The Break-Up Psychic (14 page)

I look at the yellow blouse in my hands and notice it’s a
v-neck
. I wonder if wearing a turtleneck in August in Texas would draw too much attention? I forget the turtleneck and dress quickly, doing my best to hide the hickey with my long hair. I snatch my makeup bag from the bathroom sink to take with me. I’ll need the whole kit-and-caboodle to hide this love-bite from Brook and Amber. God himself could not save me should Brook get a look at it; she’d probably self-combust.

I hurry back into the bedroom and ignore Luanne who’s spread across the bed watching me with shrewd eyes.

“Where’re your shoes?” she asks.

Damn, I was hoping she wouldn’t notice I’d come in with bare feet. “What do you mean?”

Luanne pushes herself up and off the bed and walks toward me, turning her head this way and that, considering me. She might actually be part bloodhound. Her ability to sniff out the truth puts her in the same league as Sherlock Holmes or David Caruso. “Your shoes, you didn’t come in with them. Did the toe-sucker keep ‘
em
?”

“I must’ve forgotten them at his house,” I half lie. I’ve got to make my escape before she puts this together. It’s only a matter of time.

“Forgot them? You forget a doggie-bag or a spare tube of lip gloss. You don’t forget your shoes when you’re out on a date.” Luanne follows me through the apartment, nose in the air, sniffing out my lies.

“I mean, I remembered that I left them but I couldn’t, I mean, I didn’t have time to go back and get them,” I say, sliding my feet into a pair of ballet flats near the sofa. I adjust the hair over my shoulder to ensure full hickey-coverage and slink toward the door.

Luanne, anticipating my escape plan, rushes ahead of me and blocks my exit. “You’re lying to me,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Huh. Now why would you be lying to me? Have something to hide,
Eleanor
?”

“What?” I screech. “Why would I lie to you?” I do my best to act confused, but she’s not buying it. “Listen, Lu, I’d love to fill you in on all the crazy details, but I’m late for work. Maybe later, okay?”

I reach around Luanne and grab hold of the doorknob. She stands her ground for a few seconds but eventually obliges me by moving aside so I can open the door. I dash out of the apartment and into the hallway, turning to wave to her as I take the first stair. She’s got that bloodhound nose raised high, sniffing me out. I force myself to take one stair at a time, releasing a shaky breath as I disappear from her line of sight. That was close. It’s not that I don’t want to tell Luanne about me and Sam, I do. I just want to figure out what Sam and I are first.

As I round the back of the building and head for my car, Luanne calls out from above me.

“Hey, Ellie!”

I turn and look up at her. Luanne’s hanging out of her bedroom window, an amused look on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Preparation H!” she calls down.

Huh? “What, Lu?”

“Preparation H! It’ll take the puffiness right out of that hickey on your neck. You have a good day now,
darlin
’,” Luanne says sweetly as she disappears back inside the apartment.

Well shit.

I can tell by the look on Brook’s face that I’m in for it the second I step foot in the Bath Shop. Stiletto shoe tapping anxiously on the floor, arms crossed over a full bosom, face like a pit bull ready to take out a late-night burglar. “Well, look who it is. Miss Kick Boxer back from her big blind date,” she says.

My post-sex haze dissipating, an image comes floating to the surface of my mind of a black snake, a mouth wrapped around my big toe, and my foot kicking a gangly moth-crazed pervert in his over-sized nose. I shiver at the memory. “Say what now?”

“You’ve really done it this time, Missy. Peg called me at one a.m. this morning in a sheer panic. She had to drive Ellery to the emergency room to get his nose reset. I had to convince them not to call the cops and have your
tush
dragged to jail!”

Depositing my purse behind the counter and doing a quick hair-over-hickey spot check, I try my best to look ashamed of myself. It’s really hard. “Okay, yes, I did kick him in the nose and I’m sorry for that, but I had my reasons.”

“Had your reasons? Ellie, that man is a
freakin
’ pillar of society. His daddy owns three Waffle & Chicken Huts and is single handedly responsible for the Annual Shriner Pancake Breakfast at the Harlow Bowl and Pool House Emporium.”

“I thought he sold waffles.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass. Do you have any notion of the man you just let slip through your fingers?”

There’s no way out of this, I’m just going to have to tell her the truth. “Brook, I’m sorry to be the one that has to tell you this, but your second cousin Ellery is a toe-sucker.”

Brook’s terse mouth loosens. Her
botoxed
eyebrows barely move but her eyes double in size. “A toe-sucker?”

“Unfortunately, yes. He’s a lover of the little
piggies
,” I say, shrugging my shoulders and bringing my palms upward.

Brook, whose expression can be hard to read thanks to regular botulism injections, stares at me in disbelief. “But he’s a Christian.”

“Well, we all fall from grace sometimes. I’m going to give you a few minutes so you can properly take this in. I’ll be in the back when you’re ready to talk. Take your time.”

I back out of the room, leaving Brook standing stock still and stunned in the middle of the store, and make my way to our little bathroom in the back. I toss my hair back to assess the damage in the mirror. The hickey is smiling at me. I finger it gently, remembering Sam’s lips on my neck, on my shoulders, on my…other places. I apply concealer and foundation powder liberally, and the redness and bruising eventually disappear.

I strain my ears but the psychic alarm bells remain stubbornly silent. Either I’m losing my gift or I’ve finally found myself a winner. Sam, gorgeous Sam, could you be the one to give me my happily ever after? I hear the bell over the shop’s door chime and make my way back to the front. Amber is walking slow circles around the still incapacitated Brook, her lips pursed together in serious consideration.

“I knew this day would come,” she says.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The mixture of Botox, silicone, and hair spray has overloaded Brook’s brain and she’s gone into a coma.”

Amber, with the curiosity of a marine biologist studying a new species of plankton, moves her head side to side directly in front of Brook’s face, looking for obvious signs of brain damage. I walk over to them, gently take Brook by the hand, and lead her to sit on the stool behind the counter. I can hardly blame Amber for being fascinated by Brook’s state. I’m not sure Brook’s gone this long without gossiping in her entire life.

“Brook, Brook, it’s me, Ellie. Can you hear me?”

Brook’s eyes shift to mine as her mouth struggles to form words. There’s a flash of light from behind me and I turn to see Amber, phone in hand, snapping pictures of Brook in full break-down mode.

“Amber, shame on you,” I hiss.

“It’s important that we document this, Ellie. It’s for science.”

“Ellie?” Brook asks.

“Yes, Brook?”

“How did he, I mean, why did he…he’s a toe-sucker?”

“What’s she talking about?” Amber asks. “Whose toes got sucked?”

I shake my head at Amber and focus on Brook. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You go on back to your office and Amber and I will man the shop today, okay?”

Brook mirrors my head nod, rises from the stool and gingerly makes her way to the back of the shop where her small office is located.

“Whose toes got sucked? Wait, was it you? Are you a closet fetishist?” Amber follows me around the counter, eyes fixed on my face for signs of guilt.

“Fine, yes, my toes got sucked. Can we drop it now?”

Amber’s glee at this admission reminds me of the joy I felt when my mother brought home Spot, our Border Collie. My glee was born from the joy a puppy brings to the heart of a young girl. Amber’s glee is born out the possibility that I’m now a possible candidate for her social S&M group.

“Did he tie you up, too? Were there chains involved?”

“No.”

“Whips?”

“No.”

“Come on, Ellie, give me something to work with here. Did he smother your feet in chocolate or peanut butter first?”

“
Eww
, no, Amber, there was no smothering of any kind involved.”

“So you’re a purist. Okay, I can respect that.” Amber’s face is thoughtful and her words are sincere, which is a first for her. Hell, she’s acting downright interested which kind of makes me want to keep this lie going. Not for nothing, having someone on my side that can turn an ex-boyfriend into a voodoo doll may not be a bad thing.

“Sorry to disappoint you,
Morticia
, but I was the victim of a toe-assault, not a willing participant. Brook’s creepy cousin was going for the gold medal of bad blind dates and I sort of inadvertently kicked him in the nose.”

Amber claps her hands in excitement and gives a squeal of delight. “You’re
freakin
’ kidding me! Old ‘Celery Ellery’ has a foot-fetish? And you told Brook and that’s why she’s gone comatose?”

“Pretty much. Listen, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. Go get the new pumpkin-spice candles out of the back and let’s get to work on the new display window,” I say, putting distance between myself and the ecstatic Amber.

“Whatever you say, boss. And, Ellie, I want you to know this is pretty much the most I’ve ever liked you.”

“Gee, thanks, Amber. I’m just glad my awful date has brought you so much pleasure.”

“Me too,” she says, skipping into the stockroom, her black heart at peace with the world.

The store has been unusually busy today and Amber’s good mood quickly fades as she assists woman after woman in selecting foot scrubs and at-home chemical peels. Word about the flavored body powders has spread, and I find myself dusting wrist after wrist with the sweet-tasting powders. I finish ringing up the last customer of the afternoon rush and wander over to the tasty display. I select the honey powder and lightly dust my neck. I think Sam and I will have to set up an official taste test after work. After silencing Brook this morning I feel I owe it to the scientific community to do my bit.

I’m lost in thought when Amber sneaks up behind me and soundly licks the powder right off my neck. The shock of the sneak attack has me spinning around.

“What in the hell was that for?” I squeal, rubbing the wetness from my neck and shooting Amber a look of disgust. I know my mistake immediately.

Amber raises her arm and points her finger at my neck. “Hickey,” she says, glee oozing out of her every pore.

My hand shoots up to cover the bruised skin of my neck while my face and chest glow red with humiliation. “Amber,” I warn.

“First you get your toes sucked, now you have a hickey? Ellie, I think I love you.”

“It’s not what you think.”

The door chime rings and both Amber and I turn to see Sam James strolling into the shop. He looks relaxed and confident and is completely unaware that at this very moment I’m swirling around the third circle of Hell.

“Sam, what’re you doing here?” I ask, eyes working between him and Amber, trying to think up a plan to get him out of the store as fast as possible.

Sam shoots me a smile then eyes Amber questioningly. Her arm is still outstretched and her finger is still pointing directly at me. “Just thought I’d stop by, say hello. Hi, name’s Sam.”

Sam extends a hand to Amber but she ignores him. Her black eyes are traveling slowly between us…putting two and two together behind a shrewd expression. She begins to nod her head ever so slightly and I know it’s just a matter of time before she’s got the whole thing figured out, and my Sam James secret becomes public knowledge.

“That’s so, um, thoughtful of you!” I say, raising my eyebrows at Sam, trying to get him to commit to my attempt at improvisation in front of Amber.

“Well, I guess I’m a thoughtful guy,” he responds, brow furrowed in confusion as he takes back the hand Amber never accepted.

“Why’re you thoughtful? What are you thinking about?” demands Amber. She rounds on Sam, crossing her arms over her chest and putting her back to me. All of her dark and deductive powers are now focused directly on him. The poor man.

“Uh…”

“Sam,” I say, walking around Amber, “was just, uh, well he was just checking in with me about Luanne’s truck. Her truck was in the shop and he was just doing a courtesy check to make sure that everything’s working alright. Weren’t you?” I turn to face Sam, my eyes begging him to follow along with my story.

“That’s right,” he says, gradually nodding his head. “I was coming to make sure Ellie here was satisfied with my work. I take servicing my customers very seriously.”

I can actually feel new freckles popping into life across my chest at Sam’s innuendo. The memory of him ‘servicing’ me last night prompts a delightful shiver down my spine. I shoot Amber a quick glance over my shoulder to see if she’s buying our story. She’s locked Sam into a staring match. I’ve seen Amber stare people down before; it never ends well for her opponent.