Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) (23 page)

“You do?”

“Yes, I’ve already figured it out.”

Blair is about to ask her what exactly she’s figured out, but then sees how Fiona is pointing down at the bedding Road folded and stacked. Of course, Blair had to refold it.
Not a single corner matched.
He may as well just have wadded it into a ball, which is probably what he did.

“Marital problems?” Fiona smiles with perfect white teeth, though they’re obviously as sharp as knives.

Blair doesn’t get a chance to respond because there’s the sound of a key in the door.
Thank God.

Road enters and stops for a second when he sees all the luggage piled in the entryway. His expression hardens. “Jesus Christ, Fiona!” He steps around the suitcases, comes toward them and drops his backpack on a kitchen chair. “I told you not to come.”

Fiona only smiles. She gets up from the couch and saunters over. “Nathan, I’m here because you need me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Fiona stands next to him, and she’s almost as tall as he is in her heels. Her voice softens. “I’m here for you.”

Road’s face is still hard, but Blair is mostly staring at Fiona. Her skin is pale and luminous, her tawny eyes have a slight tilt at the corners, and her full lips are a perfect cherry red. As much as Blair hates to admit it, Fiona is one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen.

But this is good. Very good. See? Because now I know what I’m up against and how hopeless anything with Road really is.

In truth, Blair is mystified why Road isn’t more pleased to see her. Fiona is seriously gorgeous, and she’s high-class Skank Factor X.

They broke the mold when they made this one.

“Let’s go speak in private,” Fiona purrs, shooting Blair a bitchy look.

Road rolls his eyes, grabs his backpack, and stalks off toward the office with Fiona happily trailing behind him, heels clicking away.

And that’s that.

Blair goes ahead and finishes the iced latte she started for herself earlier, wishing she could put her ear to the door to hear what they’re saying. Though it turns out she doesn’t have to, because Fiona starts yelling almost right away.

“I’m not
leaving!
I traveled three thousand miles!”

She hears Road’s low rumble, but can’t tell what he’s saying.
Probably telling her to stop yelling.
Ironically, for all the shrill women he’s dated, Road is surprisingly cool-headed and rarely loses his temper.

“My
God
, don’t tell me you’re on track. You need my help! Why do you think I’m
here?!
”

More low rumbling.

“That’s got nothing to do with it!” Fiona shrieks.

Blair can’t help but laugh a little.
He’s got his hands full with this one, that’s for sure.

But then Blair thinks about that kiss she and Road shared a few days ago, and her laughter dies. Imagines him kissing Fiona like that, looking at Fiona the same way he looked at her. The thought makes her stomach hurt, and she puts her iced coffee down.

Her building intercom buzzes and when Blair goes to answer it, she discovers Tori is downstairs. Blair presses the button to let her in, surprised by how late it’s gotten.

By now, Road and Fiona have come out of his office. Neither of them look very happy. When Fiona sees the coffee Blair is drinking, she gawks at her.

“I hope you made one for me!”

“Um . . .”

“You
didn’t
, did you?”

There’s a knock at the door and Blair goes to let Tori inside, happy to escape Fiona’s withering glare.

“What’s all this?” Tori asks when she sees Fiona, who’s still pouting about the coffee.

“This is Fiona,” Blair tells Tori pointedly. “She’s here for Road.”

Tori’s brows shoot up. “Fiona? Oh, hi, we’ve spoken on the phone a couple times. I do some work for the website.” She puts her hand out.

Fiona’s bitchy expression clears. “Tori? Oh, yes, the sister, right? Hello, it’s nice to meet you in person,” she says politely, shaking hands.

Tori smiles, and Blair is mystified why these two would have spoken on the phone and why they’re shaking hands.

“
Who
are you exactly?” Blair asks Fiona, trying to figure this out.

“Road hired her,” Tori says, answering for Fiona. “What’s your job title again?”

“I’m a media and marketing specialist,” Fiona says in an officious voice.

“Really?” Blair asks.

Fiona nods as she shoots Road an exasperated look. “I’m here to help with the new book. Clearly, he’s stalled.”

“I don’t need your help with the goddamn book,” Road says, his jaw tight. “And as I keep telling you, I’m not stalled.”

Fiona rolls her eyes. “Artists. You think I’d be more used to them by now.”

“Are you two going out somewhere?” Road asks, looking over at Tori and Blair.

“We’re going to a gallery event for Blair’s mom tonight,” Tori tells Road. “In fact, why don’t you guys come with us? The more the merrier, right, Blair?”

“Uh, Tori, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” But nobody seems to be paying attention to Blair, because Fiona is clapping her hands.

“A gallery event? Fantastic! I
live
for gallery events! Is this a painter?”

“Yes, it is.” Tori nods.

“Perfect!”

Road seems to have his doubts, too, but between Tori’s prodding and Fiona’s harassment, he’s convinced to go, as well.

Blair doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow the four of them wind up in Isadora, heading toward downtown Seattle to attend her mom’s event. Naturally, Road is driving. She reached for the keys, but the expression on his face made her back off. It’s clear he isn’t putting up with any nonsense tonight. Blair takes the passenger seat, while Tori and Fiona sit in back.

Fiona makes them stop at a Starbucks drive-thru on the way there and takes ten years to order the most complicated drink Blair has ever heard, yelling it over Road’s shoulder at least three times. And then, when she finally gets her coffee, she complains they got it wrong.

“Baristas are
all
idiots,” Fiona tells them in her accusing voice.

Only when you order something impossible.

Fiona may be working for Road and not be his girlfriend, but Blair is convinced Fiona has a romantic interest in him.
I mean, why would she travel all this way? To help with his book?
I’ll bet there’s more to it than that.

Once they get downtown and head toward Pioneer Square, Blair instructs Road on where her mom’s gallery is, so he parks in a garage about a block up the street.

“How quaint,” Fiona says, as they all get out and walk through one of the oldest parts of the city past a group of derelict winos. “Seattle is very quaint, isn’t it? Even these bums are quaint.”

Nobody responds, not even Tori, who strangely seems to like Fiona. Not that this stops Fiona from chattering endlessly. She comments on every single thing, flitting back and forth between utter inanity and breathtaking bitchiness.

Blair can honestly say she’s never met anyone as bizarre as Fiona. She even criticized Isadora, calling her a ‘jalopy’ and refusing to get inside her until it was made clear this was the only ride.

She’d better not say anything mean about my mom’s cacti.

Blair knows her mom’s paintings are odd, what with the whole penis thing, but if Fiona makes one rude comment, Blair is going to let her have it.

Once they arrive at the gallery—which is very crowded, so her mom must be thrilled—Blair discovers she needn’t have worried. Fiona takes one look at the paintings and declares them brilliant.

“Oh, my fucking
God
!” Fiona’s eyes sweep around the room, taking in as much as she can. “These are genius! Your mother is the artist? Seriously? Amazing!”

Fiona raves about them so much, Blair watches her closely, trying to decide if she’s being sarcastic. Strangely, she appears sincere.

Blair glances over at Tori who’s already cringing with embarrassment. “I hope there’s wine,” Tori says. “There’s wine, isn’t there? Please?”

Blair laughs and directs her toward the far wall. “There’s usually lots of wine. Go help yourself.”

Road is checking out all the paintings with raised brows and a stunned expression. When his eyes meet hers, he grins. “Damn, babe.”

“They’re cacti.”

“Sure they are.”

Their eyes linger on each other, and Blair’s stomach takes a dip. It hadn’t occurred to her how she might feel being with Road in a room full of paintings like this.

Her face warms. Despite everything, she and Road did once share something intimate between them.

“Which one is your mother?” Fiona wants to know. “
Who?
”

Blair looks around, then finally points through the crowd, when she sees her mom. “Over there, with the dark green dress. Her hair is the same color as mine.”

“I see her!” And then Fiona rushes off, leaving her and Road alone.

“Where did Tori go?” he asks.

“To get wine and hide in the bathroom until it’s time to leave.”

Road nods, his eyes still on hers, and he doesn’t seem to want to look away. “You look pretty tonight. I like the scarf.”

Blair’s blushes at the compliment.
Am I going to spend the whole night in a constant blush?
Maybe I should go join Tori in the bathroom.

“Thank you,” she says, trying not to let his compliment go to her head. After all, she could never compete with someone like Fiona.

“I didn’t know your mom painted.”

“Yes, she started after she took early retirement,” Blair says. “So, I take it Fiona showing up here was a surprise?”

His expression changes. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“And she works for you?”

“She sought me out at a blogger’s conference in London last year.”

“Is this typical for her to fly three thousand miles wanting to help?”

He shrugs. “Who can tell with Fiona? Knows her stuff, though—she’s good. Really helped get my book noticed.”

Blair nods and takes a deep breath. “I finally read
Edge of Zen
,” she admits. “I checked out your blog, too.” She tries to keep it light, not admitting the actual truth which is that she scoured the web and read everything by and about him she could find.

His eyes were on a painting in the corner, a large purple cactus with three small red ones beside it, but they cut to her now.

“You’re a very good writer,” she tells him.

He doesn’t reply right away. “Think so?”

“Yes, I do. I was stunned.” Blair decides to be completely honest. “Your book was an absolute pleasure to read. You have a unique style. I never knew you wrote at all.”

Road shrugs. “It’s nothing much.”

Blair watches him and is surprised by his humility. It occurs to her that he’s not as arrogant as he used to be. “You’re an artist,” she says, realizing it’s the same thing he said to her about her cakes.

“Thanks.” He motions behind her. “Think Fiona has your mother trapped.”

Blair turns to see Fiona talking animatedly with her mom, while her mom watches in a daze. “I should probably go over and rescue her.” Not that her mom can’t take care of herself, because she certainly can. “I need to say hello. Do you want to come with me?”

Road shifts uncomfortably. “You go on ahead.”

She studies him. “Is everything okay?”

He tries to smile, but then lowers his voice. “Look, Blair, I know your parents hate me.”

She blinks.

“It’s okay.” He lets out his breath. “Can’t say I blame them.”

Blair opens her mouth but doesn’t know what to say, because he’s right.
My parents do hate him.

“Probably shouldn’t have come tonight, though there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He gives her an embarrassed grin. “Except maybe avoid them.”

She reflects on the situation and finds herself wishing she could make this right somehow, not even sure why she feels this way. The facts haven’t changed, after all. Road left her after barely four months together, and now he’s taking Isadora.

It’s because I’m so in love with him. It clouds everything.

But somehow, Blair isn’t convinced that’s the whole reason. Strangely, a part of her is starting to see how things with Road are not as simple as they appear.

“All right, I’m going to say hello. There’s wine on the back table, and beer, too,” she says, remembering how he isn’t much of a wine drinker.

“Okay, good to know.”

Blair heads over to her mom, though she doesn’t see any sign of Fiona anymore. She spots Tori, a glass in her hand, talking to a guy. A cute one, from what Blair can tell.

“Blair,” her mom says, putting her arm out to hug her. “Honey, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“This is quite a turn-out.” Blair takes in the rich scent of Coco Chanel, her mom’s favorite fragrance.

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

“The gallery must have done a great job getting the word out.”

Blair’s dad comes over with a small plate of food and she hugs him, too. “Are Scott and Ian here? I haven’t seen them.”

“Ian couldn’t make it, but Scott’s here. He brought Ashley and they’re around somewhere,” her father says, popping an hors d’oeuvre into his mouth. These gallery events weren’t really her dad’s thing, and he typically ate non-stop the whole time.

She talks to her parents for a little while as people occasionally interrupt to congratulate her mom on the show.

Blair is always amazed how well people respond to her mom’s paintings. With the exception of Tori and herself, nobody else seems embarrassed by them.

“Did you really come here with Road?” her mom asks, taking a sip from her wine. Her dad just left to get more food.

Blair tries to act casual. Her parents don’t know he’s staying with her, and probably won’t be too pleased when they find out. “Tori invited him at the last minute.”

“Because the strangest woman approached me a little while ago. She said she arrived here with you and Road and claims she’s some kind of marketing specialist who works with him. Is that right?”

“Fiona,” Blair groans. “I’m sorry about that.”

Her mom is nodding, but also seems puzzled. “Why does Road need a marketing specialist?”