Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Getting to Mark’s only took about ten minutes from where the rental was, and as I pulled in, I saw that there were a couple of cars in the driveway. One of them looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it, thinking maybe it was one of the ones Mark had bought to fix up.
I realized I was wrong when after I knocked, the door opened, and I saw Melanie Brewer sitting in the living room.
8
MELANIE
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
When Carmela asked it, it seemed so simple. Not really a dismissal of all potential bad results, but more like a recognition that any potential bad results would be better than the current state anyway. When she said it, it felt right. I believed it. I was even gung-ho about it.
Then I hung up the phone, stared at my wall for a moment, and wondered what the hell I was thinking.
Saying I was unsure about the plan was an understatement. Part of me wanted to call her back and call it all off. But I couldn’t. I needed her help on this. I needed someone’s help, at least. Carmela was a lawyer and a good person and a friend. My initial thought was I could give it a shot, and like she said, what was the worst that could happen? Would I have a contentious relationship with the new majority owner? I’d pretty much sealed that up on my own already when I stomped out of the store.
The worst that would happen was that nothing changed. Right?
I was going to hold on to that, praying that I was right as I got ready to head over.
With not much time to get ready, I hopped in the shower and got clean before standing in my bedroom, looking at three outfits on my bed while wrapped in a towel. The carpet below me started to get damp from where I stood, debating on the three options. By the time I picked one, I was going to be dry.
Finally settling on the one that ranged in the center from sexy to hiding myself in a sweatshirt and pajama pants, I blew out my hair and did my makeup. It felt silly in a way. I wasn’t going ‘out.’ I rarely did a full-face makeup anymore unless it was before work, which I washed off the second I got home. But here I was putting on eyeshadow and lipstick and mascara. Why?
Because he was stupid hot, that was why. And even if I kind of hated his guts, I wasn’t about to be intimidated by a guy who looked like that without at least a little bit of warpaint on. With that mindset, I also grabbed the good bra, the one that I never wore because I never wanted the attention, but I liked specifically because if I did want attention, I was most certainly going to get it. The girls pushed to my chin, I got dressed and headed for the door.
Carmela and Mark lived fairly close, just down the street from where Mark’s family practice was and where the office park where Carmela worked when she went in.
“Hey,” Carmela said as she answered the door, looking as fresh as a daisy.
I wondered how she did that. I knew for a fact that she worked full time and took care of Cassie, but she never seemed flustered. It was impressive.
“Hey,” I said. “Am I early?”
“Not at all,” she said. “I’ve got some food going, and Victor isn’t here yet, so you’re good. Want to come help me in the kitchen for a bit?”
“Sure,” I said.
I followed her inside and saw baby Cassie sitting in one of those bouncing swings. She seemed delighted by the weightlessness and extraordinarily curious about the toys sitting in front of her. Particularly in how they tasted.
“Say hi, Cassie,” Carmela said, dipping down to kiss her head before continuing on to the stove.
“Hi, baby,” I said in the overly high, exaggerated voice one uses with babies. “Do you like your toys? Do they taste good?”
“Oh, she’s at that age now,” Carmela said from where she was stirring a pot on the stove. “Everything goes in her mouth. I have to be careful what I leave anywhere near her.”
“I bet,” I said. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“Mark’s favorite,” she said. “A full pasta dish with sausage sauce. He says it’s the unhealthiest thing he could eat, but it always puts him in a good mood. He figured Victor might need some pushing to get in a good place for our plan to work.”
“About that,” I said. “What exactly is the plan?”
She turned and smiled. “Mel, you know you have the power in this situation, don’t you?”
“How?” I asked. “It seems like I have no power whatsoever.”
Carmela shook her head and went back to the pan on the stove where she was browning the meat.