You're to Blame(55)

“Oh, that’s right, you’re Sigma Nu.” I jot down his demeanor and body language at my response. Anything I can use to personalize the article is beneficial. This guy isn’t giving me much more than meaningless banter. I need more from him to pull this off smoothly.

Ari sneers, leveling me with a swift, sinister stare. “What a tragedy Jacob’s accident was.”

As his phone rings, he offers a finger in apology and answers. He turns until all I can see is the back of his chair.

Time to be nosey. I stand and walk along the glass walls, looking down at Ari’s kingdom. In his office corner sits a small table, matching his desk. Picture frames line the outer edge. I bend to get a better look at the more personal side of Ari the man, and a little less of the businessman.

An old, black and white wedding photo sits in the first frame. The man in it has similar features as Ari. Must be his father. My eyes scan over a few baby photos, and lastly land on one of Ari with a young blonde girl.

A throat clears from behind me, and I startle before coming face to face with Ari. His eyes drift to the picture I’m inspecting.

“My daughter,” he explains, grabbing the frame. His voice softens, and surprisingly, his smile demonstrates the unconditional love only a parent possesses.

“She’s beautiful,” I say of the familiar face I’ve seen arguing with Duke. My curiosity kicks into overdrive. There’s a connection, somehow.

“Stacey.” He says her name with pride. His greatest accomplishment, I’d say. “She goes to university here. You may know her.”

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, sir.” My heart softens for this hardened man. The expression that goes something like ‘even serial killers have friends’ accurately sums up Ari. He’s rough around the edges, but soft enough to allow room for those he loves.

“I hate to run out on you, Charlotte, but I have business to attend to.” We shake hands, and he rushes back to his desk. “Any other questions, please e-mail them over, and I will be happy to answer them.”

“Thank you.” I tuck my notepad in my bag and leave, but not before I get one last glance at the legendary man.

“I’ll be there soon.” Ari’s on his cell phone, his head tilted down. He unhooks the top button of his dress shirt. “How are you? Everything check out?” His brow furrows, and worry laces his voice.

I step away, afraid I’ll be caught eavesdropping on his intimate moment.

Back in the safety of my car, I jot down the remaining information I acquired during our odd encounter. My phone rings, and I jump, banging my knee on the steering wheel.

“Hello?” I answer, tossing my bag in the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel’s voice is a calming balm over the shit show today.

“I just finished the interview. The guy’s a creep, and I don’t think I got enough,” I explain, reversing and pulling out into traffic, stomping on the gas. I can’t get away from here fast enough.

“If anyone can pull a story out of nothing, it’s you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” The clap of Rachel’s straightener rings in my ear.

“You going out or something?” I pass Murphy’s, always a good reminder of Duke. My mind grows foggy from the Rolodex of memories of our time spent together.

“Actually, we are going out.”

Oh, for shit’s sake. “I can’t do a night at Murphy’s.” Will she allow me to ditch tonight and crawl under my covers? I want to live in my misery for one night. Duke hasn’t called, and I don’t know what that means.

“Actually, we were thinking about a much more relaxed evening.” Her voice is muffled, so I assume she’s put me on speaker to finish her hair.

“We?” Relaxed is something I can do, but who in the hell is we?

“Lydia and I have been hanging out a little bit. She’s cool as hell. You’ll love her. Well, we were talking about wanting a reason to veg out and just relax, so GIRLS’ NIGHT!” Rachel squeals. “How does that sound? I told Lydia we’d be there around six.”

“It actually sounds perfect. I could use a night in.” The traffic light turns green, and I slam on the gas pedal. My eyes shift from the road to the clock on my dashboard. “I’ll be at the apartment in five, and then we can head out.” I hang up and toss my phone beside me.

Hanging out with Lydia may be a good thing. Maybe, she’ll give me a look into the kind of mind that doesn’t call a girl after sleeping with her.

Fuck you, Duke Anderson.

So much for not making it a big deal.

*****

Rachel is right. Lydia is a doll, more voodoo than Barbie, but sweet as hell. We show up at the apartment, and she greets us with a pitcher of sangria. After the last few days I’ve had, I’d say she and I are on a fast track to becoming close friends.

“Twenty questions.” Lydia kicks my end of the couch. “I barely know you girls, so let’s play twenty questions.”

“What?” My eyebrows pinch together. “What is this? Middle school?”

“Oh, come on, play along.” Rachel laughs, nodding eagerly.

“Fine.” I clutch the purple throw pillow to my chest.

“How many people have you slept with?” Lydia asks, not wasting any time. The doorbell rings, and the three of us appear surprised. “Saved by the bell, Charlotte.” She stands on the couch, steps over me, and bounds to the door. She swings it open without looking through the peep hole. A girl like Lydia doesn’t fear much, not even a burglar, apparently.