Authors: Janet Nissenson
Shattered: (21 page)
After the waiter took their orders – crème brulee French toast with a side of bacon for Lauren, a veggie egg white scramble with whole wheat toast for Angela – Lauren was right back in attack mode.
“Now, I don’t know if this is some really bad joke you’re trying to play on me, but if so I’m definitely not laughing,” Lauren told her sternly. “I cannot think of any other
reasonable
explanation why you can’t at least tell me this guy’s name. The only other reason that comes to mind is that he’s some sort of international spy, or works for the CIA or Interpol or something.”
reasonable
explanation why you can’t at least tell me this guy’s name. The only other reason that comes to mind is that he’s some sort of international spy, or works for the CIA or Interpol or something.”
Angela laughed. “Nothing quite that mysterious. And I think you’ve been watching too many of those espionage movies you love. Tell me the truth – what movie did you watch on your flight home?”
Lauren had the good graces to look sheepish. “Okay, I admit it. The latest Bourne movie was playing. And on the flight out I watched Bond
and
Mission Impossible. But you’re trying to divert the subject here, Angie. Why can’t you tell me anything about your mysterious – and apparently filthy rich – new man? I mean, I’m no fashionista like Julia or my aunt Maddy but I’ve had my ass dragged along on enough shopping trips to know that outfit you’re wearing is probably worth two grand – not counting the watch or the jewelry. And – Jesus – is that a Fendi bag down there? Add another thousand – at least – to that total.”
and
Mission Impossible. But you’re trying to divert the subject here, Angie. Why can’t you tell me anything about your mysterious – and apparently filthy rich – new man? I mean, I’m no fashionista like Julia or my aunt Maddy but I’ve had my ass dragged along on enough shopping trips to know that outfit you’re wearing is probably worth two grand – not counting the watch or the jewelry. And – Jesus – is that a Fendi bag down there? Add another thousand – at least – to that total.”
Angela fidgeted, clearly discomfited by the direction their conversation was headed, and stared down into her coffee mug. “Julia would be pleased to learn that you actually paid attention during all those shopping excursions.”
Lauren scowled. “Julia would be as pissed off – and worried – as I am about this whole mess. Or she would, if she wasn’t involved in a questionable relationship of her own. You know I was never the biggest Sam fan all those years they were together, but he’s a prince compared to this asshole Lucas she’s dating now. There’s something fishy about that guy, I knew it from the first minute I met him. And it sounds like he’s not the only bad smelling boyfriend I need to worry about. At least I know his name and met him face to face. Unlike your mystery man. So, come on, spill the beans, Angie. You know you want to, I can see it in your eyes.”
“I can’t.” Angela sighed. “I’m sorry, Lauren, I really am, but this is one time in our lives when I can’t share with you. Just know that he’s a great guy, he treats me well, and, most importantly, I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been.”
“Hmmph. Sounds to me like you’ve been brainwashed. Or drugged. Let me see your arms.”
Angela gaped at her in shock. “No! I am
not
doing drugs, you idiot, and you are
not
checking my arms for track marks. I admit all of this sounds a little suspicious, but you’re going to have to trust that I know exactly what I’m doing.”
not
doing drugs, you idiot, and you are
not
checking my arms for track marks. I admit all of this sounds a little suspicious, but you’re going to have to trust that I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Famous last words, Angie. I’ll reserve judgment on that, if it’s all the same to you. Has he met your parents yet?”
“Are you high? Smoked something wacky down in South America?” inquired Angela in disbelief. “Even if I wasn’t supposed to keep all of this hush hush, my parents are probably the last people I’d want him to meet right now. As usual, they have no idea about what goes on in my life and are quite content with that state of affairs.”
“Well,
I
want to know,” insisted Lauren. “Sorry, but this whole situation sounds creepy to me. I mean, you can’t even tell me his fucking name? What’s it like – Beetlejuice – where you say his name too many times and bad stuff starts happening?”
I
want to know,” insisted Lauren. “Sorry, but this whole situation sounds creepy to me. I mean, you can’t even tell me his fucking name? What’s it like – Beetlejuice – where you say his name too many times and bad stuff starts happening?”
Angela shook her head in frustration. “God, you are just like a pitbull sometimes, you know? The main reason he wants to keep it quiet is because we work together. Not directly, but at the same firm, and the gossip mill in that place grinds round the clock.”
“I guess I can understand that,” admitted Lauren grudgingly. “But that doesn’t explain why you can’t tell your family and friends.”
Angela looked decidedly ill at ease, her agitation becoming more apparent the more Lauren continued to push her. “He’s just – private, okay? And I don’t want to mess this up, Lauren. I feel – alive when I’m with him. More alive and happier than I’ve ever come close to feeling before. So please don’t push, okay? Can’t we just enjoy our meal and catch up? Please?”
Lauren blew out a breath, not in the least bit willing to drop the subject. But she sensed that Angela would really start to clam up if she continued to probe right now, so she merely shrugged and allowed the subject to be changed.
However, it wasn’t in Lauren’s nature to ever give up on anything. There had only been one time in her entire life, in fact, when she’d backed away from something and moved on, too hurt and disillusioned to pursue it further. This situation with Angela’s mystery man was definitely not something she was prepared to let go quite so easily.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” she asked casually as they tucked into their meal. She noticed that Angela was eating more than she normally did, and wasn’t pushing the food around on her plate. Lauren guessed that Mystery Man was responsible for this, as well as the ten pounds she’d packed on in all the right places.
Angela grimaced. “What do you think? I hate the very thought of going there, and you just know my mother and sisters are secretly wishing I won’t show up.”
“You could always go to New York with us. We’ll see Julia, go out drinking and dancing, hopefully convince her not to drag Lucas the Loser along for the ride.”
“As awesome as that sounds, you know I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t go home. Marisa’s cooking dinner this year and half of Joe’s family will be there, so of course we have to keep up appearances, don’t we?”
Lauren played her next hand very carefully. “Why don’t you just go away for a nice long weekend with your new man? I mean, if being with your family just makes all of you miserable, why not do something to make you happy for a change?”
Angela closed her eyes, her hand trembling as she picked up her coffee mug. “Don’t, Lauren. I thought we just agreed we weren’t going to talk about this anymore.”
Lauren pointed an accusatory finger. “
I
never agreed to anything. All I did was table the discussion to humor you for a little while. Honey, I’ve just begun to hound you.”
I
never agreed to anything. All I did was table the discussion to humor you for a little while. Honey, I’ve just begun to hound you.”
Angela glared at her darkly. “Hound all you want but I’m not answering your questions.”
“Does he beat you? Is that why you’re scared shitless of him? If you’re in an abusive relationship, Angie, just say the word and I’ll give the asshole some real abuse.”
“Jesus.” Angela sounded disgusted. “Always the badass, aren’t you? But, no, he doesn’t beat me and I am not in a physically abusive relationship. Can’t you just leave it alone? I’m happy, I’m safe, and I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” muttered Lauren. “What other ridiculous rules does this guy have for you? Not that keeping his identity a big ole secret isn’t already mega disturbing.”
Angela sighed wearily. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you a few juicy tidbits – nothing too detailed – and then you drop the subject. Agreed?”
Lauren scowled, but sensed her suddenly reticent best friend wasn’t prepared to offer up anything more. “Fine. But they had better be really juicy tidbits.”
“I see him two to three times a week. I never know exactly when but when he calls I go. He picks out all my clothes, bought me a wardrobe that Julia would stab me in order to steal, tells me how to dress, orders my food at restaurants. He fucks like a wild beast, is hung like a horse, and I have trouble walking the next day after a night with him. And I’m crazy in love with him but don’t dare let him know for fear he’ll break things off. And that’s all you’re getting.”
For the second time that day, Lauren was shocked – utterly and completely shocked – and she stared at her best friend in total disbelief.
“Wow,” was all she could think of to say. “That’s, um, not exactly what I was expecting to hear, but – wow. Can I ask you just one more question and then I promise I’ll leave it alone?”
Angela looked wary. “You can ask. Can’t promise to answer, though.”
“These rules – this control he has over you. Do you actually
like
it?”
like
it?”
“Yes. I know it sounds crazy but I do. When he first laid it all out for me – what he would expect if we kept seeing each other – I wanted to tell him to go fuck off. I stayed up almost all night weighing the pros and cons, came real close to calling you and asking for advice.”
Lauren smirked. “Betcha you can guess what my advice would have been. It would definitely not have been to tell you to become this – this little subservient slave girl you’ve turned into. Why in the hell did you ever agree to something so ludicrous, Angie?”
Tears shimmered in Angela’s huge brown eyes. “Because it was the first time in my life that anyone ever tried to impose rules on me,” she whispered unevenly. “And even though I know he doesn’t love me – will probably never love me – at the very least he cares enough about me to set down those rules. In his own way it feels that he cares more about me than my own family ever did. I don’t expect you to understand, Lauren, and certainly not approve, and I know this is all sorts of fucked-up. But he makes me happy and that’s not something I’ve been able to say too many times in my life.”
Lauren nodded, sliding a hand over her friend’s and giving it a squeeze. “Okay, then. As long as you’re happy and safe and it’s enough for you, I’ll back off. But if you ever need me to kick his ass, I’ll wrap one of my three black belts on and wipe the floor with his sorry ass.”
Angela chuckled. “Now that I’d pay good money to see. After all, he’s more than a foot -”
Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. Lauren had noticed that Angela had kept the phone on the table next to her place setting during the entire meal, and had checked it at frequent intervals. She answered it now on the first ring and turned away slightly, speaking in a low, hushed voice.
And then, for the third time in less than two hours, Lauren was shocked speechless again as Angela ended the call, pulled out some cash from her wallet and set it on the table as she stood.
“I hate to eat and run, but, well, I’ve got to go,” Angela told her briskly. “You’re heading back to Big Sur this afternoon, aren’t you?”
Lauren continued to stare as Angela dropped the phone into her satchel. “You’re leaving? You’re just fucking walking out on me this way? I thought we could hang out awhile longer, get caught up, maybe see a movie.”
“I’m sorry. I just saw him last night and honestly didn’t expect to hear from again this soon. But I’ve got to go, Lauren, so please understand. And don’t worry, okay?”
Lauren stood reluctantly and gave her best friend a fierce good-by hug. “Okay. I’ll call you in a couple of days. Hey, I know you can’t give me any details but how about a rating? Like, on a scale from one to ten, is he –”
“A twenty. At least. Gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Angie.”
But Angela was already hurrying out of the café like the place was on fire. And, despite the half-hearted reassurances she’d given her, Lauren couldn’t help but have a very, very bad feeling about the situation her girlhood friend had gotten herself into.
Late November
Nick propped the pillows up against the headboard and lounged back, regarding Angela with barely concealed amusement. “Well, now that we’ve taken the edge off, Angel, why don’t you tell me what’s been on your mind all night? And don’t try to deny it, because you’re strung tighter than a brand new tennis racket right now.”
Angela smiled a bit sheepishly. “Good thing I followed the advice you gave me that first night about never playing poker. There’s really nothing you don’t miss, is there?”
He ran a hand over the curve of her naked hip, then to her buttock. Less than a minute after they’d arrived at her apartment after dinner he’d promptly stripped her, bent her over the side of the bed, and fucked her hard from behind, holding back his climax until he’d made her come twice. Only then had he finished undressing and only then had he spoken a single word.
“Nothing,” he agreed matter-of-factly. “And I knew you were wound up about something the minute you walked inside the Biltmore tonight. So let’s not waste any more time, hmm? What’s bothering you, Angel?”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, having dreaded this particular conversation for weeks now, but knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer. After all, Thanksgiving was less than a week away and she had to get answers now.
“I, um, well, that is,” she stammered. “My, uh, family will be expecting me to see them next weekend. For Thanksgiving, you know. And I know I’m not supposed to ask about your schedule, or when we’re going to see each other, but -”
“Relax.” His hand moved to her nape soothingly. “I just assumed you’d be seeing your family for the holiday weekend. And I, very unfortunately, will be spending my weekend with my father and stepmother. One of the very few times I see them all year.”
“Oh.” The relief she felt was like a huge weight being lifted off her shoulders. “Okay, well, I’m glad. I mean, glad that we got that out in the open,” she added hastily. “I’m
definitely
not glad to be spending Thanksgiving with my family.”
definitely
not glad to be spending Thanksgiving with my family.”
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