Painless (32 page)

“Yeah?”

“No. More. Fights.”

“I hear you loud and clear.”

“Then my job is done. Now, I have a steak waiting for me with my name on it. I’ve got to run. Bye.”

“Later, man.” I ended the call. While I felt fortunate to have Russell watching my back, as always, his expert services weren’t going to be cheap. At the rate things were going, I was going to run out of money before this case was over.

Too bad I’d destroyed that painting of Isabella. I could’ve gotten at least ten grand for it.

Whatever.

Stanford Wentworth had been right. That painting was a piece of shit. I wasn’t going to lose sleep over it.

I walked inside to join everyone.

Maybe Samantha’s parents could cheer me up.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

===

SAMANTHA

“Does anybody need a refill on their lemonade?” Spiridon asked.

Everyone, including Christos, was standing in the kitchen.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” my dad said as he looked at his watch, “but with the three hour time difference, I’m starving. Are you ready to eat, Linda? Remember, we still need to stop by Motel 6 to get our luggage at some point.”

My mom sighed heavily. “Sure.”

She sounded so happy to be here. The feeling was mutual.

“Is there a Cheesecake Factory around here somewhere?” my dad asked.

Leave it to my parents to fly across the country and eat at the same chain restaurant they always went to back home. Their sense of adventure made Christopher Columbus look like a homebody. Not.

“Yeah,” Christos said, “I think there’s one near Hotel Circle.”

“That’s near our motel,” my dad beamed. “We can kill two birds with one stone and get our luggage after dinner.”

Dad could kill three birds with one stone if he smashed me over the head and put me out of my misery.

Then an idea hit me. “Why don’t we invite my friends?” I suggested. “Then you can meet all the cool people I’ve met in San Diego!”

“I was thinking it would just be you, your mother, and I,” Dad said soberly.

“I agree with your father,” my mom said.

I knew what they were thinking. They wanted to corner me and berate me for being an idiot until I changed my major back to Accounting.

It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll text everybody right now,” I said, undeterred. I invited Madison, Jake, Romeo, and Kamiko. I’d gotten Jake’s contact info, as well as Spiridon’s, after Christos’ trial. I hated not being able to reach people in an emergency.
 

I briefly considered asking Christos to invite Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse. I was pretty sure her and my mom would bond over their bitchery. In the end, I decided we could do without her. No surprise there.

I pressed send and crossed my fingers that everyone would be able to join us. If they all showed up, I’d be like the quarterback in a football game with all the offensive linemen protecting me from my parents. I wasn’t going to let them blindside me. No way.

When we walked out to the driveway, my parents headed toward their rental car.

“Sam,” my dad asked, “are you coming with your mother and I?”

“I think I’ll ride with Christos and Spiridon,” I said. Did I sound snarky? Only a little.

“Suit yourself,” Mom said as she climbed into the car, which I noticed was a silver Honda sedan. Just like Dad’s car back home. What a surprise. I’d have thought since he was on vacation, he’d go crazy and rent a red Honda. Nope.

“I think I feel like driving the Woody tonight,” Spiridon said. The garage door was already open. “Do you mind, Christos?”

“Not at all,” he said.

The three of us climbed into the classic car. Yeah, we were a million times cooler than my parents.

The engine of the 1949 Plymouth station wagon purred as it pulled out of the garage. Spiridon stopped the car beside my parents’ Honda. My dad rolled the window down and Spiridon asked, “Do you know where we’re going?”

“I’ll follow you,” Dad answered.

Didn’t he know how to use the GPS? I’d seen it in their car earlier. Oh wait, we were talking about my dad. Of course not.

“Don’t go too fast,” my dad said nervously. “I adhere to the speed limit.”

“Don’t worry, Bill,” Spiridon smiled, “I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

I think Spiridon was being too optimistic. When it came to most things, my parents were already totally lost.

Chapter 15

SAMANTHA

“This sexy beast can only be your mother,” Romeo said as he shook my mom’s hand in the lobby of the Cheesecake factory.
 

Romeo actually lifted my mom’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. She tugged her hand away with a hint of disgust before he was finished, surprising Romeo.

“I do have that affect on the ladies,” Romeo winked at her.

My mom scowled at him. I’m sure she was confused. The only romance in her life came from my dad. He was as spontaneous with his romantic gestures as he was with his choice of rental cars.

Kamiko, Madison and Jake were also here. With Spiridon and Christos at my side, that made it seven on two against my parents.

I had high hopes for the evening.

The restaurant was packed, so we had to wait awhile for our table. Madison cornered my parents and asked them a million questions about Washington D.C. I think she was trying to keep them occupied. She understood. She was my own personal emotional bodyguard.

When we were finally seated and the waiter took our drink order, I wasn’t surprised that Christos ordered a double bourbon. With my parents in town, I considered joining him. But I decided I needed to be alert, in case my parents tried to launch a sneak attack. For all I knew they’d blindfold me and throw me in a packing crate the first chance they got so they could ship me back to D.C.

But I could tell something was bothering Christos more than usual. The obvious answer was my parents, but I suspected it was something else. I leaned over and whispered to Christos, “Who called earlier? Is it something I should be worrying about?”

“No,
agápi mou
. It’s fine,” he smiled.

“You sure?”

“You let me worry about it. Enjoy yourself.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be any worse news than my parents arriving out of nowhere,” I groaned.

Christos chuckled. “True that.” He rested his hand on my knee under the table and looked me in the eyes.
 

I couldn’t get over how handsome Christos was, even in the middle of his bourbon buzz. His face was so relaxed and dreamy, I wanted nothing more than to fall into his enchanting eyes right at the dinner table. So what if my parents might see? I eyed Christos’ luscious mouth and nibbled on my lower lip. His lips spread in a wide smile over his immaculate white teeth. His legendary dimples appeared. I teased my upper lip with my tongue and giggled softly. I was going to lick those dimples of his, no matter who was watching. I leaned forward, about to—

“Sam?” my mom blurted. “What are you going to eat?”

Dimples? I jolted out of fantasyland and frowned. No, I think my mom meant for dinner. Embarrassment and irritation crackled inside my chest.

My mom’s voice was her special gift. Children everywhere clamored for my mom to read them bedtime stories and soothe their nighttime fears with that voice of hers. No, seriously. My mom was world famous for her bedside manner. She taught sold-out seminars in mothering to giant auditoriums packed full of people. Seriously.

Not.

The waiter was standing at the table with his notepad in hand, waiting to take my order. I hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. I think Christos had hypnotized me with his beautiful blues. Time had slid right by. That was easy to do with Christos by my side.

The waiter arched an expectant eyebrow at me.

I glanced down at the menu, “Oh, um, I’ll have the Asian Chicken Salad?”

“Excellent,” the waiter said, “and for you sir?” he asked Christos.

“I’ll have crab cakes for an appetizer and the grilled rib-eye with mashed potatoes and gravy.”

How was it that Christos could eat like a horse and never have an ounce of body fat? It was ridiculous. Maybe all the drinking kept him slim? No, probably not. It had to be all the sex we had. But that was on hold until Mom and Dad were gone. Sigh.

Sometime later, after the waiter had dropped off everyone’s entrees and people were eating and chatting, Romeo said to Kamiko, loud enough for the whole table to hear, “Our waiter sure is hot. Did you see the bulge in the front of his pants?”

Kamiko frowned, “Romeo! Do you
always
have dick on the brain?”

Romeo grinned, “Yes. I like them on the brain and anyplace else I can fit them.”

“Them? As in, plural?” Madison asked.

“As in, a plethora,” Romeo smiled, “A cornucopia.”

Madison giggled. Jake and Spiridon chuckled. Christos smiled while he chewed.

My parents looked shocked. They weren’t used to this sort of talk, especially not at the dinner table. It had become normal to me. Maybe my parents needed a good old dose of Samantha’s San Diego. I wasn’t their little girl anymore. I was tired of trying to be someone I wasn’t, just to suit them. I needed to live my life my own way, not theirs. If they didn’t like my friends, they could suck it.

“I think Romeo needs a dick intervention,” Kamiko joked.

“I assure you, Kamiko,” Romeo said, “I’ll never kick the dick. I’m a regular Dickaholic, darling. You’ll never catch me at an Alcoholdicks Anonymous meeting. Not that I’m suggesting you frequent such meetings. I know how much you hate the flesh pistols.”

Christos raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Aren’t the Flesh Pistols a band?” Madison asked. “Weren’t they, like, a punk band from the U.K.?”

“That’s The Sex Pistols, darling,” Romeo corrected.
 

“The Who?” Kamiko asked.

Romeo shook his head. “No, that’s Roger Daltry and Pete Townshend. I’m talking about Johnny Rotten? Sid Vicious? You have heard of them, haven’t you Kamiko?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Kamiko shook her heard vigorously. “What the hell are you talking about?” She was totally frazzled.

My parents were even more lost. They exchanged a perplexed glance like they’d woken up in an insane asylum.

“I know, I know, Kamiko,” Romeo sighed. “If it’s not on Cartoon Network, you have no idea what I’m talking about. How about—” Romeo lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned over to Kamiko’s ear, “Locally grown…Butter Lettuce…”

Kamiko’s eyes lit up like fireworks and she beamed a smile. “Butter Lettuce party!!!”

Romeo sighed and hung his head. “I swear, Kamiko, you can’t be more than nine years old.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about,” Spiridon laughed. Even he was lost now, but he wasn’t horrified like my parents.

“It’s a line from Bravest Warriors,” Romeo groaned. “A
cartoon
.” He said the word ‘cartoon’ like it was offensive.

Kamiko clapped her hands merrily. “I totally forgot! There’s a new episode of Bravest Warriors going up on YouTube tonight! I can’t wait to watch it when I get home!”

Romeo shook his head, defeated. He leaned toward my mom and said, “I should’ve left Kamiko with the babysitter.”

My mom leaned away from Romeo like he had leprosy or carried a highly contagious strain of flesh eating bacteria.

Kamiko smacked Romeo on the arm.

My mom jumped in her chair and winced as if she’d been the one Kamiko had hit.

“Ow!” Romeo shouted, turning to face Kamiko.

“Who’s the baby now,” Kamiko grinned.

“Why do you have to be so abusive, Kamiko?” Romeo rubbed his arm. “I’m not a cartoon, you know.”

“Maybe if you were, you wouldn’t be such a baby!” Kamiko squealed.

I secretly hoped my parents would be the ones who decided to slip out unnoticed because of how weird everyone was acting. Let them be the uncomfortable ones for a change.
 

This was my world, bitches!

Christos leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, “Having fun?”

“Totally,” I smiled at him.

I had the best friends, and the best boyfriend, ever!

===

Acid spewed from my mom’s mouth as she said, “I knew that Christos was no good the first time I met him.”
 

I stood beside her and my dad outside the elaborate chimpanzee exhibit at the San Diego Zoo several days later.
 

She continued, “He acted like a Boy Scout when he was staying at our house in D.C., but I knew it was only a matter of time until a boy like him showed his true colors.”

Christos and Spiridon had gone off to find some drinks for everybody because we were all thirsty. My mom had suggested the three of us stay and watch the chimps. I should’ve known she was scheming.
 

I had managed to make it through almost the entire week of my Spring Break without getting into any arguments with my parents. They hadn’t made a peep about me or my living arrangements or my Art major while we’d gone to Sea World, the San Diego Wild Animal Park, Old Town San Diego, Pacific Beach, downtown to the Gaslamp, and to Coronado Island.

We’d even toured the USS Midway aircraft carrier, which had been Dad’s idea. The Midway turned out to be amazing because our tour guide had actually worked on the Midway in the 1950s and told us lots of insider stories about his tour of duty.
 

I think my dad and Christos bonded a little while they looked at all the jet fighters on the deck and talked about how fast they went and all the missiles they carried. I was glad to listen to their man talk if it meant my dad wasn’t giving me a hard time about my art.
 

The only time my dad had said anything remotely negative was when we’d gone to Balboa park to see the San Diego Museum of Art. When we ended up in front of one of Spiridon’s paintings, my dad had said, “Well, I’ll be damned,” as he squinted at the title card next to the painting, as if maybe Spiridon had been lying about it.

Through all that, there had been no arguments. I think it had something to do with the fact that I made sure I was never alone in my parents’ presence for even a second. Christos or Spiridon were always by my side. I had fantasized that maybe everything between me and my parents was fine. I should’ve known better. They were ticking time bombs. They hadn’t flown all the way out to San Diego just for a vacation.