Twisted(12)

Three hours later, I walk out of the elevator onto the 40th floor of our office building.

My stomach’s empty, but after a good nap, I woke up feeling better. Refreshed. Ready to take on the world and Anne Robinson. I walk to the small conference room and peer through the glass.

Can you see Drew? Sitting next to the little gray-haired lady in the wheelchair? While he’s speaking to the legal representation seated around the table, Mrs. Robinson’s hands disappear under it.

And a second later Drew flinches, like he’s been given an electric shock.

Old women have a thing for Drew.

It’s completely hilarious.

He gives Mrs. Robinson a harsh look. She just wiggles her eyebrows. Then he rolls his eyes before looking away, spotting me in the process.

Drew excuses himself and comes out into the hall, relief shining on his face like a beacon. “For the love of all that is holy—thank God you’re here.”

My lips slide into a smirk. “I don’t know; Mrs. Robinson seems to be enjoying your company.”

“Yeah—if she tries enjoying it any more, I’m going to staple her hands to the conference table.”

Then he looks me over, concerned. “Don’t think I’m not over-f*cking-joyed to see you, ’cause I am. But what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

I shrug. “Must’ve been a three-hour bug. I feel fine now.”

Drew cups my cheek and palms my forehead, feeling for a fever. “You sure?”

“Yep. Right as rain.”

He nods, but his eyes are suspicious, not totally convinced. “All right. Oh—we’re supposed to have dinner at my parents’ tonight. Think you’ll be up for it, or do you want me to cancel?”

Dinner at the Evanses’ is always an interesting affair.

“I should be good to go.”

He hands me the Robinson folder. “Okay. Your investment strategies got them all quivery. They’re wet and spread-eagled, just waiting for you to nail them.”

His imagery is slightly disturbing.

“That’s gross, Drew.”

He’s unperturbed. “You say tomato, I say tomahto.” Then he kisses me quickly. “Go get ’em, killer.”

He walks away and I head into the conference room to seal the deal.



So you’re starting to get it now, aren’t you? The problem, the big picture? I know it’s taking a while, but we’re getting there.

Enjoy the good times while you can—they won’t be lasting much longer.

The reason I’m showing you all this, is so you’ll understand why I was so shocked. How accidental—unintended—it all really was.

I guess life is like that.

You think you have it all under control. Your path so perfectly mapped out. And then one day you’re driving along and bam! You get rammed from behind on the freeway.

And you never saw it coming.

People are like that too. Unpredictable.

No matter how well you think you know somebody? How confident you are of their feelings, their reactions? They can still surprise you.

And in the most devastating of ways.





Chapter 4


Visiting with Drew’s family is never boring. Coming from a single-child home, I found the family gatherings a little overwhelming at first. But now I’m used to it.

Drew and I arrive last.

Frank Fisher—Matthew’s father—and John Evans stand by the wet bar in the corner, trading stock quotes. Delores is perched on the arm of the recliner beside Matthew, watching the football game, while Drew’s sister, Alexandra, aka “The Bitch,” and her husband, Steven, sit on the couch.

Mackenzie, Drew’s niece, sits on the floor. She’s changed since the last time you saw her. She’s six years old now, her hair is longer, her face a little thinner—more girlish, less toddler, but still adorable. She’s playing with a gaggle of dolls and miniature nursery accessories.

Drew’s mother, Anne, and Matthew’s mom, Estelle, are most likely in the kitchen. And if you’re wondering where Steven’s widowed father, George Reinhart, is, we won’t be seeing him until later.

As we walk into the room, Steven greets us and offers us both a drink.

We settle on the love seat, drinks in hand, and watch the game.

Mackenzie pushes a button on one of her dolls, and an animatronic voice fills the room. “No, no, no! No, no, no!”

Mackenzie’s head tilts as she looks at the annoying doll. “I think you’re wrong, Daddy. No-No Nancy doesn’t sound like Momma at all.”

The comment gets Alexandra’s attention. “What do you mean, Mackenzie?”

Behind his wife’s shoulder, Steven shakes his head at his daughter, but unfortunately for him, she doesn’t get the message.

Instead she explains, “The other day, when you were out, Daddy said No-No Nancy sounds just like you. But instead of no, you say, ‘Nag, nag, nag.’?” All heads turn to Alexandra, watching her like a ticking time bomb counting down to zero.

Steven tries valiantly to defuse her. He smiles and teases, “You have to admit, honey, the resemblance is uncanny. . . .”

Alexandra punches him in the arm. But he tightens his bicep before she makes contact, absorbing the blow. She punches him again, less playfully.