Full Share (Shore House Book 1) (9 page)

YOU CAN’T FLY UNLESS YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN

“S
ir, I understand your frustration.”

“Bullshit. You don’t understand anything.”

Hang up
, Ricky mouthed from over my cubicle wall.
Just hang up
.

I can’t hang up
, I mouthed back and rolled my eyes.

“For the tenth time. And I mean tenth, maybe even the eleventh time, I’m going to tell you how stupid you guys are,” Mr. Watkins said.

I paused for a second. “Thank you.”

“My agent just informed me that you’re going to pay the claim of the imbecile who hit me, and now my rates are going to go up.”

I maneuvered through the computer screens, trying to catch up on the investigation. The claim had been paid and closed. “Mr. Watkins, it appears from the notes in your file that the decision was made to pay the claim based on the police report and witness statements.”

“What police report?” he screamed into the phone. “That fucking car hit me in my driver’s side door. He nearly killed me.”

“According to this police report, he had the right of way.”

“That’s bullshit! I could have been killed.” I kept reading. “That accident was not my fault, and that damn cop wouldn’t believe me.”

“Sir, it says here that you were ticketed for driving under the influence at the accident scene.” For the first time in our conversation, Mr. Watkins was silent. “Sir?” I could hear him breathing. “Sir, are you still there?”

“No,” he said, and when the following silence became too awkward, I hung up.

“You okay?” Ricky asked.

“Why do I get these people?” I kept typing. “And how does someone not
know
they’ve gotten a DUI? Like, is he drunk now?”

“You get them because you’re the best at handling them. He’s having a bad day. I would have hung up on him, but you . . . you were nice to him. That’s why the universe sent him to you.” Ricky was unusually enlightened today.

“Did you smoke at lunch?”

“No.” He stood up straight. “I fucked a yoga instructor last night, and she made me meditate with her before work this morning.”

“Oh, how nice.”

He nodded. “She’s very flexible.” He stared at the ceiling with satisfaction covering his face.

“Ricky, have you ever just slept with a close friend?”

Ricky perked up. “You want to sleep with me?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“This is how it starts. First we sleep together and then we”—he bounced his eyebrows—“Sleep together.”

“You’re not understanding me. Like, if we were friends for, say . . .” I calculated Mila and Jack’s acquaintance in my head, “nine years. Do you think we’d ever sleep in the same bed together but not have sex?”

I could tell by the look on his face I was confusing him.

Sharon cleared her throat and glared at us.

Ricky smiled at her and said, “We should discuss this in bed.”

Ricky was my sanity. He kept the job from becoming real. “Do you ever think about the fact that in all the offices of all the world, you and I sit next to each other in this one?”

He lowered his brow and let his mouth hang open. His head tilted as if he needed to hear me better. “Are you guys eating shrooms at that beach house? What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Like, it’s all a huge master plan that we were meant to be together here, in this specific situation.”

He nodded his head as if he were catching on. “Okay. If I actually let myself think this horrible job was part of a master plan for Ricky, I’d drown myself in liquor until this life ended.”

“So, no?” I shook my head.

“No.” Ricky turned and sat down at his desk.

I still believed in Tank’s theory. Ricky was ridiculous, but he wasn’t random.

Rufus wouldn’t come to the edge of the cage. Not even after I read Scooby Doo to him twice. His big, sad eyes just stared at me from the back wall.

“I know what you’re thinking. That you’re better off alone. But you’ve got to trust me on this.”

His head tilted to the side, and then he rolled over until I couldn’t see his face anymore.

We were moving in the wrong direction.

On my way out, I stopped to talk to Janine. “I’m worried about Rufus. He’s worse than ever.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t eat this morning. I’ll have the vet check him out when he’s in this afternoon.”

I glanced back toward the dog room. “Okay. I’ll see you Monday.” I wasn’t sure I should leave.

“See you.” Janine patted my shoulder as if she’d read my mind.

“Call me if he gets worse?”

“You got it.” She smiled at me. She knew how much I loved him. Now, if I could just get him to believe it.

Rufus stayed on my mind the entire drive to Dewey. When I stopped at the last traffic light before our street, I thought of my housemates. They were either at the beach or in bed. Some of them would be in bed together. Last night was the second Friday night I’d missed since the summer began. My seven to three fifteen shift on the phone today had kept me home. Making this also the second Saturday I hadn’t woken up with cotton mouth and dry eyes.

My car just fit into the last parking spot on our lawn. Technically, it was on our neighbor’s lawn, too, but I hoped they’d let me slide since I was just arriving, and they’d already had an entire day of fun.

“Why did you invite her?” Blaire’s shrill voice carried onto the front lawn from inside the house. It sounded like she might cry. It sounded familiar.

“What’s the big deal? She’s meeting us at a bar. It’s not like I invited her to a wedding. She’s my sister’s best friend.”

“That you fucked!” A door slammed inside the house and followed the noise of their latest fight into the driveway. “You left that part out. ‘She’s my sister’s best friend
that I fucked’
. That’s the big deal.”

“You’re ridiculous. We were fifteen and on a ski trip.”

“No, you’re ridiculous. You never consider me.” Blaire would wait the rest of her life for that. Yes, he loved her. He just didn’t want her to come before himself.

I stopped next to my car, unwilling to move my feet forward toward the house. What if no one else was in there? What if I was trapped inside with them?

Stone came around the side of the house, shaking his head and carrying a beer. “Here.” He handed the bottle to me. “They are a
fucking
nightmare.” I took a sip of the beer. A long one. “Like, literally. They’re fucking each other, and they give me nightmares.” He leaned back against the quarter panel of my car. “Why are you just getting down?”

“I had to work.”

“Ew. Gross. Sorry.” He stood straight and turned toward the house. “You coming in?”

“Fuck you, Rob!” Blaire’s shriek could shut down happy hour within a two-block radius.

Stone turned around and came back to me. He took the beer from my hand and finished it. “On second thought, let’s just go out.”

My choices were limited. Try my luck with Rob and Blaire, who were hitting a new level of screaming, or Stone, who was always one beer away from being a complete prick.

“I promise I’ll be good.” He stood very still. He was calm and serene and appeared sincere.

“No fighting.”

He held both hands up. “Promise.”

I looked at Stone and back at my car. I took a deep breath. This was a mistake.

“You’re smothering me!” Rob yelled at Blaire before another door slammed.

“Okay.” I unlocked my car and threw my bag back into it, letting it fall to the floor of the back seat before relocking the car. I put my small cross body bag over my head.

Stone smiled. Not kindly. More like he was satisfied that I’d finally figured out he was smarter than me and had let him make the decision. He was smug. I preferred it to him being angry. “Why is there a Scooby Doo book in the back of your car?”

I wasn’t used to sharing Rufus with anyone, but now that Stone had asked, I wasn’t sure why. “Why do you care what’s in the back of my car?”

“Okay.” He walked toward the curb, and I followed him.

Tank and Jack were walking back to the house barefoot with boogie boards under their arms and towels around their necks. They were joy and happiness. I was out with the heat miser. This weekend already made no sense. The only thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t want to be anywhere near Blaire. I hoped the fight escalated to the point of her going home, and then Rob could come out and party solo. That never happened though. Blaire’s tolerance for annoying arguments and wasted time was higher than any other human being I’d ever met. She’d rather ruin her own night and be present than salvage it and be away from him.

“Hey! Where you guys going?” Tank asked with a huge grin on his face. He was pleased Stone and I were together. Jack appeared confused, which was the more appropriate response.

“I can’t listen to those idiots argue about who Rob’s fucking anymore.”

“Oh,” Jack said, knowing exactly what Stone was referring to.

“It hasn’t occurred to either of them they should break up?” Stone asked, and my mind lit up with the thought of it. I was about to suggest that Stone should sit them both down and calmly and rationally explain why they’d both be happier apart, but then he finished his thought. “Fucking morons, they are.” And I bit my tongue. Maybe someone other than Stone should do it.

“So where are you going?” Jack asked. He was looking at me.

“Jam Session?” Stone asked me, and I shrugged. I was still in shock we were going anywhere.

“You are so fucking selfish!” Blaire screamed from the house. We were half a block away and could still hear her.

Stone rolled his eyes.

“We’ll catch up with you guys,” Jack said.

“I’d hurry if I were you. It’s like watching your parents fight when you’re twelve and you lie in bed and pray they’ll get divorced.” Stone’s laugh was sinister and filled with his usual anger. It was a rare glimpse into the darkness inside his head.

I let Stone lead the way down the sidewalk. A mixed crowd surrounded us along the walk. Some people were sandy and wet having just returned from the beach. Others were half ready—as in they appeared clean—and were roaming the streets searching for food. Some had already begun their night. They wore wedges and short skirts. Their faces were painted; their hair was gelled.

After a block and a half, Stone stopped and turned to me. “Why are you walking behind me?”

I shrugged, because admitting I felt more comfortable three feet behind him seemed like the wrong choice.

“Come here.” He was annoyed. He had no more patience for me than he had for anyone else. I checked the time on my phone and wondered how long it would be before Tank and Jack showed up.

I took a deep breath and caught up. “Sorry.”

There was no line at the Bottle & Cork. Stone and I paid our ten dollar covers and walked through the door and onto the patio. He ordered us each a beer with a rock face, not even smiling at the attractive girl leaning over to hear him. He was immune to arousal.

The air horn sounded, and we all stood in silence as the band played “The Star Spangled Banner,” commencing this afternoon’s session. Even our country’s national anthem and the cheers it evoked didn’t change Stone’s unenthused expression.

I willed the others to come. Jack and Tank could handle Stone. Mila was great at it. I was terrible. I could barely handle myself, let alone this fire head. I tried to maneuver us into a spot that was less crowded. Less chance of someone bumping into us and setting him off. The band played, and everyone around us was happy. Stone was, too. I just wasn’t sure how long it would last.

He smiled the same way he had in our driveway. He was trying. “Are you seeing anyone?” Stone asked in the exact way you would expect him to. He demanded the information. It wasn’t sly or suave. It was an interrogation.

“Ah. Yeah. On and off.” Stone didn’t move any part of his face. “Sometimes.”

“You sound like as big of an idiot as Blaire.”

“Thank you?”

“You talking about Jackie?” Jack’s voice asked in my ear.

I closed my eyes. I was equal parts annoyed with his assessment and thrilled he was there with us. I sighed. “Yes.”

He reached up and squeezed Stone’s shoulder, and then Mila and a gaggle of half shares surrounded us.

“Where’s Tank?”

Jack shook his head. “He’s working on something back at the house.”

“Like what?”

Jack took a sip of his beer. “Some masterpiece. He’s going to meet us out in a little bit.”

“Oh.”

Mila danced around. She moved to the front of the crowd and made love to the lead singer as he belted out the lyrics. He sang them directly to her and pointed as he did. She enchanted him in less than three minutes. She was wearing a cropped top tied under her breasts and a pair of black short shorts. She was captivating even to me. Stone watched her dance, waiting to erupt.

After an hour, the band took a break, and the singer escorted Mila to the bar for a drink. Stone and Jack were discussing the Redskins, and the rest of the house was pulling me into their circle and singing at the top of their lungs to the deejay. I stepped away when the song ended and snuck out of the bar so I could breathe. I stopped three feet from the door and did just that. I faced the line of people waiting to get in and inhaled deeply. I needed space. I sought the distance that I was always able to control, and that living with this group of strangers threatened every weekend.