Underground Secrets (The Underground #1) (4 page)

We actually have been asked by several big-name jewelers, and designers to partner up with them, but we like how we are right now, and how well we all as a team work together. Not to mention, we don’t need Big Name sellers to help us. Thanks to Gemma’s family connections, word got out about my jewelry, and now we have plenty of celebrities, millionaires, or their stylists buying our items and wearing them, giving our GemMar Jewelry a great review when they have been asked who they are wearing at a social or red-carpet event.

I find myself lost in thought and snap out of it. It seems to be something I do often. Luckily, Gem is too busy chatting with Eddie to notice me zoning out. I take another drink and scan the club looking at all the people drinking and dancing and probably enjoying their mostly worry free lives.

I wish I could be like them. Normal.

Finishing my drink, I grab my purse to go out and have a smoke. I need to change my train of thought, so going outside might help. I try to announce to Gemma that I am going to go outside, but she clearly isn’t going to acknowledge me, since she and Eddie have been chatting it up for the last few minutes while I’ve been day dreaming.

I grab my purse and turn around on the stool. Before I step off, my eyes briefly catch a glimpse of something or someone I’d like to know as a ghost. My heart constricts for a moment as I look again for what I thought I saw. I see nothing, though. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it isn’t. One thing I do know, it isn’t possible for the person I thought I saw to be seen right now. So I brush away the heaviness that seems to have seeped into my chest and forget about it. For now anyway.

Stepping down from the bar stool, I head towards the front entrance.
Whoa.
I’m definitely struggling to not roll my ankle, because I am no doubt, extremely drunk. Making it outside without falling is undoubtedly an achievement, and I’m proud to say I did it successfully.

The brush of cool air hits me instantly and makes me involuntarily shiver. I walk to the left side of club’s door and lean against the brick wall. I wouldn’t even consider myself a smoker. I only smoke when I drink, and even then it’s only one or two. It’s funny really, I have had this same pack for about six months, and they are probably stale as shit, but at this point in the night, I don’t care. I should just quit, but there is just something about having a quick cig when drinking that makes me go, “Ah, much better.”

Grabbing my pack out of my purse, I get one, place the pack back into my purse and start fishing for my lighter so I can indulge in one of my many guilty pleasures. My drunken little fingers have a weak grip, and I drop my purse, spilling its entire contents on the sidewalk.

“Shit, now you’ve done it,” I mumble out loud to myself like a crazy person. I’m not sure I will make it back up if I attempt to bend down and pick up the contents. So I just stand here. looking at all of my things, secretly willing for my crap to pick itself up and land back in my hand. But it’s no use; I don’t possess the magical powers I so desperately wish I had right about now.

Just try. You can do it
. Giving myself a quick pep talk, I bend down and I start to collect my items scattered everywhere when Gemma comes into view and starts to help.

“Jesus, Marlie, you okay? Or did you purposely want everyone to see your tampons and dental floss?” she asks, giggling to herself.

Oh, she thinks she’s being funny? How would she like it?

Yes, how. Would. She. Like. It?

I reach over and slap her handbag right out of her hand, and watch a repeat performance of what had just happened to my purse. Now laughing to myself, I look up to see her glaring at me, but that glare quickly turns into a full, gut-wrenching, snorting, eyes-watering laugh on both our parts. We just sit on our asses and laugh in the most unladylike of ways. It doesn’t last long though, because the bouncer comes up and gives us both a once over, sighs, and mumbles something about causing a scene and wanting us to leave.

“Alright big guy. Settle yourself, we’ll leave,” I tell him, trying to calm down a bit as we pick up our stuff. After everything is gathered and put back in our purses, we lean in on each other to help ourselves up. This is ridiculous. Two grown-ass women using each other as walls to get ourselves up. And I know we are both pretty toasted. How do I know? I know this because the whole time we are using each other to get up, there is a perfectly good, sturdy, wall of the building we are currently being asked to leave within our reach. That’s how I know. At least I found my lighter and I’m now able to smoke while we walk towards our apartment. It’s about a fifteen block walk but I don’t mind, and it’ll give me a little time to sober up. Not that it matters. We’ll most likely dive into a twelve pack of beer when we get home to finish our night off, beings it’s only one o’clock, and when we go out, we’re usually up until five anyway.

“So…” I say trying to not sound as belligerent as I feel.
Don’t fall Marlie. Make this walk home your bitch. Own this damn sidewalk. You’ve made this walk home plenty of times way more toasted than you are now. It has just been a while
. I’m thinking this on the walk home and believe it or not, my inner pep talk actually helps.

“So…” she says playing coy.

“Come on, Gemma. Tell me, are you planning a spring or fall wedding? City or mountains?”

She’s quiet but the red growing on her face isn’t because she’s hot.

“Come on tell me! I’m dying to-”

“He’s gay!” she blurts out.

What? I cover my mouth with my fingers in shock, “No way. That can’t be true. You’re messing with me.” Sure enough, one look at her face says it all. She’s not.

Damn.

“Well, what happened then?” I drape my arm over her shoulder. Partly to comfort her and partly to hold myself more steady.

“I was talking to him and laying it on thick, you saw it.” I nod, because I sure did see it. “Anyway, I asked what he was doing after he got off and that maybe we could go bowling or something.”

“Bowling? Really, Gem?” I ask in complete disbelief. First she’s dancing with gold chains, and now she’s talking about bowling. Not like her at all.

I take my other hand and press it against her forehead. She smacks it away.

“Shut up.” Oh she’s being feisty. “Yes, bowling. It was the first thing I thought of okay? Well he said he had to go home and let his boyfriend’s dog out because his boyfriend was out of town.”

I’m trying soooo damn hard to hold my laughter in. Don’t get me wrong, I feel bad, but this is some seriously funny shit. Plus, I’m drunk. Sometimes she has the worst of luck when it comes to guys. She actually thinks she’s been cursed by Lani Anderson since the eighth grade, ever since she stole her “pretend” husband, Steven Callroy. She passed him that cliché note in class with the whole
, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”
He did like her, but Gemma gets bored easily with guys, and Steven only lasted a week before she was like, “Nah, I’m over ya.”

Telling my inner self to settle the fuck down and be the good best friend that I know I am, I tell her, “Sorry, Gem. That’s really shitty. It seemed so obvious he was into you. What was he trying to play at anyway?”

“Tips. That’s what he was trying to play at. He knows he’s good looking and knows that he’d get better tips if he flirted back.”

That makes sense. “But what about the free drinks?”

“Fucking birthday drink and I guess a guy sitting at the end of the bar bought
you
a drink.”

Ugh, great. I wouldn’t have taken that drink if I knew someone else had bought it.

“Well shit. At least he didn’t have nine cats. Just… gay,” I tell her, trying to get her in a better drunken mood and it works. She slowly starts to form a smile on her lips and then bursts out in laughter.

So here we are, drunk, walking home, arm in arm, back to better topics and enjoying the cold spring night. Life is good at this moment, right here, right now.

When we do finally make it home after what feels like a lifetime, Gemma heads straight for the fridge for a beer. “You want one?”

“Yes!” I holler back as I walk towards my room to put on some comfy clothes.

In my room, I quickly remove my shoes and clothes, grab some sweats, a baggy t-shirt from my dresser, and plug my phone into the wall charger. As I am walking out, I glance over and roll my eyes at my enormous mountain that is my dirty laundry. I’m going to have to do that tomorrow. Thank goodness we bought a washer and dryer a few months back, because judging by the looks of my pile, I’d be at the laundromat all day while most likely nursing a hangover.

I pad down the plush grey carpeted hallway towards the living room to set up camp on our massive black leather sectional couch for the next few hours, splitting a twelve pack with Gem.

“Whatcha wanna do ho?” I ask, before taking a gulp from my beer.

“Um…let me think. Oh! We could plan a murder, watch kinky internet porn, turn up the music and have our own dance party, or,
or
, we could buy random shit off the internet,” she smiles while ticking off the list with her fingers.

“How about all of them?”

“Deal, Homie.”

So we did just that for the next three hours, and let me tell you, our murder plan is pretty solid.

TWO

O
H.
M
Y.
G
OD!
P
LEASE TELL ME
this is a nightmare? I feel like a big pile of garbage. I can’t even remember the last time I was this hung-over, and I usually don’t get hangovers either. I feel like I normally hang with the best of them, even better actually. This is definitely a sign that I should drink more and work a little less. Most people would say that they should drink less, or at least not as fast and as much as I did last night. I’m not most people though.

I roll over to my side and see the time on my clock.
Shit
. Why, oh why, am I not still asleep? No wonder I feel like crap, it’s only seven freaking thirty! My fluffy bottom is rolling back over and going back to sleep. It’s Sunday for crying out load. I love my sleep. My sleep and I are, or we were, on good terms
.

Screw you sleep, I’ve always been good to you haven’t I?

After trying to make friends with sleep for the next thirty minutes, I give up. “Great,” I huff. Might as well get up, start laundry, and do my usual Sunday stuff; Laundry, clean, eat, nap, call my dad, and shower. Or not. I throw my comforter off and stand up.
Whoa
. I get light headed instantly and I sit back down and wait for it to pass. After a moment, I slowly stand back up and stomp to my bedroom bathroom. Looking around my bathroom in my fuzzy state, I notice what looks a like a bomb went off. My stuff is
everywhere
.

“Wonderful,” I say with a sigh as I strip off my clothes and step into the shower. The heat from my powerful shower head feels absolutely amazing. It’s just what I need after not getting enough sleep. Nothing like waking up still feeling a bit drunk to start off your morning. But this, this feels nice. I just stand under the hot water starring at the tiled floor in a complete daze for who knows how long, when I feel the water temperature slightly changing. I quickly wash my hair and body before the water turns cold. I step out of the shower and dry off. Then I throw on a navy blue tank and maroon colored sweat shorts. Ah, comfort clothes to start off a lazy Sunday.

After getting my hair into a state that doesn’t look like it’s angry with me, I head out of my room towards the kitchen to start making breakfast and to see if Gemma is awake. I walk into what I feel is my perfect idea of a kitchen that Gemma and I designed together. We had hired people to do the actual labor. Our kitchen counter tops are made up of marble with beautiful swirls of black and gold. The wall and base cabinets are a vanilla color with a dark glaze, catalyzed matte finish, made out of birch wood. We left the nearly perfect brick walls and tiled our floors. We went with a stainless steel theme for our appliances. We have made it just the way we like it, with our final touches here and there, and adding a small high-top table off to the side.

Our living room was a lot of work also. We took out the old shaggy orange carpet that was there and replaced it with light oak wood floors and painted our walls a beautiful sea blue color. We knocked out our small window that over-looked downtown Denver and added a big bay window. We bought all new furniture for every room of our new place. Our bedrooms were decent already, just needed new carpet and fresh paint. The bathroom was fine as well. Just needed new paint, sink, and toilet. The shower just got a very thorough scrub.

Gem and I were extremely lucky to score such a large space that begged for a lot of TLC. We like making things our own. We don’t plan on living here forever, but for now, we’re not going anywhere. I enjoy the convenience of simply walking down a flight of stairs and our stores door being on the right way too much.

Looking into my fridge, I grab a carton of eggs, a block Velveeta for cheesy scrambled eggs and a package of turkey bacon. Coffee for Gem and hot tea for me to make us for breakfast. As I get started with the bacon and eggs I hear a sniff and an appreciative sigh come from behind me.

“Mmm… that smells heavenly and I’m starving.”

“Good and it’ll be ready shortly. You have time to shower if ya want.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

Fifteen minutes later, Gem and I are sitting at our table and scarfing down breakfast. “So how are you feeling this morning, Mar?”

“Umm, I think I woke up still drunk, but the shower helped and this breakfast has cured it,” I admit, while spreading some jam onto my toast.

“Yeah, same here. I have no idea why we are even up this early.”

“Simple, we are used to it now.”

I nod in agreement. I seriously need to make more time to go out and enjoy myself.

After eating and cleaning up my mess from cooking, I head into my room to make a quick call to my dad, Ed.

“Hey dad, how are things?” I ask, thankful I’m more chipper now then I was when I woke up. I don’t know what it is about your parents, but no matter what age you are, at least for me, you don’t want them knowing you’ve been drinking, or smoking, or anything that will possibly disappoint them. I’ve had beers with my dad, sure, but we don’t get shit-faced at bars together. To this very day he still thinks I just went out and bought a six pack of Mikes Hard Lemonade and had a little slumber party at my place with some friends for my twenty-first birthday. Hell if that wasn’t a lie, I don’t know what would be. In fact, I got so drunk on my twenty-first birthday I didn’t even remember the start of that day. Now that’s a drunk I don’t ever want to happen again. Unfortunately for me, my friends got all the crazy shit I did and said on video. I may or may not have been arrested for indecent exposure.