Getting Dumped (18 page)

Pete sighed and dropped the hem of his shirt, blinking at me with red, watery eyes. “Any chance you’d let me wash my face before I answer that?”

My heart was still slamming against my ribs and I briefly ran through some of my suspicions about Pete. Of course since I’d already blinded and maimed him, the least I could do was offer a washcloth.

I turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open and gesturing for him to follow. He squinted and tripped over the step.

“Careful,” I cautioned.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered, limping toward the bathroom.

Feeling a little guilty, I ambled over to my laptop and did a quick Google search on treating the effects of pepper spray. I went to my kitchen and found baking soda, honey, and milk before heading to my bedroom to grab an old T-shirt that was about twelve sizes too big for me.

“Here,” I called to Pete through the bathroom door, tapping lightly to get his attention over the sound of running water. “Rinse with baby shampoo first, then wash up with equal parts milk and honey with a little baking soda. Put this shirt on so you don’t get it all over your face again.”

“Thanks,” Pete said, opening the door with his shirt off. I felt my jaw begin to drop, and I willed myself not to stare.

Not possible.

I was just grateful his eyes were still watery and his vision was sufficiently impaired so he didn’t notice me gawking like I’d never seen such perfect abs in the flesh.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t.

The urge to touch was suddenly overwhelming, so I retreated back to the living room to sit on my hands.

When he emerged five minutes later, his hair was damp and his face was still blotchy and red. The T-shirt that typically came down to my knees was straining across his shoulders and biceps, and I felt a pang of nervous hope that it might just split right in two. He was rubbing my lavender hand towel over his eyes, looking more handsome than he had the right to. I was still scared and furious, but I felt something inside me get a little melty.

“Look, I’m sorry I pepper sprayed you—”

“And kicked me,” he said, folding the towel tidily.

“And kicked you,” I agreed. “Actually, I’m not sure I’m sorry about that part. You scared the hell out of me. You couldn’t have called my name or something?”

“I did. That was right about the time you pulled the pepper spray.”

“I didn’t know I was so fast on the draw.”

“Yeah, well, something to remember,” he grumbled.

“What, for the next time you decide to accost me?”

Pete smiled weakly and limped over to my couch. He dropped down next to Blue Cat, who sniffed Pete’s hand and head-butted his leg. Pete began to pet him absently as he mopped at his eyes with the towel again.

Then he stopped rubbing and looked at me, just watching for a few endless moments. He didn’t say anything right away. I stood there at the edge of the rug, not sure what to do with my hands.

“I came over to tell you something,” Pete said at last.

“You couldn’t have called?”

“I could have, but I thought this was something best handled in person. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

I felt a little flutter of excitement in my stomach but pushed it down. “Oh?”

“Look, JJ — I think about you a lot. A whole lot. And not just in a friendly way. That’s probably become obvious.”

I felt my hands start to shake, so I folded my arms over my chest. My fists and elbows vibrated as my heart slammed hard against my ribs. This time, I knew it wasn’t terror. Not entirely, anyway.

“What about your girlfriend?” I challenged. “Does she know you’re thinking about me a lot?”

Pete sighed. “Right. See, this is part of the
something
I wanted to talk to you about.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Look, I haven’t been honest with you. With everyone at work, really, but you’re the one I really want to come clean with right now.”

I sat very still, not certain what he was telling me, but pretty sure it was best not to interrupt while he tried to get it out.

“You know how I said I had a girlfriend?”

“Of course. The one you bought the handbag for.”

“Right. My mysterious girlfriend back in L.A.”

I frowned at him, watching as he grew increasingly agitated trying to tell his story.

“There’s no girlfriend, JJ. I made her up.”

“What are you talking about? I saw her picture on your desk. The gorgeous brunette with the big boobs?”

Pete winced a little at that. “That’s my sister.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending. “You’re dating your sister?”

“No! No, I’m not dating my sister, are you nuts?”

“Well you’re the one who just told me he bought an expensive handbag for an imaginary girlfriend who may or may not be his sister.”

“Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead,” I said, leaning back in my chair. Pete took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. I felt a brief pang of sympathy as I noticed the red welts around his eyes.

“Look, I don’t mind being a secretary,” he said. “In fact, I love the job. I love the work, I love the people – I love everything about it. But you know as well as I do, most of the guys who work there are sort of good old boys.”

“Collin’s not,” I said, feeling an odd pang of defensiveness as I said his name.

I saw Pete’s expression darken just a little. “Right. Collin’s not. But the vast majority of guys out there are hardworking blue-collar, conservative men who aren’t entirely comfortable with the notion of a male secretary.”

“Or a female heavy equipment operator?” I added.

Pete gave me a lopsided smile. “You’re beautiful and so obviously girly that no one questions it. It’s a turn-on for half the guys out there to see you wheeling around in a 150,000-pound machine.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed.

“Look,” he continued, “the point is that I knew I’d be up against a lot of guys who’d be questioning my sexual orientation from day one. Not that there’s anything at all wrong with that, but—”

“Wait, you’re an action hero stud. Colt McTrigger? The guys out there worship you.”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t have certain assumptions about Hollywood and male actors and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” I said, holding up my hands. “So you supposedly made up a girlfriend to convince everyone you’re straight. Got it. Whatever.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“I’m not sure what to believe.”

“So which is it exactly? You think I’m gay or you think I actually have a girlfriend?”

“Both! Neither! I don’t know.”

Pete looked at me, his expression a little perplexed.

“Look,” I said, “the guy I’m kinda sorta dating has spent the last few months telling me the county has a strict policy about co-workers dating. I just found out there’s no such policy, so pardon me if I’m not tripping over my feet to believe everything the next guy tells me.”

“Right. Okay, so you’re feeling a little mistrustful.”

I sighed. “A little,” I said finally. “Look, I’m not sure this adds up. This is Oregon, for crying out loud. Aren’t we like the most liberal state in the U.S.? No one’s going to think you’re gay if you’re a male secretary without a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he insisted, staring at me with such intensity I had to look away. “I promise.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, meeting his gaze again.

Those green eyes stared straight into mine. I swallowed and forced myself not to look away this time.

“I just wanted to come clean with you,” he said finally. “I want to get to know you better.”

I stared at him, hating how vulnerable I felt, but wanting to get to the bottom of everything. “Why the hell should I believe you? How do I know your girlfriend isn’t sitting there in her stylish L.A. apartment right now watching
Sex and the City
reruns and sipping a cosmo?”

“I can promise you, that’s not the case.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I was still digesting the news.

“What if you talked to her?” Pete asked.

“Who?”

“My sister. Scarlet. The one in the photo?”

“Your sister’s name is Scarlet?”

“Focus, JJ. Let me call my sister. She’ll tell you she’s the one in the photo. That I don’t have a girlfriend. That I’m perpetually, hopelessly alone.”

“You make it sound so sexy.”

“I’m dialing right now,” he said, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

“You don’t have to call anyone,” I muttered, standing up and moving around the coffee table to sit beside him on the sofa. I stole a peek at the phone from the corner of my eye, trying to simultaneously convey indifference and catch a glimpse of his contacts list.

“
Scarlet
,” the screen read. Beside it was a small photo of the same brunette in the picture on his desk.

“It doesn’t say ‘sister’ or anything,” I pointed out, nodding at the phone.

“Let me see your cell.”

“Why?”

“I want to see if it says ‘sister’ next to Lori’s name.”

I sniffed and flopped back on the couch. “You don’t have to call anyone. It’s fine, Pete, really.”

He smiled and hit the “talk” button. “Butthead,” he said suddenly.

I scowled at him.

He held the phone away for a split second and whispered to me. “Not you, my sister. I’ve called her that since I was six.”

“Charming.”

He rolled his eyes and directed his attention back to the phone. “Hey, Butthead – I’m here with that girl I was telling you about, JJ?”

He listened for a second, then smiled at me. “Right, the fiery redhead with the nice butt. She wants to talk to you.”

My face had started to blaze from the butt comment, but I wasn’t offended. In fact, I was a little impressed that he thought highly enough of my butt to mention it to his sister.

Okay,that sounded weirder than it probably was.

“Give me the phone,” I muttered, grabbing it and turning away a little so he couldn’t see my face flaming. “Hello?”

“Is this JJ? This is Scarlet, Pete’s sister. I hear my brother really fucked things up.”

“Oh, well, he told me he had a girlfriend, and then—”

“Total bullshit. Are you kidding me? Who’d want him? And I say that with the utmost affection for him, and with the fervent hope that you might actually be willing to date him.”

“Date him?”

“He’s nuts about you – I can tell you that much.”

I looked at Pete, who was studying me with a smile. “What’s she saying?”

“She’s telling me about your incestuous relationship,” I informed him.

I heard Scarlet’s voice in my ear again. “Is he sitting there doing that thing where he tries to look all wide-eyed and innocent?”

“I don’t think he can open his eyes that wide right now. I nailed him with pepper spray about fifteen minutes ago.”

Scarlet laughed, a rich, warm sound that made me like her regardless of what I thought of her brother.

The jury was still out on that one.

“I’m sure he deserved it, whatever he did,” she said. “Look, my brother’s an idiot – that’s for sure. But he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Not even close. He told a dumb white lie and it obviously backfired on him when you showed up and he realized he wanted to get to know you.”

I felt my cheeks growing warm again. “I take it you’ve already spoken with him tonight?”

“Oh, I’ve heard about nothing but you for the past week. Trust me, the guy is single, stupid, and crazy about you.”

I studied Pete again. He was petting Blue Cat, watching me with interest.

“She giving you an earful?” he asked, leaning back against my couch cushions.

“Something like that.”

He held out his hand. “Let me talk to her.”

“Just a minute,” I said, waving him away. “Hey, Scarlet? Tell me something about him that only a sister would know.”

She was quiet for so long that I wasn’t certain she was still on the line. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer.

“On the back of his head, there’s a scar about an inch long. You’ll only see it if he shaves his head, which he probably hasn’t done since he was ten.”

“Okay,” I said, satisfied with that answer. Pretty sure I’d still check later.

But Scarlet wasn’t done.

“He got it when he stood up to the neighborhood bully for calling me a skank. I was twelve, Pete was eight, and the other kid was twice his size and almost twice his age, but Pete didn’t even blink. He just stood there telling that kid he couldn’t talk to me that way. That it wasn’t okay to say mean things. The kid hit him with a rock, and Pete bled something awful. But he didn’t cry. He’s got this intense sense of right and wrong, and he’s not afraid to stand up for the little guy. You know what I mean?”

Pete’s bottle-green eyes were watchful, intense. I blinked, seeing him as that eight-year-old boy hell-bent on standing up to a bully to defend his sister’s honor. I swallowed hard.

“JJ?” Scarlet asked. “You still there?”

“Yeah. I am. Thanks for that, Scarlet. I mean it. Hold on a sec, Pete wants to say goodbye.”

I handed the phone to him and got up off the couch. My hands were oddly shaky as I made my way to the kitchen, looking for something to snack on. I hadn’t had dinner, I realized, and set to work cutting up a brick of Tillamook cheddar and my favorite turkey sausage. I found a box of crackers and spread some on the plate, adding a handful of Greek olives to a little dish. I grabbed a half-full bottle of Chianti and a couple glasses and headed back to the living room.

Pete was just hanging up the phone as I set the tray on the coffee table.

“So you believe me now?” he asked, smiling.

“I guess,” I said, dropping onto the sofa beside him and reaching for a cracker. I stacked layers of cheese and meat on it, shoving it in my mouth and chewing for a bit. “I’m not sure yet. Your reason sounds pretty stupid.”

“What other reason would I have for inventing a girlfriend?”

“You tell me.”

Pete reached out for the wine bottle and poured a little bit in each glass. “Are you always this suspicious?”

“No, it’s a new thing,” I said grimly. “Ever since I lost my job and found out my boyfriend wasn’t truthful about county policies and you weren’t truthful about your girlfriend. Oh, and since Collin accused me of being a spy, and my sister’s intern went missing, and someone threatened me because I’m trying to figure out who’s making fake handbags.”