Wild Man

Chapter Four Committed to His Job

“This cake is so beautiful, it’s a shame to cut it!” Ada cried right before she dug right into the huge cake I made for her shower.

I smiled a polite smile as the abundance of women tittered around me excitedly at the thought of getting their free slice of a Tessa O’Hara cake. Not to brag or anything but my cakes and cupcakes had been written up in the local papers because they looked as good as they tasted and my bakery was shoulder to shoulder from open to close, ten to seven, seven days a week. That cake was homemade yellow cake with vanilla buttercream frosting. Simple but a winner. Even I knew they were in for a treat.

Then that titter changed as they watched Ada cut miniscule slivers and put them on the paper plates with the big blue teddy bear on them.

There you go.

That was Ada.

She told me how many people were coming so I made a fourteen inch, four layer cake, plenty for everyone to have a nice, thick slice. But Ada was cutting slivers so she could have half a cake as leftovers for her and Vic.

I sighed, wondering what the heck I was doing there at all since three years ago when Ada met Vic and, because she was thirty-six and her biological clock was ticking so loud the personnel at NORAD were tracking it, she immediately dedicated herself to the sacred quest of making him her fiancé then her husband and now the man who was the father of her unborn child, Ada pretty much checked out of my life. She called me to make the cake for her engagement party then for her bridal shower, her wedding and now this. Only two of those cakes she paid me for and she asked for (and stupid me, I gave her) a discount on both. I’d only seen her on those occasions and all of them required me bringing a present. Other than that, Ada was all about sculpting (with chisel and hammer if she had to) Vic into the perfect suburban husband, wedding planning, house hunting, house decorating and baby making. She didn’t have time to be a friend unless it was to call on all of us to buy her presents and celebrate milestones of her life.

I didn’t even think she sent me a Christmas card last year.

And I had my own milestone to think about, I didn’t need to be here.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a milestone. But whatever it was it was a big, huge stinking deal because no way that scene with Brock “Slim” Lucas in my kitchen was not a big, huge stinking deal.

I knew it.

I started thinking about how and when I could get out of there while handing around plates with slivers of cake and baby blue plastic forks on them but when I gave one to the woman sitting beside me and she muttered an annoyed, “Muthafucka.”

As it would, this surprised me so I looked at her to see her staring down at her nearly transparent slice of cake and I was right, she appeared annoyed.

I didn’t know her but had met her that day. Her name was Elvira, mocha skin, hair in stylish crop with blonde highlights at the long bangs, fabulous tangerine top that showed even more fabulous cleavage, skintight skirt that showed this baby had back and she would have been shorter than me if she wasn’t wearing four inch, killer, stiletto-heeled sandals. She came to the party with a cadre of beauties, all of whom I’d met in passing before at Ada’s milestone “celebrate me” celebrations, a knockout blonde named Gwen, a tall, svelte, modelesque blonde named Tracy and another modelesque, tall, svelte African American named Camille.

But I’d never met Elvira.

“How do you know Ada?” I asked and her eyes came to me.

“Don’t know the bitch and don’t wanna know a bitch who puts out bowls of peanuts, no honey roast, no salt, just motherfuckin’ peanuts with the motherfuckin’ skins still on them and some corn chips for a party and then she gives me a sliver of cake. Shit. What? Crazy,”

she replied and I stared at her mainly because her answer was crazy. Honest, but crazy.

Then I asked, “You crashed a baby shower?”

“No. Got dragged here by Beanpole,” she jerked her head at the tall, svelte, modelesque Tracy. “She didn’t wanna come alone. Gwen and Cam didn’t wanna come at all. I’m seein’

now why. Trace has got a heart of gold but no capacity to get it when people walk all over her, even when they’re doin’ it in high heels. She talked us into it with promises of employee discounts at her store. She works at Neiman’s.”

“Mm hmm,” I mumbled, thinking that would do it. There was a time in my life when I’d go to a really bad baby shower with the promise of an employee discount at Neiman’s. That time was over, though. As I had done frequently through the years, starting at around age six, I’d entered a new phase in my life. This one was one where Christian Louboutin didn’t factor but Harley Davidson did.

As I was thinking this, she suddenly and bizarrely announced, “Done with this shit. Let’s have cocktails.”

Then before I could open my mouth, she shot up to standing, grabbed her enormous purse that clunked and clinked when she did, hefted it up on her shoulder, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the couch.

Then she declared loudly, “Smoke break!” and everyone’s eyes came to us, some of them shocked seeing as these days you could light up a doobie and no one would blink but if you lit up a smoke, you courted being publicly stoned to death. But most of the eyes were envious and probably not because they smoked, probably because they, like me and obviously Elvira, wanted to escape.

“Smoke break?” Ada asked, her face twisted in revulsion.

“Yeah, back deck okay?” Elvira asked but didn’t wait for an answer. She started tugging me to the sliding glass doors at the back of Ada’s picture perfect suburban home while jerking her chin at her posse.

I had no choice but to go but I did manage to bug my eyes out at Martha as I went; my nonverbal invitation for her to get her ass up and follow. I’d known Martha since we were in fifth grade. I moved out to Denver to be with Martha. Before marrying Damian, I lived with Martha. After leaving Damian I again lived with Martha. Therefore Martha read my nonverbal invitation and got her ass up.

“Ice,” I heard Elvira order, Tracy nodded and peeled off as Elvira tugged me out the door.

Then she let my hand go and sashayed to the picture perfect lawn furniture on the deck, folded then shoved my slice of cake in her mouth all in one go (though, it was so small, this wasn’t hard). Then she dropped the plate to the table, plonked down her massive purse which again clinked and clunked and, as I watched in unconcealed astonishment, she started unearthing the ingredients for cosmopolitans (including stainless steel cocktail shaker) from her purse as Martha, Gwen, Camille and I rounded the table.

“Ohmigod, I’m so gonna kill Tracy for this. I didn’t like Ada even before that bitch hooked up with Vic. But this party is so bad, if ex-prisoners of war attended it, they’d reminisce nostalgically about the days shit was shoved up their fingernails,” Camille muttered.

“Have you seen Vic?” Gwen asked Camille and got a head shake to her question so she continued, “Shadow of his former self. He used to live and breathe Broncos, Nuggets, Rockies and his vintage Chevy Chevelle. Now he’s wearing button-downs instead of Elway jerseys and driving a minivan and Ada hasn’t even popped that kid out yet.”

“Poor Vic,” Martha muttered.

“Poor Vic, my ass,” Elvira stated while pouring vodka in her shaker. “Needs to man up, take charge of his woman.” Her eyes sliced through Camille and Gwen and she proclaimed,

“You bitches know what I’m sayin’.”

Both “bitches” nodded in a way I found interesting since they clearly did know what she was saying and I did not and wanted to know more but before I could ask I heard the sliding glass door open. I twisted to look as it closed and saw the gorgeous, glamorous Tracy carrying two big glasses filled with ice strutting out like she was on a catwalk and not on a picture perfect back deck.

“Okay, just gotta say, I’m glad we’re out here because I wanna know what the frig is up with you.” I heard Martha say and I looked to her to see she was looking at me and therefore talking to me.

This was probably not good.

Martha was Elvira’s height which was to say five foot four. She was also now taller than me for I was wearing a pair of flip-flops with a black base and glittery silver on the straps and she was wearing a pair of platform pumps with a six inch heel and two inch platform. She was rounded just right, had curly dark brown hair that looked fabulous against her pale skin and bright blue eyes. She also knew me better than anyone in this world (or, at least, the parts I let her know). She was always late, she was always in a tizzy, her life was always filled with drama but I loved her and she loved me, always and forever, no matter what. I’d been through the thick and the thin with her, all of it, and there was a lot of it, riding her killer waves, holding her hand the whole time and she was grateful for it and didn’t have a problem with letting that show.

That said, although she could be immensely gentle, insightful and thoughtful, that didn’t mean when she had something to say, even if that something might be uncomfortable, she didn’t say it.

Which I was getting the sense she was gearing up to do now.

So I asked a fake innocent, “What?”

“What?” she asked back, not buying my fake innocent for a second and I knew this when her eyebrows shot up and she kept speaking. “Girl, I walked into your house and you had a face… a face…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what was up with your face and you still got that face.” Then, as if I didn’t know what a face was, she lifted a finger and jabbed it toward mine going on as she dropped it. “All I know is, three months you’ve been hell on wheels, no one could keep up with you and now you look all foggy like you’re living in a dreamworld.”

Damn.

I really needed to remember that even as Martha lived out her ever-present drama, that didn’t mean she didn’t pay attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

“Sure you do,” Elvira stated, dumping ice into her cocktail shaker.

“Uh…” I mumbled to Elvira, a little surprised since I’d met her an hour before and she couldn’t know anything about me especially not about this.

“I got the gift,” Elvira informed me, answering my unasked question. “Can read people’s faces.” She topped the cocktail shaker and started shaking. “And yours is sayin’ you know exactly what your homegirl is talkin’ about.”

Oh crap.

I felt all eyes on me but it was Martha who spoke next.

“All right, Tess, I backed off because you know I did not like that Jake but that look on your face, I’m done backing off.”

Oh crap.

At this point Martha looked to the beauty parade of women around the table and shared,

“She got hooked up with this guy… hot and when I say hot I mean,” she licked her finger then sliced it through the air making a sizzle noise and went on, “smokin’ hot. But bad news.”

It was safe to say I didn’t want to talk about this at all but it was safer to say that I didn’t want to talk about this drinking clandestine cosmos on Ada’s picture perfect back deck with a bunch of women I didn’t know during a very badly hosted baby shower I didn’t want to be at but instead I wanted to be home preparing for nine o’clock when Brock would be back and we would be talking.

Therefore, I started, “Martha –”

“No, girl,” Martha cut me off, lifting a hand in my face to which Elvira muttered, “Oh shit, this is serious. She’s givin’ the hand.”

Martha continued, dropping her hand and looking back at the bevy of beauties. “This guy had it all, the walk, the voice, the hair, the ass, kid you not, I’d sell my soul just to run my fingers along his forearms,” she leaned in and semi-whispered, “he’s got these veins that pop out on his hands and forearms, freaking delicious. ”

Oh jeez.

Totally paid attention.

“Mm hmm, I hear you,” Elvira and Tracy muttered in unison, their eyes rapt on Martha’s face as were Gwen’s but Camille was looking at me.

Martha went on. “But did he take her to his pad? No. Did she know where he worked? No.

Did she meet any of his friends? No. Family? Unh-unh. Always her place or some dive.

Never a nice meal. Never got dressed up and took my girl on the town. He met her friends.

He showed up at her bakery. But for all she knows, he’s a lone wolf livin’ off his family’s inheritance and, from what I could tell, it wasn’t a generous one. If he called, she answered.

She couldn’t and he left a message, she called straight back. He wanted to meet, she asked where and what time and then she was there.”

“Oh boy,” Gwen muttered, clearly disappointed I’d let down our side.

“You got that right. Oh boy, ” Martha agreed . “Did she listen to me when I told her to play it cool? No. Did she listen to me when I said in four months you should see your man’s pad, at the very least meet a friend, just one? No. I get it. She was into this dude. Hell, Melissa Etheridge would be into this dude. He’s the walking, talking, breathing definition of a dude you… would… be… into. But a girl’s gotta play it cool and not put herself out there.”

I tried again. “Martha –”

She turned her bright blue eyes to me. “Unh-unh, Tess. You put yourself out there and I know, seein’ as for the last three months there’s been no talk, no sightings, Jake Knox all of a sudden fell off the face of the earth.” She leaned into me. “I know.” Then she leaned back.

“It’s ended. Because off you go, hell bent on whatever you’re hell bent on.” She turned back to the girls. “Suddenly, after twenty-five years of me talking to her about it, she gets contacts.

Suddenly, she’s at kick-boxing classes three days a week. Suddenly, she’s looking at places to open a new bakery and expand her business at the same time she’s put the house she loves on the market and is waxin’ on about movin’ to Kentucky. Suddenly, she’s off to a new hairdresser, spends three hundred friggin’ dollars for a new friggin’ look. Suddenly, she’s not shopping at Nordstrom’s but scrounging through the racks of Biker Babes ‘R’ Us. Now, we all know, a girl gets dumped by a serious hot guy she’s got two options. She deposits her ass at the nearest LaMar’s and steadily eats her way through the inventory until she’s gained fifty pounds and gives up on men until she finds herself a beer bellied loser who worships the ground she walks on. Or she gets herself a new look, kick-boxes her way to a new ass and throws herself into her job, that means she’s living and breathing for that moment when she sees him again and she can say, ‘Look what you gave up, asshole.’” Martha’s eyes came back to me. “And that’s what you’ve been doin’.”

That wasn’t what I was doing.

Or, not exactly.

“Honey –” I began again only to get cut off again.

“But today, I see it in your eyes. Something is up and my guess is that something is that guy’s back. You’re in your head again, livin’ the dream that he’s going to be all you want him to be when everything about him screams he… is… not. ”

“Tell it like it is, sister,” Elvira encouraged.

“Um… not to be rude or anything, but…” I looked at the girl gang. “I don’t really know you all and maybe –”

Elvira cut me off. “Nope, you don’t know us, that’s the damned truth but I’ll tell you, from what I hear your girl sayin’, it’s intervention time and we all got tits and ass, except Camille, she’s just got ass but lucky for her, God gave her plenty ‘a that, so we’re in the club and anytime a member gets herself in a situation where she needs an intervention, it’s our duty to kick in even if we don’t know the sister,” Elvira stated then her eyes scanned the table and she asked, “Am I right?”

I stared at Elvira not happy to admit that what she was saying was sheer lunacy but it was also right as most anything that had to do with women was. And this included her observation that Camille was light up top but she made up for it by being generous on the bottom.

“You’re right, Elvira,” Tracy chimed in.

“I think –” Camille started but Elvira talked over her.

“Spill,” she ordered me. “This Jake back?”

“Kind of,” I found my mouth saying and Elvira’s eyebrows shot together in a scary way.

“Kind of? How can a boy kind of be back?”

“Um…” I muttered, avoiding Martha’s eyes since she was right, I didn’t share anything about what happened with Brock, Damian and being investigated by a multi-agency task force that came together to dismantle my ex-husband’s drug operation and I was seeing, just then, this was probably something girlfriends shared.

Elvira yanked off the top of the cocktail shaker then extended her arm across the table, offering it to me. “Suck some of that back, girlfriend, and let ‘er rip.”

That was when I found my hand reaching for the cocktail shaker. Then, as told by a somewhat scary Elvira, I took it and sucked some back.

She made good cosmos.

I handed it off to Tracy who was standing beside me so she could partake and then I pulled in breath and started.

“Okay, well, see, I didn’t tell you…” I turned to Martha, “because I… well… it was messed up.”

“Oh boy,” Gwen muttered again.

“Keep talking,” Martha said quietly, her eyes on my face, her body braced and I knew she was worried.

Damn.

“His name isn’t Jake Knox. It’s Brock Lucas,” I whispered and felt something weird and tense coming from the table but since Martha was blinking at me and looking more worried, I hurried on. “He was… okay, here it is. Damian is a drug kingpin and he called me nine months ago lying to me that his dad was sick. I met him for lunch and he told me he wanted to reconcile.”

I stopped talking mainly because Martha shrieked a very loud, “What? ”

I put my hand on her arm and talked quickly, “Honey, it was… it was nothing.”

“That jackass calls you, Tess, it’s not nothing,” she snapped, her bright blue eyes flashing.

She was right. She didn’t know the worst of it with him but she never liked him either.

Said from the beginning he was a bad seed. Told me while she was trying on maid of honor dresses that she was performing her duties under protest. She always hated Damian.

Which was why I never told her he hit me and raped me. She’d lose it and I needed her breathing free air, not serving time for manslaughter.

“You’re right,” I agreed.

“Damn straight I am,” she shot back.

I pulled in more breath. “Anyway, I told him, obviously, I wasn’t interested. But you know Damian.”

She shook her head then told the girl posse around the table. “Dick never gives up. Sinks his poisonous fangs in you and doesn’t let go until he injects all the venom.”

“Oo, lawdy, seems you don’t got good radar when it comes to pickin’ ‘em,” Elvira muttered.

“No, her radar is beyond not good. Her radar is also not malfunctioning. It’s straight out broke,” Martha agreed and I was wondering if perhaps Elvira and Martha were not such a good match. Denver was relatively peaceful. I’d never heard of riots or sieges or militant hostile takeovers of land and I was foreseeing this if these two got together and rallied the female population of the Denver Metropolitan Area as a protest to shelter all women against dickhead assholes.

“Go on, girl,” Camille prompted quietly and I looked around to see her, Gwen and Tracy’s eyes gentle on me.

I nodded and went on. “It gets worse.”

“Oh boy,” Gwen whispered.

“Shit,” Martha muttered.

“You don’t say,” Elvira mumbled.

I kept talking. “Like I said, Damian is a drug kingpin who’s in jail, or was. Now he’s out on bail awaiting trial.”

Martha glared at me. She knew this. Everyone did. It had been in the papers. She’d only broached it with me once, I told her he wasn’t in my life so I didn’t care and she’d backed off about that too.

I kept going. “But since he contacted me and kept contacting me, the task force investigating him thought maybe I was involved in his operation.”

“Oh boy,” Gwen whispered.

“Shit,” Martha muttered.

“You don’t say,” Elvira mumbled.

I continued. “So, they um… well, they sent someone in undercover to get close to me and that someone they sent was Jake slash Brock.”

“Holy fuck! ” Martha shouted.

“Honey, keep it down,” I whispered, my body getting tight and she leaned across the table, snatched the cocktail shaker out of Camille’s hand and then downed a huge gulp like it was Kool-Aid before she dropped her hand and her eyes cut to me.

I took that as my cue to keep going.

“Well, um… that was it, really. They did their sweep; I was caught up in it. They searched my house, car, the bakery, did a forensic search of my computers and another of my finances, brought me into the Station to talk to me and then I found out who he was, we had a few words and I walked away.”

Then I stopped talking which meant Martha started.

“I gotta tell you, Tess, I knew Damian was a bad seed. When I read that shit about him in the paper, it did not surprise me.”

I held her eyes and settled in for the “I told you so’s”.

I was not disappointed.

“And I gotta tell you, I knew somethin’ was not right with that Jake slash Brock slash whoever-the-fuck.”

I pressed my lips together.

“And I gotta tell you, I cannot believe you did not share any of this shit with me.”

I bit my lip.

“Now, what I wanna know is, how is he back?”

I released my lip only for both to slide to the side. Martha’s eyes narrowed.

I decided, since I’d kept so much for her, and I really shouldn’t have, that it was the right thing to do to answer.

“He stopped by today to explain,” I said quietly.

“Yeah? And what’d he say?”

“Um… well, he was, uh… well…”

I petered out.

“Oh boy,” Gwen whispered.

I started talking again when Martha got a look like her head was about to explode.

“He wants us to talk stuff out and see where we are.”

“Where you are?” Martha whispered and I shrugged even though I knew that was not my best play. “Okay, where are you?” she asked.

“He’s coming over tonight at nine,” I informed her and she rolled her eyes to the heavens.

“Oh boy,” Gwen and Camille said in unison.

I took in another breath.

Martha rolled her eyes back to me. “Don’t do this,” she said softly.

“Martha –”

She shook her head. “I’m tellin’ you, Tess. Do not do this.”

“I –”

She grabbed my arm. “Listen to me, okay, seriously, open your ears for once and listen to me. This guy is bad news. Bad news. Okay, so he’s not up his own ass dickhead bad news like I thought. Instead he’s a cop-like, up his own ass dickhead who played you. Just because he’s on the right side of the law even though I thought he was on the wrong side doesn’t mean he’s right for you.”

“Honey –”

She shook my arm and shook her head.

“Listen to me, Tess, ” she hissed. “I do not get why you live your life with your head buried in the sand but I love you and that’s you so okay, you do. But because you do it’s my job to look out for you when you’re buried and right now, I’m looking out for you. You are beautiful. You are so sweet, damn, honey, too sweet. I love that about you. Everyone loves that about you. You’re forty-three years old, you had a rotten marriage to the king of all assholes who’s finally proven he’s truly the king of all assholes and you’re still naïve and innocent and that’s cute. It is. Trust me. Guys think so too. But that makes you a mark for players out there and you’ve managed to steer clear because life scares the fuckin’ beejeezus out of you and now when you take the leap it’s with someone who is not good for you.

Someone who is not good for any woman. Someone that any woman who’s not got her head in the sand would take one look at, know was fun to play with and then move the fuck on.

Not you. You have visions of white picket fences and making him extravagant birthday cakes until he dies. He started this shit with you as his mark and I know why he’s back, because you’re naïve and innocent and he thinks it’s cute. But he’s going to chew you up, Tess, chew you up and spit you out. He already has and girl, my sweet girl, you gotta pull your head outta the sand and see him for what he is and that he’s gonna do it again.”

“Mm hmm,” Elvira muttered and I turned my eyes to her.

Then I said what I knew to this group would sound stupid, “You all don’t know him.”

“Uh… sorry to say, but we do,” Gwen said quietly and I turned surprised eyes to her.

“You do?” I asked.

“Well I do. It was awhile ago but… uh…” She looked at Elvira then back at me. “He was… my man is in the business and there was a situation where I got involved and Lucas was also involved. He was undercover then too and…” She paused, pulled in a soft breath and finished softly, “Sorry, Tess, he was also with a girl during that operation. Her name was Darla and she was a skank, total skank, total bad news skank but he was pretending to be with her while actually being with her in order to take down the bad guy. It’s cool he’s committed to his job but Brock Lucas is known by all to be seriously committed to his job. ”

I stared at her and I knew what she was saying.

I knew exactly what she was saying.

That thing tight in my belly started unfurling again, hissing, bearing its fangs, preparing to strike.

Damn.

I had to get out of there and get it under control before it choked me or worse, poisoned me.

“I’ve gotta go,” I whispered, stepping away from the table.

Martha’s hand still on me tightened. “No, honey.”

I pulled carefully free and took another step back as I felt all their eyes soft on me. “I’ve gotta go,” I repeated.

“Not thinkin’ that’s a good idea, hon,” Elvira said gently.

I looked to Martha and whispered, “I’ll call you later.”

“Tess, honey –” she started to whisper back but I turned and hightailed it through the door.

Then I caught Ada and told her I had a headache.

Then I grabbed my purse and went out to my car.

Then I hoped Elvira, Gwen, Camille or Tracy would drop Martha at my place to pick up her car.

Then I stupid, stupid, stupidly stopped by the store and bought a six-pack of Bud in bottles, Brock’s preference, on the way home.