Brick by Brick (12 page)

“The man needs his privacy,” James said. “Maybe now I’ll be able to sleep.”

He was already gone by the time Gage came back to bed. “Take the middle,” I said quietly.

He didn’t argue. When he slipped past me, I smelled soap; he’d given himself a whore’s bath at the sink.

I wished James had. The room smelled of sweaty men and cum and dust and unwashed butt crack and maybe a trace of bathroom. Better to lie next to Gage and the masking scent of the cucumber-melon soap in the pump bottle.

He slept soon enough. I lay awake, mildly resentful of their sated slumber, long enough that it was silly of me. Finally I rose, grabbed a robe from the hook in the closet without caring whose it was, and crept from the room.

Chapter Fifteen

Cooling muffins and the flat plastic boxes I packed them in waited on the counter.

“Couldn’t sleep?” James selected a misshapen muffin while I poured his coffee, and pecked my cheek when he accepted the mug.

Gage stumbled into the room and sat at the table. “Morning,” he said. He’d put his shirt on inside out again.

I found another clean mug, the dinosaur one James deemed too silly, and poured Gage a cup.

“Someone’s not a morning person,” James said.

“I am when I have to be. If these are the hours you two keep, then these are my hours when I’m here. Natalie, is there any sugar? Don’t wait on me. Just tell me where to get it.”

“Canister’s out,” James said. “It’s the one that says ‘SUGAR.’”

I handed Gage a spoon. “Did you sleep?” I set muffins in boxes, twelve each. The crews would work out who got how many.

He stirred two spoons of sugar into his coffee and smiled even sweeter. “Yeah. Looks like you didn’t, though.”

“My crews love it when Nat can’t sleep.”

“It must happen a lot, if you’ve got boxes to transport them. Are there enough that I can have one?”

“Sure. As many as you want.”

“Ugly ones first,” James added.

The phone rang. James tilted back in his chair to pick it up. “Hello? No, we’re up. What’s going on?” He listened, the lightning bolt appearing between his brows. “I thought so. Get some rest, and call your doctor’s office when they open. I need you well more than I need you fast. Uh-huh. Listen, give me a call tonight so I can shuffle people around before tomorrow if I need to. Okay, take care of yourself. Tell Maria not to take any of your shit too.” He hung up.

“Manny’s sick?” I asked.

“I told him he didn’t look good enough to be back. He wasn’t.” James filled his big thermos, emptying the pot. “I could pull Ray off the steps rebuild, but if he shared a ride out with Carlos, I’ll have to drive him. And pick him up, I guess, in time to get him back by quitting time. There goes a man-hour. Fuck. Or pull Carlos too. If Manny’s not there and Carlos isn’t either, we’ll be behind in two days, maybe only one. Fuck! I need this Rincon thing to go perfect and on time.”

“Here, these are ready.” I followed him to the carport, clutching my robe so it couldn’t blow open before I could set the muffin boxes in the truck’s cab.

“I’m sorry to run out like this. Are you okay with Gage?”

“I guess.”

“Just tell him to go home when you’ve had enough.” James grinned, then kissed me, feeling me up right in the carport. I batted his hands away. What if the neighbors saw?

Only Mrs. Webb’s lights were on this early, and she often left everything ablaze overnight.

“Not enough of that.” James grinned, cocking one eyebrow. “That’s only for when I’m there too.”

“Of course. I love you, handsome.”

He smiled. He really was as handsome to me as Gage was to everyone. “Love you too.” He got into the truck, which coughed but started on the second try, backed down the gravel driveway a few feet, and stopped, cranking his window down.

I walked down the driveway so his raised voice wouldn’t wake our sleeping neighbors. “What?”

“I’m getting low on sunscreen. I have enough for today, but I’ll need it for tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll get some. Bye, babe.”

Inside, Gage stood at the kitchen window overlooking the carport.

“He didn’t even say good-bye,” he said.

“He has a lot on his mind.”

“I know. But still. No. Never mind. I’m making something out of nothing. Is it okay if I make more coffee?”

* * * *

Two cups of coffee and a shower later, I felt fine, although I knew I’d pay for my sleeplessness later with a bad mood, possibly a headache.

Gage had turned a chair backward at the dining room table and sat astride it like a junior high student, his Levi’ed bottom not touching it. He waved at me as he talked on a cell phone. “Uh-huh, but you know they’ll go for it. I know, I know; I was there. Listen, it’s not whether you’re uncomfortable with it; it’s whether you even fucking try. You want to keep your client happy, that’s what you’ll do. Yeah, tell the Don it was business, ha-ha. We’re good, but I gotta go. I’ll call tomorrow or the next day, see how it went. Later.”

“Trouble?” I asked. Who welcomed a call at this hour?

“Business as usual.” Gage tilted his head left, then right, stretching muscles that probably tensed during that phone call. “My agent’s been dodging my calls at his office, so I got him at home, even though I hated waking up his wife. He doesn’t want to go to bat for me on something, which probably means he’s negotiating with the same studio for one of his bigger clients. He’ll fold on what I want to get the other guy what he wants.”

“I won’t pretend to know how any of that works.”

“The business end is soulless and boring. I thought I’d take a shower, then we’d go bed shopping, if that’s all right.”

“I set out green towels for you and a new toothbrush.”

“I think I like Chez Bedwell a lot better than my hotel. Not that I’m inviting myself to stay here. The plan is to drop you off after we find a bed, not park my ass at your house. What a relief, huh?”

“I do have things I have to do.”

“So do I. First of which is a shower. And if there’s time, I need a drugstore. There’s not one near the hotel. Maybe you can direct me.”

“Sure. I need to get something anyway.”

Gage’s speed surprised me, first in the shower, then behind the wheel. It took him a while to notice my unease.

“Sorry.” He backed off the gas. “I haven’t driven my car in a while.” His wicked grin creased the corners of his eyes in a way the camera never caught.

“How many speeding tickets have you had?”

“In Arizona? One.” He laughed. “Don’t ask me about California.” He spotted the furniture store before I could tell him it was coming up, and turned in faster than I would have.

I’d never been in Dulces Sueños before, and at the first price tag, I knew why. That bed wouldn’t give me sweet dreams but nightmares.

Prices didn’t faze Gage; he ignored the tags. How liberating, to be able to buy whatever you liked best without factoring in the cost.

A salesman in his twenties approached us, his smile broadening when he got close. “Good morning, Mr. Strickland. Miss.”

Gage’s expression soured. “Hi.”

“We’re looking for a bed with a sturdy frame,” I said.

“Certainly. Let me recommend some of our finer things.” He led us from one four-digit price tag to another, rhapsodic about each possibility, quick to dismiss them when Gage showed no enthusiasm. Was his fame the reason for the service that made me uneasy, or did high-end stores fawn over everyone?

Soon an older man joined us, rubbing his hands together like a fly. “I’m the owner, Gage. Is my boy treating you right? Maybe not. This is one ugly bed. We can do better.”

“They’re specifically after a good strong frame,” the salesman said to his boss, then turned to us. “This may be utilitarian, but it can take hard use.”

The owner’s diamond pinkie ring winked at Gage. “Hard use, I see.” He winked at me, with the eye on the side away from Gage.

The young salesman saw it, though. He looked angry for an instant before the professional salesman mask reasserted itself.

The owner mentally undressed me so boldly that I knew what items he removed when. He put one hand on Gage’s shoulder, another on the bedpost. “Believe me, Gage, you can do better.”

My heart sped up in a rush of helpless adrenaline. Cynthia would call him on it, but she was a New Yorker, at ease with confrontation. I was only me. Meek little Natalie Bedwell disgusted me as much as the owner did.

“Let’s go,” Gage said, the disdain in his voice clear. “We don’t need you looking at her like a piece of meat, or any of this double entendre shit.”

“But, Gage! We can find you a bed that can take anything. I can order something reinforced for you and your big tiger here.”

A vein in Gage’s forehead throbbed. He grasped my upper arm and marched me toward the door, exactly the way my mother had so many times when she thought I’d behaved badly. I half trotted to keep up with his longer legs.

Our salesman dashed to place himself in front of us. “My apologies, on the store’s behalf. We’ve been entirely unprofessional.” He glared past us at the older man.

Gage jerked one thumb toward the owner, who stood watching at a distance. “He has. Are you on commission?”

“Yes, sir, I am. We have a large inventory, and if you’ll forgive me my awkwardness, I’m sure I can help you find something you’ll be pleased to own for years and years. This really is the best selection in the area, by far. We carry some of the finest beds available anywhere. You wouldn’t do any better in Los Angeles or New York.”

“All right,” Gage said, grudgingly.

“Thank you. We know you want something solidly built. Is there a wood to be matched, or a style to coordinate with?”

“Show me something as far away from him as we can get.”

In a distant part of the showroom, the salesman confided, “I really am sorry about the way he acted. He’s my uncle, and he’s incredibly rude to our more attractive shoppers. ‘Big tiger’ was pretty classy, for him. Usually it’s a smaller feline, if you get my drift.”

I did. “I bet a lot of customers walk out.”

“A lot of employees too. Every time I quit, my dad talks to him. Uncle Charlie swears he’ll do better and gives me a raise. He tries for a while, but in the end, nothing changes.”

When he smiled, Gage’s mouth really was too wide for his narrow jaw. “Family, what can you do?”

“Take the money, for now. And give you a price on whatever you pick that will leave him no profit at all, once my commission comes out. For good will, I’ll throw in two eiderdown pillows too. They retail for one thirty a pop. Plus two gel foams, which go for ninety. Good enough? Now, this bed is tubular steel with brass finials on the posts. It may be the strongest one we carry, but not much in terms of style.”

We found it soon after, although we looked at a dozen more before returning to the graceful wrought-iron lattice intertwined with leaves, traced with the green patina of artificial age. After that, we just lay on one mattress after another until we agreed we both liked the same one. Gage got up, and I barely felt it.

“What do you think, Natalie, this in a king?”

“There’s only a queen there now.”

“I know. But there’s room. Wouldn’t you and James like to spread out?”

“I guess. How much more is the king?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s my treat. A belated wedding gift,” he added for the salesman’s benefit.

“I see.”

“Nat, could you do me a favor and find my sunglasses?” Gage held the Porsche keys out.

“Now?”

“Please.”

“Sure.” By the time I returned, sweating profusely, to report they weren’t there, he’d paid and was shaking the salesman’s hand.

On the other side of the store, the owner beamed his approval.

Chapter Sixteen

“So did I do okay?” Gage started the engine’s throaty purr.

“Picking the bed, fine. But you didn’t have to send me on a pretend errand so I wouldn’t see the total.”

“I never know what to do about money, you know? I want to be generous, but I don’t want to show off.” He backed out of the parking space too fast.

“It’s like those restaurants where only the guy’s menu has the prices. I’m not supposed to worry my pretty little head about it. Don’t treat me like that again, all right?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Turn right at the exit. There’s a drugstore down the street.”

He drove without saying anything for a mile or so. “It’s so fucking hard, figuring out the rules for every new person. I’m glad you said something instead of letting me keep fucking up.”

“You can stop beating yourself up over it. There’s the drugstore, on the left.”

He turned sharply, zipping ahead of oncoming traffic I’d have let pass, and pulled into a parking place well away from the other cars. Gage groped under his seat, fishing up the purple Suns cap I’d found in the futile sunglasses search. “How much time do you need?”

“I don’t know. Ten, fifteen minutes.” James’s sunscreen, and another box of condoms, and while I was there I might as well get contact-lens cleaner and body wash.

“Okay, I need to restock a little anyway. See you at the register in fifteen. But don’t talk to me. Two people talking draws a lot more attention than two people just waiting their turn. Meet me back here.”

“Okay. I shop here all the time. Do you need me to help you find anything?”

“No. Go ahead. I’ll wait a minute, so we don’t go in at the same time.”

Finding what I needed took only a few minutes, so I surreptitiously watched Gage as I browsed, finding a few things to add to my shopping basket. He kept his head down and stayed close to the shelves, not giving anyone a reason to glance at his face.

My lotion was on sale, so I bought two and, as an afterthought, a boxed tube of Preparation H for Gage.

His plastic shopping basket on the floor, Gage read the labels on several packages in the painkiller row before picking one; when he bent to pick it up, he stood with one hand pressed to his lower back.

Naturally, there was a flurry of activity at the registers when it was time to pay. He stood silent, studying his feet, his face all but covered by the Suns cap and his selections by a
Time
magazine. He moved with shuffling steps as he neared the register.