Say Nothing... (The Speak Series Book 2) (32 page)

My phone rings just as I'm pulling my shirt over my head.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. How was your first day?" She sounds happy and the sound of her voice eases my anxiety.

"Long. This case is a doozy. I just got home."

"Dang, it's what eight over there? So how are the other interns?"

"Yeah, it's a little after eight. They were cool. Jack is from here. He used to play rugby in college, so we have that in common. Tamara is from New York and her boyfriend lives out here."

"Cool. I'm glad you like them."

"So what are you up to? How's work?"

"It's quiet. Jalen was here when I got in. He was flirting with Natalie and asked her to lunch. I'm just covering the phones until she gets back."

"Hmm . . .”

"Stop. He was here to drop off a form the attorneys needed."

I can't help my reaction to that douche. I don't trust him.

"My cousin is going to be staying with me for a few days," she blurts, interrupting my murderous thoughts.

"That's good. I'm glad you'll have someone there to keep you company. She seems nice."

"You're only saying that because she thinks you're hot."

"And you don't?"

"Shut it, or I'll jump on a plane to show you what I think."

"Well, then, maybe I'll just keep talking." She giggles and then the ringing of another line sounds through the phone.

"Shit. That's the other line. Hold on." It's a few minutes before she comes back.

"I'm sorry, babe. Looks like my quiet day just took a turn. Can I give you a call tonight? Maybe be your wake-up call again?"

"I'd like that. Okay, get to it. I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Love you."

My favorite playlist is blaring in the background as I sing my way through the annoying L.A. traffic. Natalie's one-hour lunch ended up turning into almost two. She came back all starry-eyed, and I was dying to ask her what happened, but the phones wouldn't let up long enough for me to. It's a miracle I was able to leave on time. Having had to work through my lunch, I'm now
hangry
. I sent Letty a text asking her to meet me for dinner before going to the apartment.

I notice her sitting at the bar as soon as I walk in. We don't look anything alike. Her pale skin against her jet-black bob brings out the only feature we do share, which are our hazel eyes. She's a few inches shorter than I am with a much smaller butt. In usual Letty fashion, she has every guy at the bar falling all over himself to get her attention.

"Hey,
prima
,” she says handing me a beer as I approach. I take the glass from her crinkling my nose.

"Relax, it’s girly beer. Tastes like apples or something. They didn't have sangria."

"Thank you. So what's up with the fan club?" I say gesturing to the group of guys currently undressing her with their eyes.

"Shoot. I can't help it if they want a piece of this."

"Come on, you nut. Let's go grab a table," I say with a laugh.

We're seated in a small booth in the corner and waste no time ordering.

"So, roomie, am I gonna have to put a plastic cover on the couch or are you going to keep your hormones in check?"

"Gross. I'm a lady. I'll just go to their house." I shake my head. I definitely won't be bored having her around.

"All right, all kidding aside. How are you doing? Your sisters were worried about you. You gonna be okay or do I need to order a straitjacket?"

"Gee. Thanks."

"I know this is your first serious boyfriend. I get it, but I can't have you going all nutso on me," she says narrowing her eyes.

"I'm good. There's just a lot going on. It's not just about him leaving, it's-"

I catch myself.

"Never mind. I just have a lot on my plate right now. I'm working on it. Besides, having you around to keep my mind off things is already helping."

"No worries, I'll keep you busy. Our first order of business will be the gym. Our asses are going to need it after all the crap we just ordered."

We inhale our delicious burgers and sweet potato fries while reminiscing about all the crap we used to get ourselves into as little girls. She had beer leaking out of my nose more than once from laughing so hard. We should have known back then she would be a makeup artist. She was always trying to turn us into princesses and monsters; her best one was a clown. She got a hold of red lipstick and made us big, red lips. My mom about passed out when it wouldn't come off. My sisters and I looked like we had a face rash for a week.

Cheeks sore from laughing, we wrap up dinner and head back to the apartment. Letty follows behind me, and I point her toward Ben’s usual parking spot as we pull up. The lights of my car shine in my space, and I notice three Gerbera daisies lying on the ground.
Amos
is my first thought and something in me snaps. Throwing the car into park, I jump out and do exactly what I should have done the first time he sent me flowers. Swiping them up from the ground, I angrily crush every last petal spreading them across the pavement.

"Are you out there, asshole? This is what I think of your flowers." Jumping back into my car before someone calls the cops, I park over my flowery mess.

The usual fear that comes over me when I know he's near has turned to anger. I storm toward my apartment and stop short at the sight of Letty cradling a large bouquet of red roses.

She smiles, opens her mouth to speak, and I snatch them from her before she can get a word out. Red petals fly around me as I swing the buds repeatedly against the door in a blind rage. Every pent-up emotion boils over and I'm left a shaken mess with a handful of long green stems. My breathing is labored, and my heart is beating out of my chest.

"Are you sure you don't need that straitjacket?" Letty asks placing a hand on my shoulder.

A nervous laugh bubbles up as she wraps me in a hug.

"Come on. Let's get you inside before the neighbors call the looney bin."

She drops her bag by the door and goes straight to the kitchen.

"Okay, where do you keep the hard stuff? None of that sangria bullshit you like to drink."

"There's a bottle of tequila in the cupboard above the coffeemaker."

She finds the bottle and doesn't bother asking for shot glasses. I watch as she pours a few fingers into two mugs.

"Here." I tip it back flinching at the slight burn. Taking a few more deep breaths, I let the warmth in my belly calm me.

"All right, now that you've calmed the fuck down. What the hell was that about?"

I knew this was coming; no way was I going to get away with acting like a complete lunatic and not be questioned about it. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the back of the couch. I need a minute to figure out how I'm going to approach this.

"Just because you've closed your eyes doesn't mean I can't see you. The invisible game didn't work when we were seven, and it sure as shit isn't going to work now. Spill it."

Smartass.

"C'mon, Relz, whose ass do I have to kick?"

"Ugh . . . you're not kicking anyone's ass, all right. I got it handled."

"Clearly, you don't have it handled,” she interrupts. “I could have YouTubed that shit out there."

How do you tell someone who’s known you your whole life that you've been keeping a secret?

"I don't get it. Are you mad at him or something? I mean the note doesn’t say much, but the flowers were really beautiful."

My eyes pop open, and she's holding up a small card.

"What?"

She hands it to me.

Thinking of you. Love, Ben

"What’s that look about?"

I place it on the coffee table completely dumbfounded.

"I know I'm acting insane right now, but trust me, there's a reason. I'm going to go lie down until I can figure out what the fuck is going on. I promise we'll talk about it tomorrow." She nods and I walk to my bedroom without another word.

My eyes flit to the time as I finish getting ready. She's late, and I'm anxious to talk to her before I have to leave for work. Fuck it. I FaceTime her and it rings once before I'm rejected. I'm about to try again when her picture flashes across my screen. I found it while I was looking through my phone the other day. It's a selfie she must have taken when I wasn't paying attention.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey."

"I was looking forward to our call. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Her famous words and I wish I could believe her.

"You sound funny. Are you getting sick?"

"No, I'm good."

"Did you get the flowers I sent? Amos did me the favor of dropping them off. I was having a hard time getting a florist to leave them without a signature." She's silent for what seems like forever.

"Yes, thank you."
Okay.
 This isn't how I expected this conversation going. She should be gushing over them; I mean what girl doesn't love getting flowers. Although, I never really asked her what her favorite flower was. Maybe she hates roses.

"Something’s off. I need to see you. I'm FaceTiming you. Answer your phone." I end our call and dial her again. It rings a few times before she picks up.

Her puffy eyes and red nose tell me all I need to know.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, just a bad night. Nothing a good cry and some writing can't cure," she says holding up that ridiculous Ryan Gosling journal.

"Where's your cousin? I thought she was spending the night."

"She is. She's in the living room."

"Okay . . . did you two get in a fight?" I ask confused.

She fidgets with the hem of her tank and stares into space.

"Babe?"

"I need you to stop sending him here," she snaps.

"Who?" It takes me a minute to realize who she's talking about.

"Why? Was he there when you got home?"

"No. I'm just not comfortable with you sending him over to check up on me. I told you how I feel about him. It's weird. I don't need a fricken babysitter."

"Okay. I know how you feel about him so that's why I asked him to go by when I knew you wouldn't be home. I don't understand why it's such a big deal. He was delivering something for me. He wasn't checking up on you." She looks at the ceiling and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"It's not a big deal to you. Look, I know he's your family, and he's trying to get closer to you or whatever. I just . . . I just don't want him near me."

"Ari, did he say or do something to you?"

She fidgets with her shirt again.

"Look at me. Did he?"

"No," she says quickly. "I'd just rather have someone, anyone else but him, coming over here. Okay? Shit, even your mother would be a better option." I chuckle at the thought. If she only knew . . . my mother thinks she's on drugs.

"Point taken. It won't happen again."

"I'm serious. Promise me," she says sternly.

"Ari, it won't happen again. Promise."

She looks into the camera, and dammit all to hell, I want to jump in and hold her.

"Shit. I have to go, babe, I'm going to be late," I say noticing the time on the clock behind her.

"Can I try you tomorrow afternoon? Your time," I ask.

"Yeah, just send me a text, and I'll try to sneak away."

We say our final good-byes, and I clear the screen.

Happy Tuesday.