Dirty Scoundrel(38)

"Oh, that's bullshit," I explode. "You're the one using her!"

"Gentlemen, please," Alice the nurse says. "Let's not do this."

I wait for Nat to say somethin'. To defend me to her father. But she  just gets this helpless look on her face and gets to her feet. "I have  to go, Dad."

Well, at least she's choosin' to leave with me. I suppose that's  somethin'. Still kinda wish she'd put her dad in his place, though, and  told him that she loved me.

When she gets to my side, I pull her close and whisper in her ear. "Not  again, all right? He's doin' this to make you dance like a puppet on  strings. I ain't havin' it." Maybe I'm selfish, but I want Nat to  myself. "Long as we're in this contract, you're my assistant, not his."

She nods.



Natalie

NAT: I hated seeing that the house was almost finished, Lex. What's wrong with me?

LEXI: You're getting some good D and you don't want that to change? I don't see a problem with that.

NAT: It's my home, but every time I go back there, I start to feel  trapped. But Clay hasn't said that he wants me to stay, either.

NAT: I asked him if he wanted me to get on the pill the other day and he said there was no need.

LEXI: Ouch. So he's got an exit strategy. That's gonna leave a mark.

LEXI: There's this lady online that does Santeria if you send her some  Bitcoin. We could ask her to sacrifice a chicken to give him bad luck.

NAT: Be serious. I'm hurting here.

LEXI: Okay, sorry. :(

LEXI: I'm not good with the touchy-feely shit. You need someone to wear all black and glower in the shadows, I'm your girl.

LEXI: You need someone to stand at the back of the room and mock everyone normal, I'm your girl.

LEXI: You need a shoulder to cry on and I make Santeria jokes. Sorry.

NAT: I just . . . wish I knew where I stood.

LEXI: Ask him?

NAT: And say what? Hey, you know this contract we have? I really like  being with you and I'd be happy to stay even if you didn't pay me!         

     



 

LEXI: Works for me?

NAT: But that doesn't mean I can, you know? What about my dad? What  about the upkeep on the business? Everything costs money and that's the  one thing I don't have. I don't want Clay to think I'm staying with him  because I see him as a wallet.

LEXI: If only there was some way you could tell him how you really feel . . .

LEXI: Oh wait!

LEXI: How about you-wait for it-tell him HOW YOU REALLY FEEL.

NAT: Har de har.

NAT: I think I'm terrified of what he'll say.

NAT: Our contract is terminated at any time at his discretion, not mine.

NAT: What if I press him and he thinks I'm clingy and gold-digging and boots me out the door?

LEXI: Then . . . you have your answer?

I want to throw my phone across the room.

I hate that Lexi makes sense. She's basically telling me to be brave. To  tell Clay how I feel-that I'm in love again-even if it's fast. Even if  he isn't. Get it all off my chest so I can be at peace with however  things go between us. If it was just me? I would, I think. I'd do my  best to be strong and to sit Clay down and have a serious conversation  with him about where we're going.

As it is, I don't have any leverage in this relationship. I don't feel  like I'm the one that can make that conversation happen. I've got too  much baggage-my father, his failing business, my past with Clay where I  didn't believe in him. Things are different now, and I'm the one with my  hand out. I feel like no matter how I approach Clay with my true  feelings, it's going to seem calculating and suspicious.

If he'd just give me a hint of how he truly feels . . .

That's the thing with Clay, though. He's so good at hiding his feelings  behind a smile. He never lets anyone see what he's truly thinking. He  can hide his emotions better than anyone. Every time I've fished for  hints about our future, I've been met with zero emotion or turned away.

I feel like I should know the answer-that we don't have a future  together-and maybe I'm just being blind to it. All I need is a sign, I  tell myself.

Just one sign that Clay is coming to care for me again. We have great  sex and we enjoy being together. We're friends and fantastic sex  partners and . . . and I want more.

I don't know if Clay does.

So a sign from the universe would be great about now.



Clay and I are curled up on the couch the next day, watching House  Hunters. "Maybe you need a house like that," I tell him when a couple  rejects a lovely four-bedroom ranch because it doesn't have granite  countertops. "It's not that fussy. It's spacious, and way nicer than  your trailer, but not so big that you couldn't take care of it  yourself."

"Mmm." That's Clay's answer whenever he doesn't necessarily agree with  me, but doesn't want to contradict me. My legs are in his lap and he  begins to run a finger up and down the arch of one foot, tickling me as a  distraction.

"What?" I ask, giggling and trying to squirm out of his ticklish grip.

"What about my maid?"

I sputter. "You have a maid? In your trailer?"

"Well, yeah. You didn't think I was that tidy myself, did you?"

"I did," I protest. "I mean, who has a maid and lives in a single-wide?"

"Me." Clay grins.

"You'd be better off with a house. And you can afford one. Even the one on TV is a huge upgrade to what you have."

"Mmm."

"Don't ‘mmm' me," I tease. "What's wrong with that house?"

"You heard them," he says, nodding at the TV. "No granite countertops."

I snort. "Dude, you live in a trailer right now. And you can't exactly live in this hotel forever."

"Couldn't we?" he asks, a lazy grin on his face.

I stare at him, not sure if I need to interpret that "we" as something  other than what it is. Did he misspeak? Or does he mean he's thinking  about the both of us in the future?

At that moment, my phone rings. Frustrated, I grab it and leap off of  the couch, because I recognize the number-it's Alice. Clay's phone rings  a scant second later, and he frowns at the screen before picking up the  call. "What is it?"

I turn the TV off and tuck the phone against my shoulder as I answer it,  trotting out into the hall to get a little privacy. I don't want Clay  overhearing the conversation about my dad, because I don't know how it's  going to go. He gets really touchy when it comes to Dad. Ever since my  visit the other day, he bristles at any mention of my father. It makes  things awkward. "Hello?" I say softly. "This is Natalie."         

     



 

"Natalie? Oh good. I'm glad I caught you." She sounds a little stressed.

"What's up?" I shut the door to the suite behind me and pace down the hall in the hotel, barefoot.

"It's your father. He's having a really bad day today." She pauses, and for a moment, I can hear soft sounds of crying.

My heart squeezes. "Is that him?"

"Yes. He's been like that for hours. He doesn't recognize anyone, and he keeps looking for a Janelle. Do you know who that is?"

"It's my mom," I murmur. "She died when I was five."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He must have loved her very much."

"I think he did." Sometimes I think Janelle was the only one he did  love. I know a lot of the time it feels like Dad tolerates me rather  than cares for me. And then I feel like that's a terrible thing to  think, so I push the thought away. It's likely due to the age  difference, I tell myself. By the time I was born he was sixty-two and  didn't know how to handle a young child. At that age, the only thing he  knew to do with women under twenty was date them. Which is also gross to  think about, and not helping the situation. "He's had these spells  before. It takes a while, but he'll eventually calm down."

"He's worked himself up quite a bit, actually," Alice tells me. "I've  called in the night nurse but we can't get him to calm down and stop  crying. He's been hysterical all afternoon. I have a call out to his  doctor asking about possibly sedating him, but no one's gotten back to  me yet."

"It's that bad?" I ask, surprised. Alice normally seems so unruffled.

"Pretty bad," she admits. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to come by  tonight and see him? Maybe a familiar face would help shake him out of  it."

"I don't know," I begin.

I hear Dad's voice calling out in the distance. "Natalie? Are you  talking to my Natalie?" he demands of Alice. "Tell her I need her here!  Right now!"

Oh gosh. "I'll be there in an hour or so. I just need to let Mr. Price know."

"Thank you. The sooner the better."

I hang up. It takes me a moment to realize that Dad was aware that it  was me on the phone, and if that was the case, he can't be as lost in  his memories as he normally is. Strange. I don't know what to think-he's  faked before to try and get my attention, but the crying seemed  genuine. Either way, I don't think I can ignore it, not without a  bucket-load of guilt. I head back toward the suite I share with Clay. I  need to think of a way to phrase things that doesn't make it seem like  I'm abandoning him to go sit with my dad again. I am, but I want him to  feel like I'm not bailing out. That it's only for tonight. That I'm not  racing to my dad's side just to coddle him.