Chapter Ten - Paxton
I tense up at the offer. I stare hard at her. And all the things I should’ve been wondering about last night are suddenly the only things that matter.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask.
“I’ve been watching you,” she says softly
“Who. The fuck—”
“For a very long time.” Her voice is laced with sweetness. But for some reason it reminds me of poison.
“—are you?”
“I know more than you think.” This time it’s a tease.
“I might consider that a threat. People who threaten me generally end up dead. You think you’re some kind of spy, Sugar? You come in here bragging of your firearms permit, calling yourself a private investigator. Well, look here, cookie, you have no idea what you’re doing. You’re just some small piece of entertainment that makes a lot of noise and puts on a nice show. Some kind of diversion. And you know what I do with diversions?” I take a few steps closer. She steps back, bumping into the kitchen island. “I—”
But the phone rings. The fucking landline, which is hanging on the wall of the kitchen right next to Cinderella.
Before I even know what’s happening, she’s got the handset up to her ear, saying, “Hello?”
I freeze. She stares at me. “Yes, he’s here. Who may I ask is calling?” She bites her lip, eyes never leaving mine. She holds out the phone. “It’s your mother.”
I cover the distance between us in two long strides, snatch the phone from her, cup my hand tightly over the transmitter end, and growl, “You better take this opportunity to run the fuck away, Cinderella. Because it’s the only chance you’re gonna get.”
I turn my back to her, place the phone against my ear, and say, “Hey, what’s up?” as I walk out the back door to the patio and look across the ocean at the low-hanging sun.
“You have a girlfriend?”
“No.” I laugh. “No.”
“Paxton, girls don’t answer your home phone. Who is she?”
Why now, for fuck’s sake? I don’t hear from her in months and now, right now, this is the moment she decides to call? “Is there something I can do for you, Mother?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“And I’m not going to. What’s up?”
She sighs on the other end of the phone. “Something very interesting was just delivered to the house.”
My whole body goes tense. “What was it?”
“I don’t think we should talk over the phone, Paxton. I’ll come see you,” she says, a lightness in her voice that shouldn’t be there. “We’ll talk then. And go to the races. I haven’t been to Del Mar in ages.”
Fuck.
“The Debutante Stakes is next weekend. There is a Limitless filly running who I’d like to see. I have a car scheduled. I have other meetings with potential clients so we’ll meet in the barn. Shall we say… fiveish on Saturday?”
“Mother.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I really don’t have time for this right now. I just got a call from Nolan and I have to do some digging for him.”
“You don’t even like Nolan.”
“I know.” I try to massage the headache out of my temple with my fingertips. “But it’s weird and I can’t ignore it. So I need to go help him out because West isn’t around and he’s part of the problem. I can’t ignore them, you know that.”
“Well, I’m advising you not to ignore this either. As I said, Paxton, I have something to show you. You will want to see this. Now put that girl back on the phone. I need to ask her something.”
“You don’t, believe me.” I stare straight in Cindy’s eyes as she waits, a pinched look on her face. I turn my back to her. “And she’s already gone, anyway. Just leave it, Mother.”
“Call her back inside, Paxton. I have a question for her. And you know full well I will not take no for an answer. So you might as well just give in to me and get it over with.”
I huff out some air and turn around and find Cinderella leaning up against the open patio door. Arms crossed. Frowning. I walk over, cupping my hand over the transmit end of the phone again. “Don’t say anything,” I whisper, as I hand her the phone.
She looks surprised, but takes the phone and places it to her ear out of instinct. “Hello?” A pause. “Cindy,” she says, looking at me. “Yes, I do.” Then, “Yes, that’s true. How did you know?”
I shake my head at her, then drag a finger across my throat in a cut it off motion.
But Cindy is smiling. “I love them.” More smiles. “I’d love to.”
I pull the phone out of her hand and put it up to my ear. “No. Whatever you just asked her, it’s no. I’ll see you next weekend—”
“Paxton?”
“What?”
“You need to bring her along.”
“Why?” What the fuck is happening? I mean, Jesus Christ. I spend ten years doing the most questionable shit to dig scumbag offspring out of scandal and none of that was half as frustrating as Cindy and my mother right now in this moment.
“I’ll explain on Saturday. See you then.”
I get a dial tone, so I walk back inside and place the handset back on the base in the kitchen. “What did she ask you?”
“She asked if I like horses. Well, first she asked me my name. And I said Cindy because Cinderella, right?” She rolls her eyes. “And then she asked if I liked horses. Which is a yes, of course. I always had ponies growing up. And then she said, ‘You love the races, don’t you?’ And of course, I said yes again.” Cindy looks up at me. “She invited me to Del Mar next weekend to watch a race. So I get to meet her. She said if you didn’t bring me with you, I should just pick up my ticket at will call and show up in the Turf Club at five.”
“Is that right?” My head begins to pound.
“That’s right.” Cindy shrugs.
“So you’re going?”
“Oh, hell the fuck yes, I’m going.”
“What if we play that game tonight?” I ask, grinning, but it’s one of those evil grins. “And you lose.”
She swallows hard, then lifts her head up and squares her shoulders. “I’m a winner, Mr. Mysterious. You should get used to that fact. And I’ll play that game with you if you want. But it’s got nothing to do with your mother, whom I will be meeting next weekend. Even if I have to drive myself.”
I don’t think she knows what the game is. I think she’s been researching me. Came upon some clue from back in the day. I’m not sure how it got out, but she’s an investigator, right? Her job is to find dirt on people.
But my job is to cover it up. It’s like an ironic little paradox.
I walk over to her. Right up next to her. She’s not small, but I tower over her. She looks up with those giant blue eyes and I remember something.
“You’re blonde.”
“What?” It comes out as a whisper.
“The carpet doesn’t match the drapes, sugar. You’re blonde. You’ve got blue eyes and the face of a fairytale princess. Why do you dye your hair black and wear all that shit on your face?”
“Excuse me?” She narrows her eyes at me.
I narrow mine right back. “You heard me,” I say, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her in closer. Our faces are less than an inch apart. If anger wasn’t coursing through my blood right now, it might appear I was gonna kiss her.
I am not going to kiss her.
“You wear that makeup to hide. You dye your hair to hide. These clothes,” I say, pinching the fabric of her vintage Metallica t-shirt between my fingers, “are your disguise. You’re a sweet little liar, aren’t you? Tell me, Cindy. Which of the many things you told me since we’ve met are lies and which are actually true?”
I’m going to threaten her.
“Let go,” she says, placing both hands firmly on my chest and pushing me back. My feet don’t even move. I am a wall as far as she’s concerned. A mountain. Made of stone. Immovable. Insurmountable. Unconquerable.
“Let go? I thought we were fate, sugar? I thought we were partners?” I growl those words out like she’s the enemy.
She straightens her back and levels her gaze at me. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be,” I say, leaning so close to her face our noses touch. I stare into her eyes. “Find your own fucking way to Del Mar, bitch. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck away from me and my family.”