Unfinished Business (26 page)

“No, she’s probably…” My reply tapers off when I notice the weird expression on his face. He looks like somebody just seriously rocked his world—and not in a good way.

“Have you seen her yet today?”

Is he going to ask me to go find her? Please, please, don’t let that happen.
“No, I’m sure she’s right around here somewhere,” I say while hoping nothing could be further from the truth.

I swing my backpack up and slowly inch toward the door. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Neville?”

“No.” His whole face pulls together. “I don’t think so… It’s about—”

“The pool party. I know.” I stop moving and offer a false, reassuring smile. “Really, she must have everything under control.”

He rubs his palms together then stuffs his hands into his pants pockets.

Talk about stressed. But I guess that makes sense. If the event tanks I bet he could lose his job. Good God, would they hire Caroline to replace him?

The horror.

Maybe I should ask him for a letter of reference real quick. Before somebody from Management shows up with a nasty notice in one hand and a cardboard box in the other. Probably not the best time for that though…still. “Um, Mr. Neville—”

“Have you seen her today or not?”

Can men get PMS? Because that personality flip was amazing. Lucky for both of us, I am an experienced PMS handler. “You’re right. She isn’t here. I haven’t seen her. I don’t know where she is.”

“If you do see her, have her come down to the model which, thanks to you finding that new company, looks wonderful. I’ll be down there with some of the guys from Regional for a while.” He pauses and looks straight at me, all serious. “We’re having a company dinner tonight after everything wraps up. You’re an essential part of our team so you need to be there. Bring your boyfriend.” Mr. Neville is smiling but I can tell he’s got something on his mind. “I’ve invited some of the other new people who’re making a difference around here. It’s going to be a fun time.”

Since I won’t be any part of the team after Caroline shows I just nod as I inch a little farther from him and closer to the French doors. When he ducks into her office, I slip outside and hurry across the parking lot.

People from A-One Conference, the company doing the set up for the pool party and raffle drawing, are swarming all around the pool. Still no sign of Caroline. Lucky me. I scurry between the buildings and jog to the storage shed.

The coast is clear so I dash across the drive and slip inside the shed. Tony’s wide, walk-behind mower and tool chest are on the far side. Near the door are rows of chemicals and God knows what else. It doesn’t matter to me what’s stashed in there, because all I need is a place to plop myself down, which I find under the window that looks out on the back entrance.

As I’m slipping off my backpack, my phone starts humming. I pull it out and check the display.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Have we missed anything yet? Because Sandy just called to say she’s on her way. So we haven’t left yet.”

I shake out a blanket I’d stuffed into my backpack and spread it out, which is difficult to do one handed. “No, Mom. You know, you really don’t need to come all the way here.”

“Of course we’re coming! This is your big day and we’re so proud of you.”

I drop down and stare out at the slice of world visible past the slightly open door. “Thanks, Mom, but, really you don’t need to come.”

“Of course we’re coming. How are you, by the way? Are you going crazy, honey? Getting everything all set? You must be a nervous wreck!”

I glance at the stack of ticket stubs visible through the mesh pocket of my backpack. “I made a deal with the conference planning company. I told them they could invite their staff to the pool party if they also put up the stage I’m using for the raffle drawing. So I’m all set.”

“Well! Aren’t you the savvy businesswoman? Are you sure we aren’t going to miss anything by not being there already?”

“Really, Mom. Things won’t get going for a couple hours at least.”

“You’re sure we’ve got plenty of time? We can stop at McDonald’s on the way?”

Mom and Aunt Sandy are hungover?
“You guys want to stop at McDonald’s?”

“We don’t. Frankie does.”

“Frankie? He’s coming? Does he know how boring this whole thing is going to be?”

“No, honey. It won’t be boring. It’s your raffle. We’re all so proud.”

“Okay, but if you’re all totally bored out of your minds, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“No, if we’re bored, we’ll go to Greektown. Remember how much you used to love getting pizza there? Well, Frankie’s never been and—oh! Here’s your aunt! See you soon!”

My own mother hangs up on me.

Thinking about the busy bee workers taking care of everything for me, I get out the Grisham book Nick gave me a while ago and lean back. After about twelve pages, I realize nobody is funny, having sex, or wearing cool shoes that cost more than my entire wardrobe. I glance at the cover. Brown stuff. That should have been my clue. I like thoughtful books as much as the next girl does, but geez, couldn’t there be at least one hot person?

I put the book aside, curl into my blanket and close my eyes.

* * * *

Dreams should
not
have cell phones.
Oh. It isn’t part of a dream, it’s my phone. Waking me up. Time?
I check my watch, sigh with relief that it’s just a little before three, then answer the phone with a mumbled, “Hello.”

“Hayley? Where are you?”

“Tony?”

“Yeah. Where the hell are you?”

I grin sleepily as I talk to weird Tony. “Where the hell are you?”

“Driving around trying to find a goddamn place to park my fucking car.”

Bet he wishes he were having a nice nappie in the storage shed. The symphony of noise coming across the line is ridiculous. Something about it is vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. “What’s all that noise?”

“People keep honking at me because I keep turning the wrong way. All the roads are fucked up because of the race and I can’t park in the lot by the pool.”

“Is all the parking taken?”

“No, it’s just… Too hot to park there.”

Too hot? What, is his car made of wax?

“Hayley!”

Whatever. I push my hair off my face as I stand up and look out of the window. “Can you get to the back entrance? I know they have it blocked off—if you go around the barrels you’ll be able to park on the lawn by the storage shed.”

There’s a colophony of honks from the other cars and swearing from Tony, then, “I— Wait. Damn—get back in there…”

That sound. What the hell?

“Tony, do you have chickens in your car?”

“Damn it. How did you know?”

He’s as surprised as I am. What the hell is he doing with chickens? “Go to the back entrance, I’ll meet you there.”

After a couple more ‘goddamn its’ and ‘fuck yous’, he clicks off. A few minutes later, I spot him creeping along the side of the road like he’s trying to sneak in.

As he drives over the curb and rolls to a stop under a tree, I jog over to take a peek. Sure enough, he’s got chickens crammed in his car. I lean in closer for a better look. A beautiful, burgundy Araucana rooster is fighting with Tony, who looks like he really could’ve used that nappie. The bird is hopping around inside a box while Tony is trying to stuff it back in. In the back seat, two caged birds and two more boxes with holes are clucking and crowing and making a substantial fuss.

I stare at the box on the passenger seat. “Whoever put that bird in that box didn’t know what they were doing.”

Tony scowls at me. “No shit,” he says, trying to shove the bird back into the box. The rooster is flapping its wings and clucking like mad. Keeping one hand on the box lid, Tony turns off his car then grabs the roll of twine that’s sitting on his lap.

With quick, clumsy movements, he wraps up the box, which is shaking from the bird’s escape efforts.

In the back seat, a gorgeous Rhode Island Red and a huge, fat Leghorn are challenging each other with an energetic display of wing flapping. I turn back to Tony. “Are they all roosters?”

“Yeah.” He throws the end of the twine down and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “That’s what I needed. After I’m done here I’m taking them back. Thank God.”

“Needed for what?”

“Never mind,” he replies grumpily as he climbs out of his car.

I don’t blame him. I’d be a little touchy if I were driving around in the heat with five stinking chickens raising hell.

“I’m only here to watch that stupid dog.”

I check my phone. Two-fifty-eight. Nick should be here. In about twenty-five minutes Riana will be flashing by.

“Hayley!”

I spin away from Tony, to see my crazy cousin Frankie racing toward me. His smile is so wide, I grin back and even give him a hug when he collides with me.

He returns the hug, then jumps back, his eyes wide.

“Hey. Whatcha doin’ with those roosters?” he asks, as soon I as I finish introducing him to Tony.

Tony glances quickly at me then shrugs. “Nothin’.”

I tap Frankie’s shoulder. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve just been wandering around, you know. This place is pretty cool. It’s huge! Eww!” he wrinkles his nose. “I met that Caroline. You’re right. Her hair doesn’t move.” He holds his palms a few inches away from his ears and chuckles. “It’s like a helmet.”

“Was she at the pool?”

“Yeah. I ate three hot dogs. I would’ve eaten four but Mom wouldn’t let me. She said that would be disgusting.”

Tony starts unrolling the windows of his car and the noise from the roosters gets louder. “I guess I gotta go find Mrs. Klonski,” he says.

I glance at my phone again. Three-o-three. Tony finishes opening his windows then slams the last door shut on his mobile chicken farm. “Hey, Frankie. You going to be around for a while?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to earn some money?”

“Yeah?” Frankie gazes around—being a country boy he’s probably looking for a shovel or pitchfork. “Doin’ what?”

“Keeping an eye on these chickens. Making sure they don’t get out of their boxes.”

“Seriously?” Frankie eyes the car. “Just standing around? How much?”

“Ten dollars?”

“Yeah?” Frankie glances at me. “Think it’d be okay?”

“Sure, as long as you stay here. Do not wander off. Okay?”

After he nods, I point toward the pool and clubhouse and add, “I’ll tell your mom what you’re doing when I go up.”

After he nods, I head to the road.

Tony hollers his reluctant goodbye then wanders off to find Mrs. Klonski.

As I jog over to the curb, I spot Nick strolling toward me, with his usual long strides. “Parking was insane,” he says when he reaches me.

From up on the hill, Frankie starts yelling, “Over here, Nick! Hey!” He takes a few steps forward but must have remembered his promise because he backs up and touches the hood of Tony’s car.

Nick waves up to Frankie, grabs my hand and pulls me over for a quick but yummy kiss on the mouth.

“It’s, um…” I grip his fingers tightly and swing his arm between us, trying to find a way to make my request sound reasonable.

“What’s up?”

Still swinging his arm and this time avoiding his gaze, I add, “Can we um, not let on to my mom and Aunt Sandy that we’re…we’re…a thing?”

He stiffens his arm and frowns. “That’s what we are? A thing?”

I try to soften him with a smile.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right? Because I bet they sort of caught on when we danced for an hour straight then disappeared after the reception.”

He’s right and I know it. “I’m not ready to talk to my mom about it. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain it all later. I promise.”

Still frowning, he nods. “Okay but only for now.”

“I really will explain later.” Then I spot Josie crossing the road so I let go of his hand and whisper thanks. Smiling and waving, she hops up onto the curb.

Josie slows and jogs the last twenty feet. “Anybody…go by…yet?”

“Nope.” Josie and Nick stare at the chickens in Tony’s car at the same time but their probable question, ‘What the hell is going on?’ gets cut off by the sight of Riana flanked by several other riders speeding toward us.

She’s doing it! She’s in the first pack!

We all start screaming and jumping up and down, bumping into each other. The grin on Riana’s face as she zips past is picture-perfect.

Nick wraps his arm behind me then we grab Josie and shake her. I bet even the roosters are excited.

“Hey”—I poke Josie—“where’s your sister?”

After Nick finishes howling at Riana’s back, Josie says, “I dropped her off by the finish line. She’s walking around doing on-site interviews.”

Nick is pulling us away from the road because more riders are streaming by. “Where’s the asshole?”

Josie and I scan the riders. Peter is nowhere to be seen. The crush of racers thins and they start passing us in single file. Still no ex-boyfriend.

The peaceful whiz and whirr of bicycle wheels is broken by the throaty crow of a rooster. Josie, Nick and I swing around in unison.

“Frankie,” I scream, running over to where he’s trying to shoo the Rhode Island Red back into his cage. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get this thing back in his cage.”

I glance at the road, then back to him. “Why did you let him out?”

Frankie is waving his palms at the bird, the rooster is not about to go back into that tiny cage. “He looked so sad. I wanted to pet him.”

“A sad chicken?” I glance at the road again, still wondering what happened to Peter, then turn back to my cousin. “You wanted to pet him?”

He casts me a defensive look. “Your dad pets his chickens.”

I sigh. “Those are hens.”

Frankie stops waving his arms and pops head first into the open car window. His dangling legs wiggle back and forth as he starts yelling, “Get back in there. No! Bad chickens! Stop that! Hayley! The other one is getting out!”

The flurry of feathers tells me there’s going to be more trouble. Before I can get to Tony’s car, the Araucana hops up and perches on the passenger door, flapping its wings and flipping its beautiful, burgundy head.