Messalina: Devourer of Men (13 page)

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Authors: Zetta Brown

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BOOK: Messalina: Devourer of Men
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            He can now add me to his list. I try not to frown but I’m not feeling too clever at the moment. I’m either a carefree spirit or a gullible little shit. Right now, I can’t tell which. Suddenly, a sultry grin spreads across Talley’s lips as our waiter appears at our side. He smiles.

            “Get you ladies a refill?”

            “You can fill me to the top, baby doll,” Talley purrs with a voice so full of innuendo an alley cat would have to think twice before jumping on that proposition. “And get my friend here another Long Island iced tea.”

            As the waiter walks away, she licks her lips.

            “Mmm, that boy’s ass is tucked into those khakis
tight
. Give me a youngblood anytime. Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyway, Jared could always express himself through his art. You’ve seen his work, haven’t you?”

            “A little,” I reply weakly.

            “Have you seen his nudes? They will knock you on your ass.”

            “I bet they would.” I look away, embarrassed. Our drinks arrive. “So, high school was a pain,” I comment before sipping my tea.

            “Was it ever. Like I said, Jared wasn’t adopted permanently until he almost finished high school. Ma and Pa Petrie did that. They have five natural kids, but had more fosters coming and going than CPS.” She shakes her head. “Talk about people with a whole lotta love. If I didn’t think I was overstepping my place, I’d take you out to meet them. But I’ll let Jared do that.”

            She winks and I purse my lips together. She’s giving me too much information and too much credit. Although helpful, I’m not sure if all these inferences to my budding relationship with Jared make me feel better. She’s counting her chickens before sperm and egg have collided, let alone hatched. But I guess it’s to be expected since he did bring me all this way.

            “Eva, I’m gonna give you my armchair, pop-psych analysis of Jared.” Her hands look soft and elegant as she brandishes her cigarette, reminding me of a glamour queen from the 1940s.

 “Jared’s life in foster care has made him distrustful. He doesn’t like being this way and he won’t admit it, but he is. So, to protect himself, he works like a madman on crack and doesn’t let anyone get too close. The man is never tired. I dare you or anyone to try to keep up with him. He is always working on several things at once.”

            I believe it. Jared must have had less than five hours sleep last night, and who knows when he last slept before that.

            “He may look cool and collected on the outside, but he’s very,
very
impatient. His philosophy is that you never know where you’re going to be tomorrow—and he should know. My advice to you, baby girl, is that it’s better to get to the point with him and cut the crap. And it better be the truth.” She points her cigarette at me and its burning tip reminds me of a smoking gun. Her steel-blue eyes level on me and, for a moment, I wonder if she really does like me or is just being polite.

            “It’s all about trust with Jared.” She adds and takes a drag on her cigarette. “It surprises me how he always ends up with these high-maintenance, phony bitches.  I can’t see how he stands it.”

            I smile but get more ill at ease. I haven’t experienced Jared’s distrust or temper in full flow and not sure if I want to. His impatience, yes, but I wonder how long I’ll be around to see it all for myself.

“Why are you telling me this, Talley?”

            “Because I like you. You don’t seem to be the type of man-eater Jared saddles himself with. Don’t get me wrong,” she says, giving me the once-over, “I’m not saying that you couldn’t attract a following.” She grins.

            I feel a blush rise to my cheeks.

            “But then again, I don’t sense that you’re the type to use a man for what you can get.”

            I smile out of politeness. It’s true, but my head is reeling. Jared and I are here on a whim driven by hormones. I shouldn’t place more meaning in that, no matter what Talley infers or what I suspect. The major part of this equation, Jared, is missing—and I failed math.

            She looks at her watch. “Hell! It’s pushing two o’clock and he said he’d be back by four. Finish up, Eva. We have to hit the streets.”

 

* * * *

           

            Talley and I are loud as we drive the last hundred yards to her house. I even sit on the car door, holding onto the headrest while waving with my free arm. Jared is already there and leaning against the Chrysler Pacifica he rented.           

            She speeds into the drive and comes to a screeching halt inches from the Pacifica’s rear fender and gives a holler. “Say, hey, chèr! Look here at baby girl!”

I swing my legs over the side and get out of the car. My fashion sense has changed considerably since the last time Jared laid eyes on me. I began the day with a nautical theme; now I wear a Dallas Stars home jersey. The black, white, gold, and green of the jersey clashes with my navy-blue pedal pushers and the red, white, and blue of my Texas Rangers ball cap. Grinning, Jared comes near and I model for him. He whistles.

            “I see you girls had fun today.”

            “Yeah, we did,” Talley answers getting out of the car. 

            “Aw, look at you,” I say, reaching up to stroke his face. “Been working hard?”

            He takes off my sunglasses and I blink at the sudden change in brightness. His soft lips against my eyelids muffle his laugh. “You’re so cute,” he says and his lips make their way to mine for a moment. He steps back. “I’m gonna have to take you back to the hotel to change for dinner.”

            “Nonsense!” Talley says. “Eva’s just full of the Spirit of Texas.”

            Jared gives his pal an arched look, but I look at him with concern and wonder if Talley sees it like I do. Maybe she should rethink her theory about his stamina.

            “You’re tired. You haven’t slept much since we’ve been here.”

            “See, I knew it.”

            I blow off Talley’s remark with a brusque wave. Then, as if to play on my affections, Jared wraps his arms around my waist, lays his head on my shoulder, and sighs.

            “Aw, poor baby. Talley, we’ll catch you later.” I lead him to the car. He tries to protest when I aim him towards the passenger seat.

            “You don’t have the keys,” he says.

            “Don’t I?”

            When I produce the keys I slipped out of his back pocket, both he and Talley whistle in unison.

            “Damn, she is
good
. Go ’head on, girl. Take him back to the hotel and you minister to him.”

            Jared shakes his head in defeat as we get into the car. Talley calls after us as we drive away.

            “Ya’ll be back here by eight! I got reservations!”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

“Wild Night”

 

 

            We meet Talley at the appointed time feeling refreshed but hungry and go uptown to Javier’s, a gourmet Mexican restaurant. Sitting in a booth towards the back, Talley tells Jared about our day, but I’m more interested in hearing about his.

            “But Eva,” she complains.

            “Talley, I was there. He doesn’t need to know how bad you trashed him or how many men got my phone number.” I take a bite of my
Filete Cantinflas
. My flesh has gotten good at sensing Jared’s penetrating gaze on me and this moment is no exception.

            “Oh, all right. Jared, how did your precious little meeting go?”

            He sighs. “I’m doing another gig for PsyTech.”

            Talley puts her fork down in disgust. “Hell, man, why don’t you just take the plunge and sign on permanently? It’ll get you back to Dallas where you belong.”

            “What’s PsyTech?” I ask.

            Jared chuckles and gives my knee a squeeze. “PsyTech specializes in some of the finest computer graphic work in the nation.”

            “If not the world,” adds Talley.

            “They’ve worked with the film studio out in Las Calinas on the other side of town and with studios in Hollywood.”

            “So what are they having you do?” I ask before Talley can.

            “I’ve been commissioned to do some work on a full-length feature.”

            “Don’t they have someone on their staff to do that?”

            “You’d think,” he says with a snort and takes a sip of scotch.

            “Sure they have someone, but Jared’s the best,” Talley says. “They’ve been courting him for over a year. He won’t give in.”

            “Let ’em court. My price keeps going up and they keep paying. If I was that important, they’d make me an offer allowing me to maintain the lifestyle and freedom to which I’ve become accustomed.” He stretches languidly and laughs. “Even then I might not give in.”

            “A lifestyle that can afford a suite at the Anatole for a week?”

            Jared toasts his friend. “Exactly.”

            “Well, you go, boy,” I say, feeling like I need to contribute to the conversation. He smiles at me.

            “Hey, you two, stop it. Don’t be getting all hot and horny and leaving me to go clubbing alone.”

            “Talley, I only got Eva for one more night,” he says, stroking my thigh. “I want to give her a night to remember.”

            “So do I.”

            “Yeah, I bet.” He laughs. “I’m a bit nervous at how chummy ya’ll have got after one day.”

            “Serves you right.” I hit his arm. “Letting me believe you and Talley had this grand passion only to discover it lasted two weeks.”

            “I never said it was a grand passion.”

            “You never said it wasn’t, either.”

            “Hear! Hear!” Talley raises her glass. “You’ve been giving the girl grief, Jared. I won’t have it.”

            He shakes his head and sighs, not bothering to rise to the banter Talley and I present. Looking at him, I catch a flicker of an expression I can’t quite identify. Weariness? Uneasiness? Whatever it is, he’s not his usual charismatic self. If anything, he seems distracted. I give the hand he rests on my thigh a squeeze.

            “Are you OK?” My words snap him out of his reverie and when he looks at me, it takes a moment for his eyes to focus. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? You seem out of it.”

            He shakes his head and leers. “We’re gonna rip it up tonight, sugar—in more ways than one.”

            I push him away and they laugh at me.

            “You’re just so proper, aren’t you?” Talley says.

 

* * * *

 

            After dinner Talley drives us downtown. I sit in the front seat as Jared lounges in the back. The top is down allowing us to absorb the Dallas nightlife, humidity and all. When I recognize the pink and purple pig sign for Baker’s Ribs, suddenly, the surroundings become familiar. We are in Deep Ellum.

            “Hey, I was down here yesterday!”

            Unlike my daytime visit, the night has brought out all the freaks despite the heat. I start looking around like a tourist on speed. I can’t sit still. Most of them look young and barely legal. We come to an intersection and let a group of four kids, dressed in black with asymmetrical hairdos obscuring their eyes, skulk across the street.

            “Now, I know they’re out past curfew.” I snicker. “Look at ’em. Thinking they’re so original.”

            Talley continues cruising down the busy street at a worm’s pace, pausing for pedestrians and other cars while I provide a running commentary.

            “Ooh! I smell bacon, I see pork! Howdy, officer!” I wave at a bicycle cop and he returns the wave. Actually, he’s signaling for a right turn.

            I’m having a blast. I haven’t experienced anything like it in Colorado in years. Not since they banned cruising down Colfax Avenue and stopped the Mall Crawl in Boulder. I feel like a kid again—immature, if not irresponsible.

            Talley turns down a street appropriately named Crowdus. We inch along with bodies, cars, and music from various clubs pouring out into the street. It is a sensory overload.

            And we garner attention gliding along in Talley’s luminous Impala. Talley and I trade catcalls with pedestrians and have conversations with other motorists while waiting at stoplights. At the corner of Elm and Good-Latimer, we agree to hook up with another carload of people at one of the bars and Talley sets about the task of finding a parking place.   I turn around to see Jared stretched out all comfortable in the backseat. He’s watching me with an amused look on his face.

            “Having fun, baby doll?” he yells above the noise.

            “Yes!” I twist around in my seat to get a better look from behind. He moves forward to rest his arms on the back of our headrests. I grin. “I know what you’re thinking.”

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