t be sucking in
exhaust fumes the entire way. Jason drove to a 24-hour Asian fusion diner,
which was packed with people in various stages of drunkenness. The air
conditioner could barely keep up with the body heat.

A petite hostess led us
to a table for two, weaving through the crowded aisles with the grace of
someone who has been doing this awhile. She wore the standard uniform for the
diner; a Kimono style dress in a bold floral pattern that wrapped around her
waist, but unlike the traditional Kimono, this one was short. A dragon tattoo
covered the lower half of her left leg, the scaly tail, drawn in intricate
detail, twisted around her ankle.

Our table was by the
window, which offered an exciting view of the parking lot. It actually did get
exciting when three black sedans with heavily tinted windows pulled in and
drove towards the back of the building, disappearing from view. Moments later
more dark sedans with tinted windows arrived and it made me think of the night
I was assaulted by Mr. Genovese. We had left Crimson for The Speak in a
procession of black Cadillacs.

A sense of unease made
me put my fork down, the Pad Thai suddenly unappetizing. A knock on the window
next to me made me jump and I almost knocked my iced green tea over. Peering
through the glass, I saw Victor, but only his face at first because he was
wearing all black and had on a baseball cap that cast his eyes in shadows.

           
“What the hell?” Jason said. “What does he want?”

           
“I have no idea.” I fished my phone out and texted Victor
asking him.

Seconds later my phone
vibrated and his response appeared on my display; three words that spurred me
into action:
Get out now
.

           
“Jason, we have to go.” I threw two twenties on the
table, more than enough to cover our bill plus a tip.

           
“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep up with me as
I pushed through the crowd towards the exit.

           
“I don’t think we really want to know. Trust me on this.”
I said as we hurried across the parking lot to his car.

We were a few blocks
away when I heard gunfire and we instinctively ducked like a bullet was going pierce
the rear window at any moment.

Jason was quiet for the
rest of the drive back to Dirty. Tension rolled off of him in waves and even
with the window down, the air felt thick to breathe.

He parked next to my
car and I started to get out when he placed his hand gently on my arm, so I
stopped, turning to face him.

           
“Did you know something was going to go down tonight?” he
asked.

           
“No. I had no idea.” My eyes sought out his in the faint
blue glow from his dashboard. “Victor takes me to the range to practice
shooting, but he doesn’t talk about that kind of stuff and I don’t want to
know.”

Jason exhaled deeply
and I watched as his shoulders relaxed. “So trouble just happens to follow
you?” he said with a smile and I was relieved his humor had returned.

I thought back on all
the situations I had managed to get myself involved in, long before the mafia
mess, and said. “That’s a fair assessment. I’ll see you later.” I reached for
the door handle when my phone buzzed so I pulled it out of my bag to read the
new text.

           
“Great,” I said with a groan and sunk back against the
leather seat.

           
“What?”

           
“Chelsea just texted. Derek’s spending the night and her
bedroom isn’t exactly soundproof.”

I really wasn’t in the
mood to listen to my best friend having sex all night, but didn’t have an
alternative.

           
“You can stay at my apartment,” Jason offered. I must
have given him a look because he quickly added. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.
Unless…” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was as
persistent as a squirrel trying to gain access to a birdfeeder purposely hung
out of reach.

           
“Fine, I’ll follow you over.”

 
I’d been to Jason and Derek’s apartment once
or twice, but it was during the day so actually remembering how to get there at
night when I was still trying to orient myself to landmarks would be
impossible. While Chelsea and I lived in a community one step up from public
housing and our apartment was basically a box with white walls, Jason lived in
a more upscale neighborhood. His community had a security guard at the gate
24/7. The guard waved us through before returning to the newspaper spread out
on his desk. I parked next to Jason in Derek’s spot and we walked together
along a walkway lined with lush landscaping that when I last visited was full
of bright blossoms and palm fronds. At night, with small lights to mark the
path, these plants were hidden in shadow.