Amethyst

In the morning, two things are evident to me before I completely wake up. One: something is vibrating against my hip. And two: my head feels like it’s going to explode.

Wine is so good; how can it make a person feel so crappy? I open one eye to an incredibly bright, sun-spattered room. An empty wine bottle and glass taunt me from the bedside table. I guess maybe a whole bottle of expensive wine could make a person feel this crappy.

I close my eye and feel around in the sheets for my phone. I could have sworn I put it on the bedside table when I went to sleep. Lord, please don’t let me have drunk dialed or texted anyone last night. I’ve got enough problems right now.

I locate the annoying buzz and pull the heavy duvet over my head, shielding my face from the light of the room, and answer the call with an unenthusiastic, “Yeah.”

“You haven’t called me since you left, and I left you like twenty texts yesterday. You’re taking care of him, aren’t you? It’s Adam they sent you out there for, isn’t it? I can’t believe they …”

“Brea, please shush. You’re going to split my head open like a watermelon. Take it easy.”

“You’re hung over? After only one night? What the hell, Ame?”

“Yes, what did you expect? I’m stuck out here taking care of the master bailer, dual personality, bi-polar, all mighty powerful Silver Snake.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“Your friend, Vinnie, was at O’Malley’s, asking about you last night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. When were you planning on telling me how gorgeous he is?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean he’s cute and all, but I have this funny feeling when I’m with him.”

“That’s called being horny. It’s been so long, you forgot,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“Oh hush. I haven’t forgotten. It’s something else. Something, I don’t know … creepy?”

I press my hand to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t feel like dealing with that whole situation right now.

“All right, I’ll drop the hottie topic. How are you handling seeing Adam again, other than drinking a bottle of wine by yourself?”

“I don’t know. It’s surreal being with him again. It feels like an old wound has been ripped open, and everything hurts. I’ve never allowed myself to believe this day would come, that I’d be face to face with him again. I have to stay professional, Brea, and it’s so hard when all I want to do is scream at him and smack that smug smirk off his face.”

“Okay, you can’t smack the boss, so put that little scenario out of your head. You’re right; you have to keep it professional, but the personal part is going to keep getting in the way.”

The wheels in her brain are turning. Brea is great with advice, so I wait to find out what she’s got for me.

“What you need to do is march in there today and lay it out for him. Tell him you need an explanation or you’re going home. If he wants you to stay bad enough, then he will tell you what happened, and you can decide if you can get past it or not. If not, hey, we’re going to Florida, because Katelyn isn’t getting married anymore. If you can accept his reasoning, then you stay there and do your job, make him better, and then I’ll meet you in Florida.”

“Easier said than done, and what happened with Katelyn?”

“What do you think? Stupid teenagers think marriage is a solid way to go steady. Thank God they figured out it’s harder than it looks before they made it legal.”

“Smart kids.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. It was more like neither of them could get an apartment they could afford, and World War III broke out over it. Whatever. As long as she’s not marrying that turd, and I have vacation time, I’m cool with it. So, you gonna ask him what’s up?”

“I did, last night. He said he had a good reason. He won’t tell me what it is, and I’m just supposed to trust him,” I say with a snort. “As if.”

“So that’s what the hangover is about? Got yourself sloshed, so you could confront him?”

“Not intentionally. He left me a bottle of wine, and I tried to get rid of it. When I came home, it was next to the bed, and I was weak. I drank the whole thing. Then, the asshole called me, and it all came out.”

She groans, “Oh, Ame, you always did know how to keep things interesting. So how did you leave it?”

“I called him an asshole, I think. And I’m pretty sure I said I hate you. He laughed at me, and I hung up, jerk.”

Brea snickers, “Well, at least you left him laughing. Now get up and go to work, demand a real explanation, and you can look for me tomorrow on the beach. I’ll be the hot one in the green string bikini.”

“You seem confident he’s not going to tell me the truth.”

“He’s a man, isn’t he? Are they capable of telling the truth?”

“Yeah, true. Okay, this is going to take a while, so I’d better get going. I’m scared to even look in the mirror.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re gorgeous even on your worst day, Chica. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

“Okay, I will, and Brea?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

I can visualize her rolling her eyes and breathing a warm breath on her fingernails before buffing them against her chest.

“I know, what can I say? I’m the best friend to end all best friends.”

“You are. Love you.”

“Love you too, dork. Call me later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Keeping my eyes closed, I fling off the comforter and prop up on one shoulder for a moment and then to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. My head spins and my mouth waters. I don’t want to barf, so I sit and swallow, holding my stomach until I’m confident I can make it to the shower.

It’s a few degrees below zero today. I need to go shopping for a coat and some jeans. I have nothing to wear on a day like today, so I’m forced to put on one of stupid’s outfits.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my new temporary bedroom, I turn to look at my ass in the pair of dark wash jeans I’ve been gifted. Pretty damn good if I do say so myself. I wonder how he knew my size; I could have put on a hundred pounds over the past six years for all he knew.

Has he been watching me? Checking on me? No, surely not. After all, he left me high and dry. There wouldn’t have been a reason to look back. He’s famous, a star quarterback; he can have anything or anybody he wants. He made it crystal clear he didn’t want me.

I’m cinching the tie of a long plum-colored sweater when a frantic voice comes from the kitchen. It sounds like Casey, but she’s talking to someone.

Before I can pull on my boots, Casey bursts into the room, chasing a hundred-pound black and white Great Dane.

“Lady! Come back here right now, you naughty dog,” she yells, gripping the doorframe to keep her balance.

Lady rushes me, and I only have time to take one step back before she’s got her paws on my shoulders, licking my face.

“Oh my God! Ms. Amero, I’m so sorry. I was bringing you breakfast, and she must have followed me. Damn dog knows how to push the handle on the back door down to escape. I’m usually more careful,” Casey says, rushing to pull Lady off of me.

“Oh no, it’s fine. She just surprised me. Didn’t you, pretty girl?”

I scratch Lady’s neck and behind her ears, and she nuzzles me appreciatively, pushing her head against my chest, nearly knocking me off balance. She’s a huge muscular animal, but graceful and beautiful at the same time.

“Aw, you’re a good girl. Aren’t you, Lady?”

Casey groans, “Not today she’s not. Come on, Lady, get down. You know better than to jump on people.”

Casey tugs on Lady’s collar, and she retreats. Lady is still imposing on all fours. If I weren’t so comfortable with dogs, I’d be afraid of her. She sits down next to me, facing Casey defiantly, as if to say, “Ha ha. I’m safe here. You can’t get me.”

“Look at her all smug and arrogant.”

I chuckle when Lady looks up at me as if to say, “Are you going to let her talk about me like that?”

“Just like her owner,” I say.

Casey looks at me with surprise.

“Oh yes, I know he’s an ass. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”

I can tell Casey doesn’t know what to say. She probably wants to agree with me, but she also needs to keep her job.

“It’s okay, Casey. Lady can stay, if it’s not breaking any rules of course.”

She looks relieved that I’ve taken her off of the hot seat.

“Well, she’s not supposed to be in here,” she says, looking directly at Lady. “And she knows she’s not supposed to jump on people.” Lady looks away when she scolds her, and I laugh.

“I’m sorry. I know rules are important, but she’s really funny, Casey.”

The corner of Casey’s lip lifts in a semi smile. “Yeah, she’s a riot. I can’t even walk her anymore. She pulled my arm out of its socket a few months ago when she saw a rabbit. Alfred walks her now.”

Lady tips her head up to look at me. “You did that?” I ask, and she blinks innocently as I rub her head.

“Did you say something about breakfast?” I ask, and Casey jumps.

“Oh yes, crap,” she says, turning to leave the room. Lady lurches to follow, but I say her name with authority. “Lady. Stay,” and lo and behold, she listens.

I sit on the bench at the foot of the bed and slip my feet into the buttery soft boots that I only plan on wearing this once. I swear that man knew I wouldn’t have appropriate clothing when I arrived; it’s one more way to force me to accept his damn presents.

I check my makeup in the en-suite mirror for dog slobber and when I find that Lady has done no damage; I start for the kitchen. Lady, however, stays exactly where I told her to until I release her with a quick clap.

“Come on girl, time for breakfast.”

Lady trots along next to me into the kitchen where Casey is unpacking a bag of bagels and several different kinds of cream cheese.

“I brought you coffee. It’s black, but I stocked the fridge with a couple different creamers, and there is sugar in the cupboard. Hope that’s okay.”

“Oh yes, bless you. I’ll just take it black this morning. I need the caffeine.”

“Sorry about the wine. I told Mr. Silver you probably didn’t want it since it was hidden in the closet, but he insisted I put everything back and leave the wine out for you.”

“It’s fine, Casey. You didn’t pour the whole bottle down my throat in less than thirty minutes. That was all me. Now, I get to pay for it with a hangover from hell.”

“Maybe some food will help. Mr. Silver was upset I didn’t offer you something to eat yesterday.”

“Mr. Silver needs to mind his own business. I’ve been feeding myself for twenty-seven years without his help.”

Casey looks up from her plate of bagels with her mouth hanging slack. I guess nobody around here talks smack about the boss.

“You just keep taking good care of Lady here,” I say, throwing her a chunk of bagel. “She’s the only bitch you have to worry about.”

I take my coffee and a bagel, toss my purse over my shoulder, and make my way to the garage. I’m not usually a bitchy person, but I’m hung over, and I don’t like the way Adam is infusing himself into my life via his housekeeper. So far, the only thing I like about the new Adam is his dog.