The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (14 page)

She nodded. “Thanks, Manny.”
 

She started to leave, but Manny added, “Oh, and Ivy didn’t want me to tell you until after you dance, but there’s someone here to see you. She says she’s your mother. And between you and me, she doesn’t look happy.”
 

The air left her lungs in a rush and she struggled to take a breath. Patty had ignored her mother’s threat to take Whitney. But there would only be one reason her mother would come to the Lusty Lady.
 

Chapter 7

Tonight was not like any other

I have never seen another

That kind of style, that kind of grace

“Reid. Earth to Reid.” Duncan’s voice broke into Reid’s trance but he ignored his friend and kept scratching away at his notebook.
 

“Reid, man.” Duncan slapped his hand over Reid’s notebook.

“What?” He lifted his head and glared at his friend.

“I asked you a question,” Duncan said. “What do you think of the cupcake company?”

“The cupcake company?” Reid ran his hands through his hair and tried to clear his head from the lyrics that were competing for attention in his brain. “I wasn’t listening.”

“No kidding,” Duncan said. “I figured that out when I told you about the cupcake girls themselves. You totally should have come to that meeting, man. They’re hot.” Duncan put his hands in front of his face, fanning himself. “Cute. Young. Hot. And…totally sweet, if you get what I mean. You’d love them. But the redhead’s mine. I already got her number and—”

“Not interested.”

“Um, what was that? Are you sick or something?”

“No, I’m fine.”
 

“Like hell you’re fine. The Reid I know would be all over this. Like frosting on a cupcake, if you get what I mean.” Duncan wiggled his eyebrows, but when he didn’t get a response, he slammed his hand on the table. “Okay. What’s going on?”

Reid shook his head and focused on the lyrics he was working on. It was shaping up to be a good piece. He hadn’t been in the writing groove for a long time. Too long. But lately the words were flowing. “Nothing,” he said. Maybe Duncan would just drop the whole thing.

But he wasn’t that lucky. “Nothing my ass,” Duncan persisted. “Something has gotten into you. You’re not the same, man. You’ve lost your edge.”

Reid pushed up from the table and went to pour himself some more coffee. Duncan had wanted to work at his apartment, said it was cooler and the vibe was better, whatever that meant. But Reid liked hanging out at the house. Where Whitney was, or would be when she got home. He wasn’t ready to admit it, but Reid was pretty sure Whitney was the reason he’d been so inspired to write. “My edge?” Reid tried to sound indignant. “I’ll have you know I’ve definitely not lost my edge. Besides that, I didn’t realize I needed an edge to write lame-ass jingles for even lamer companies to use in their really lame advertisements.”
 

“Whoa.” Duncan held up his hands in defense. “Settle down. And you know exactly what I mean. You’re off lately. Something’s different. You used to be able to bang out these ‘lame’ jingles in your sleep. But lately—”

“I’m just focusing on my work right now. I’ve been really inspired and I have to get them out while I can. So if my mind isn’t focused on cupcakes right now, you’ll have to forgive me.”
 

Duncan leaned back in his chair. He put his hand over his chin and looked at Reid like he had it all figured out. “I see,” he said. “I totally get what’s going on here now. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner.”

Reid put his mug down and backed up, resting against the counter. “And what’s that?”

“You like her.”

“Who?”
 

“Your new roommate.”

“She has a boyfriend.”

“And?”

“And we’re friends. And roommates. That’s it.”

“Right.” Duncan grinned. “You wanna know what I think?”

“No.”
 

Reid’s cell rang, giving him the distraction he needed. He pulled it out of his back pocket, and after a quick look at the call display, he was pretty sure he’d prefer Duncan’s interrogation over the phone call.
 

He held up one finger to Duncan, went into the living room and took the call.

“Mr. Phillips,
 
I’m so glad I got you. This is Marion, your sister’s mentor.”
 

Reid knew exactly who she was. Every time she called to report on Lizzy’s progress, she started the conversation the same way, as if Reid had forgotten over the period of a few days. “Yes, Marion,” he said. “Of course. How is she?”

“Well, as you know, we like to give the family regular information updates.” He’d heard the same spiel every time, too.
 

Reid nodded impatiently despite the fact she couldn’t see him. “Yes, Marion,” he said again. “I know. How’s Lizzy?”
 

“Oh, Mr. Phillips, did I catch you at a bad time? Because if it’s not a good time to talk, I’ll happily call you later. Perhaps when it’s more convenient for you to—”

“Now is fine.” He tried to stifle his impatience.
 

“Oh good,” Marion said and he could practically hear the sunshine come back into her voice. He’d never actually met the woman, but she struck him as the super peppy cheerleader type who always seemed to be on mega doses of uppers or extreme amounts of caffeine. But given that she worked in a rehab center, and was a recovering addict herself, it was probably the latter. “Well, Mr. Phillips, I must say, Lizzy is making some progress, that’s for sure. She’s quite a treat really because she seems to truly want to be here.”

Reid had trouble believing anyone truly wanted to be in rehab, but Lizzy had seemed ready to get help.

“I’m glad she’s cooperating,” he said.
 

“Well, that’s the thing, Mr. Phillips.” Reid could hear the hesitation in Marion’s voice before she continued. “Lizzy seems a bit too cooperative. We tend to worry about the ones who tell us all the right answers and do all the right things. Do you know what I mean?”

“No, not really. Shouldn’t you be happy she’s making progress?”

“Oh, Mr. Phillips, we are happy. But usually we can figure out why it was they turned to drugs and an altered reality in the first place. We haven’t been able to discover Lizzy’s trigger yet and until we get to the root of her problem, well…I’m afraid she’s at a high risk to return to the lifestyle.”

“So what you’re saying is you don’t know why Lizzy uses. Isn’t it just because it’s an addiction? Isn’t it your job to break the addiction and my sister will be fine?”
 

“It’s much more than just a physical addiction, Mr. Phillips. The mental component is very strong. But not to worry,” she said and Reid could almost see her smile through the phone line. “We’re working on it,” she continued. “And really, Lizzy’s making excellent progress. It won’t be long before she’ll be ready to go home.”

“That’s great news, Marion. Thank you,” Reid said, and meant it. “I know my sister’s in good hands with you. Recovery Ranch has the best reputation around.”

“That we do, Mr. Phillips. You have a fabulous day, now. And I’ll call you in a few days to touch base.”

Reid ended the call and stared at the phone for a moment, absorbing what Marion had just told him. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Whitney had come home. It wasn’t until he put his phone back in his pocket and looked up that he saw his roommate standing in the doorway where she’d likely heard the entire conversation about his sister’s situation. A situation he’d not planned on telling her about.
 

***

As soon as I saw Reid’s face, I knew I’d heard something I wasn’t supposed to.
 

“How much did you hear?” he asked again. The usual laughter in his voice, the friendliness in his eyes, the general lightness I’d come to enjoy about Reid, and even look forward to, was gone. He looked angry. Guarded. I didn’t recognize him. I forced myself not to take an instinctual step back.
 

“Your sister?” I asked softly. I waited for him to get defensive again because clearly it was a sore spot. And while I hadn’t heard everything, I’d heard enough to know he cared very much for someone who was hurting. My heart broke a little bit when he flinched. Reid opened his mouth to say something, but then his shoulders sagged and he simply nodded.
 

I moved away from the door and tossed my purse on the side table. Reid didn’t move when I tentatively touched his arm and I took it as a good sign when he didn’t pull away from me. “Hey, you don’t have to talk about it,” I said. “I mean, it’s not like we really know each other very well yet. Not that we will…I just…I guess what I’m saying is that…well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

I could have smacked myself for my completely moronic behavior. I wasn’t usually a rambler. In fact, I prided myself on being steady, calm and focused, just the way Grams raised me to be. But everything had me riled up because it wasn’t once, but twice in one day my tongue had gotten away from me. I started to pull away, but Reid’s hand clamped down over mine.
 

“Thank you,” he said.
 

I shrugged, mostly because I didn’t know what else to say. We stood like that for a few moments, and I took his other hand in mine. It was intimate, yet strangely, it felt right considering what I’d just overheard. “Everyone has skeletons in their closet,” I said. “Sometimes it’s best to keep them there.” I thought of my mother and everything Principal Brantford said about lifestyle and high standards. A chill went through me and I pulled away. Something flashed in Reid’s eyes, like he knew exactly what I was talking about. For a second, I considered confiding in him, but I held my tongue. Sometimes it was best to keep the skeletons in the closet where they belonged. Especially when your life was full of people who wouldn’t understand.

Reid nodded. “Skeletons,” he said slowly, like he was trying the word on for size. “I guess you’re right.”

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” The booming voice came from the direction of the kitchen, and I jumped back, my heart beating a ridiculous rhythm. “You must be Whitney.”
 

The man, who could only be described as a teenager in a man’s body, loped over to me and extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

“And you are?” I glanced between the man and Reid, who seemed a bit surprised himself.
 

As I watched, Reid regained his composure and waved in the strange man’s direction. “Sorry,” he said. “Whitney, this is Duncan. He’s my sort of business partner.”

I took Duncan’s hand and he dipped into a dramatic bow before kissing the top of my hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, Whitney. And what a treasure you must be to put up with this guy and give him a place to live.”

Despite myself, I giggled.
 

“Yes,” Reid deadpanned. “She’s a treasure. I’m so difficult.”
 

Duncan put his hand up to his mouth and whisper-talked to me. “I totally get it. Wait till he starts dancing around in his underwear. Then you’ll see what I mean.”
 

I laughed again, and Reid gave Duncan a friendly shove.
 

“What do you mean, ‘sort of business partner’, anyway?” Duncan asked. “We’re the dynamic duo.”

“And, it’s clichés like that one that ensure we’ll never be partners,” Reid said with a shake of his head. To me, he added, “Sometimes Duncan and I work together writing commercial jingles. He calls me when he needs a creative genius to bring the awesome.”

“Commercials, really?” I knew Reid worked in advertising, but we’d never had a chance to talk specifics. Turns out there was a lot about my roommate I didn’t know yet. I crossed my arms over my chest, enjoying the interaction between them. “Anything I might know?”

“No.”

“Of course.”
 

They spoke at the same time. I looked between them and raised my eyebrows at Reid who was shaking his head. “Which is it?” I asked him.

“You probably wouldn’t know any of them,” Reid said, “because they’re pretty stupid. Just cat food, doughnuts and jelly. Stupid stuff.”

“Jelly?” Everyone knew the Jiggly Jelly commercial. He couldn’t be talking about that one. I looked at Duncan and asked, “Like, Jiggly Jelly?”

“The very same one.”

I didn’t miss Reid rolling his eyes and shaking his head again, but I couldn’t help it. I raised my arms over my head and started singing. “Put the jiggle in your jelly. Your jelly. Your jelly. Put the jiggle in your jelly and get…”

Duncan joined me and together we started wildly gyrating around the living room, yelling, “Jiggly. Jiggly. Jiggly.”

We finished and collapsed together on the couch in a fit of giggles. It felt so good to laugh, especially after so much seriousness in one day.
 

“See?” I said, regaining control of my voice. “I do know some of your jingles. I can’t believe you wrote that.”

“Neither can I,” Reid said and shook his head. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he looked less than impressed with my performance with his business partner.
 

“You talk a big game, man,” Duncan said. He hauled himself off the couch and offered me a hand up. “But you love it.”

“Right,” Reid said. He turned away, but I saw the sliver of a smile on his face. “Well, like it or not, we need to get back to work. Are you done, Duncan?”
 

Duncan bent down and kissed my hand again. “It was super fun meeting you, Whitney,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing more of you.”
 

He gave me another dramatic curtsey-bow and sauntered out of the room.
 

“He’s fun,” I said to Reid.
 

“Right, fun.” Reid laughed. “And very frustrating at times. But yeah, Duncan’s solid.” He turned to go into the kitchen, but before he could leave, he spun around again. “Hey, are you going to be around for dinner, or do you have plans?”

I knew he was asking me about William. He’d never said anything outright, but I got the distinct impression that Reid didn’t like William very much. Which was probably fine because the feeling was absolutely mutual. It should probably bother me more than it did, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to muster up any energy to defend William. That was probably a bad sign.