Burning Down the Spouse Part 9

Okay, so now would be a really good time to run for cover. Hide beneath her shame like the sissy-Mary she'd become these past six and a half months.

Yet neither her legs nor her desire to avoid public punishment would cooperate.

Sad-so sad, Frankie. Who are you, sister, and when the h.e.l.l did you trade in your spine for hush money?

"You know what else they say, Chloe?" a voice called from behind her on a chilly burst of air. "They say waitresses are nosy b.i.t.c.hes with no lives. Until you, I might have begged to differ."

A hand with red fingernails attached to it planted itself on Frankie's shaking shoulder. A sultry voice whispered in her ear, "You can stand up for yourself any time now, Frankie. I know you're not afraid to. I've seen you in action with a wire whisk, among other kitchen accoutrements."

Jasmine.

Despite Jasmine's encouragement, Frankie's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth like it'd been tarred in place. Whatever was up Chloe's a.s.s wouldn't be pulled out by her razor-sharp wit at the rate she was going. "But Chloe didn't cheat on me like Mitch did. Anger has its degrees and all," Frankie whispered back, grateful for the musky scent of Jasmine's perfume and her warming presence at her side.

Chloe's face went from sly to sour in seconds. "Oh, look. It's Jasmine. Here to pick up another free round of coffee for your strippers so they won't fall asleep on their poles?"

Jasmine chuckled, as though she relished swooping in for Chloe's kill. Crossing her arms over her buxom chest, she purred, "No, kitten. I'm here for lunch. Now go be a good food service engineer and bring Jasmine some water-with a slice of lemon in it while I decide what I want you to serve me, please. Don't blow it now. I just shot a wad of big words at you, and I know you confuse easily, but your tip depends on you getting it right."

Me-ow.

Chloe's face turned several shades of an unattractive red before she scurried off to the kitchen, and Ralph made a stunned beeline for the door without a backward glance.

Frankie's mouth fell open.

Jasmine chucked her under the chin with a hearty chuckle. "Now that's how you put a little viper like Chloe in her place. Next time, speak up, Frankie. What she did was cruel and unfair."

Frankie's breath shuddered out on an exhale. "Thank you. I-I-"

Jasmine shrugged her shoulders before removing her coat and laying it on the stool at the counter. "You need to find your tongue is what you need to do, and don't be silly. No thanks necessary. Any chance I get to shoot down that conniving b.i.t.c.h makes it a beautiful day in the neighborhood."

"Obviously," Frankie commented, unsure if she should pry into the reasons Jasmine so disliked Chloe.

Sliding onto a stool, Jasmine patted the one next to her. "It's a long story, but there's no love lost between Chloe and me. That's all that you need to know. Oh, and that she's a jealous busybody. That's always good to keep in mind. Now sit with me. Do you have time for a break?"

Frankie frowned, pus.h.i.+ng up the sleeves of her bulky sweater. "I might have time for a forever break if Nikos is still around. Do they hire older women at Fluffy's? I bet if I put on a couple of pounds what I lack in b.o.o.bage I can make up for in sparkling personality."

Jasmine's giggle lightened Frankie's mood. "What happened?"

"I can't get into it now. Suffice it to say, I might be practicing my pole-dancing skills on the nearest lamppost if I don't get back to the kitchen, but I promise to spill another time."

"You free for dinner?"

Frankie snorted. "That was a joke, right?"

"A joke?"

"I live in a senior citizens's retirement village with my Aunt Gail, Jasmine. You don't have pressing engagements when you're in bed by eight. Well, unless there's a Match Game marathon. Then it's on. So yes, I'm about as free as unwanted advice and bird watching from a park bench where the homeless gather."

Jasmine smiled, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. "Good. Then let's have dinner. Anywhere in particular?"

"Anywhere but here," Frankie said on a laugh.

"Welllllll, look who decided to work today," Nikos said from the kitchen doorway, his muscled forearm holding the door open. "Did you get your mani-pedi all taken care of? I hope you didn't forget that facial. I wouldn't want you to have clogged pores or anything on account of me and my grueling requirements for eight solid hours of your precious time."

"G.o.d, even when he's an a.s.shole, he's beautiful," Jasmine whispered with a grin.

"If only that weren't the truth," Frankie said back in hushed tones. "Gotta go, but I'll call you later and we'll make arrangements to meet." She ducked under Nikos's arm, sticking her tongue out at him just before she did.

Exactly when her b.a.l.l.s had decided to make an appearance, she was unsure. Though, they would've been much more helpful if they'd shown up when Chloe was in attack mode.

Nikos was right behind her, stalking her like so much prey. "So, princess, what held you up this morning? Shoe shopping?"

Whirling on him, Frankie poked a finger in his chest. The t.i.tle "boss" flew right out the window hot on the heels of her common sense. "I told you what happened, Nikos. I read the schedule just yesterday and it said one thirty. Not ten. So while I realize you probably think my fifth-grade reading skills can be attributed to some sort of confusion in my pretty, pampered head, I know what I saw."

Nikos yanked the schedule from his back pocket, holding it up so she could indeed see it said ten.

Which was a b.i.t.c.h of a conundrum, but still it wasn't the same schedule she saw yesterday.

Stomping to the far end of the kitchen, she tore her ap.r.o.n off its hook. "I don't care what that says. I know what I saw yesterday." Frankie pulled a gleaming knife from the block and held it up, cornering him and his d.a.m.ned schedule. "And you'd better lay off the snide remarks about pedicures and facials. I couldn't afford a facial right now if I sold my soul to the devil, and you know it-which is why I'm working here with a beast like you for a boss. To remind me of those luxuries, and my lack thereof, is petty and preschool-ish. Now bring me a ten-pound bag of onions to chop. Nay, bring me two so I can make up for my spur-of-the-moment morning shopping spree!"

Nikos caught her by surprise when he laughed with total abandon, the cords of sinew along his neck strained. "Wow. That was nice."

The anger she'd spewed evaporated at his smile. d.a.m.n him and his smile. And his brawny body. Oh, and his stupidly sick rippling thighs. "Did it make you feel bad?"

"Not until you hit 'preschool-ish.' " He gave his chest a light-fisted punch. "That cut deep."

Now Frankie grinned up at him. "Good. You deserved it. You could have given me the benefit of the doubt, you know. I've been on time every day for two weeks, and I do all your dirty work for eight, sometimes ten solid hours six days a week. I really did read the schedule and it really did say one thirty-yesterday."

His eyes caught hers, pinning her. "You're right. I should have asked before I jumped down your throat. Sometimes we Antonakases forget the word 'communication' exists for a reason. We get excited first and ask questions later. Apology accepted?"

Her breathing slowed as he hovered over her. She caught her breath when Nikos lifted a thumb to swipe at the corner of her mouth. "Toothpaste," he muttered, but his finger didn't move when he was done wiping. Instead, it lingered in all its deliciousness.

"I didn't have time to rinse, you tyrant," she muttered back, hoping to hold on to her grudge, yet caught up in a strange trance they both couldn't look away from. Her heart began an erratic pattern of starting and stopping in jolts to her chest.

Nikos's chest rose and fell, too, in choppy breaths. "I did apologize," he said without a trace of antagonism. Though his reminder was slow, measured, and said with distinct distraction as his eyes followed her darting tongue gliding over her lips in nervousness.

Frankie swallowed on a hard gulp, using all her will to suppress the urge to capture Nikos's finger between her lips. "You did."

"Now you accept and we move forward. It's nice workplace etiquette," he muttered, the spot where his thumb rested burning beneath his finger.

Frankie found she didn't want him to remove his thumb-ever. "But you were pretty mean. I don't know if I can forgive and forget. I am known for my awesome ability to lose control. If I were you, I'd tread lightly," she teased with a flirtatious edge to her tone.

Whoa.

Frankie Bennett was flirting. Better still, it felt good.

Heh.

Nikos let his other arm rest on the wall above her head when he leaned toward her, amus.e.m.e.nt streaking his olive black eyes. "I'm not afraid of you and your wooden spoon of doom."

Frankie giggled. "I hear it was pretty psych-ward worthy."

Nikos wiggled his eyebrows. "You mean you haven't seen it?"

"Not the whole thing-no. Just the stills the tabloids splashed all over the front pages, and a snippet or two on TV. I don't remember much of it either. It was like I was possessed."

"All you needed was a good pea-soup spew. It was probably the best beat down I've ever seen, bar none."

His approval made her want to bask in the glory of his sun, even if she was basking for all the wrong, totally inappropriate reasons. "No one would have ever expected that kind of reaction to anything by quiet-as-a-church-mouse Frankie Bennett. I surprised even me. I don't know where that came from."

"From a place I imagine was a little sick and tired. Cheating's a c.r.a.ppy thing to do. It makes people do things they didn't think they were capable of."

Was that understanding from one cheated upon to the other? At the mention of Mitch's infidelity, the spell Nikos held her under was broken. Frankie sobered. The painful reminder that she wasn't enough for Mitch, despite the fact that in hindsight, he hadn't been enough for her for a long time, was still raw. "Yes. It was a c.r.a.ppy thing to do. Something I decidedly plan to avoid for, like, ever."

Yet Nikos didn't seem to be suffering the same effects of the moment's end she was. "Do you still love Mitch, Frankie?"

When he said her name like that, all interested and with a tender hint to it, she wanted to give in to her foolish impulses and melt against him. But his question was one she was still sorting through. What had she loved about Mitch to begin with? His physical presence never made her heart skip a beat the way Nikos's did. Looking back, there wasn't a particular time she could remember feeling cherished by him or needed for anything other than her ability to manage him to within an inch of his disorganized life. "I haven't given it much thought . . . But if forced to answer, no-I . . ."

"You're still sorting it all out. I get it."

How could he possibly understand her relations.h.i.+p with Mitch and the kind of heartbreak he'd created? Who'd ever dump Nikos so heinously that he'd know the sort of pain Mitch's infidelity wrought from deep within her? "Do you?"

He smiled, a smile that reached his warm eyes. "I do."

"Hey!" Cosmos stuck his head between the two of them. "Uh, I hate to interrupt, but Frankie? You got a phone call while you were catching up on your beauty sleep."

Frankie narrowed her eyes at Cosmos, ducking out from under Nikos's arm. "I was not, I repeat, I was not sleeping in like some diva!" she yelped, pointing the knife she still held in Cosmos's direction.

Nikos cleared his throat. "Lay off her, Cos. It was just a mistake." He winked when Frankie shot him a grateful smile, leaving her insides slushy.

Cosmos raised an eyebrow with a cynical lift to it. "Right. Whatever. Anyway, like I said. You got a phone call."

Who'd call her at the diner? Who even cared she was alive besides Aunt Gail? The tabloids had turned into a bunch of slackers the moment a new a.s.s to chew had appeared. She hadn't had a call from anyone in, at last count, two months. "Who called?"

Cosmos didn't look her directly in the eye. Instead, his gaze strayed to Nikos.

"Well?" she almost demanded, her stomach finding that old familiar discomfort it'd grown so content with. It was something bad. It was always something bad as of late.

Cosmos's sigh was reluctant, his words short. "Mitch called, Frankie. It was Mitch."

Superfly.

CHAPTER SIX.

From the "maybe even a little less reluctant than I was last entry" journal of ex-trophy wife Frankie Bennett: Maxine says it's crucial to create your own new life from the inside out. After your divorce, you're supposed to make it a point to experience new things, create new routines, get out and see the world, and let the world see you and your brand-new att.i.tude. I went. I saw-the world, that is. I think my world is far better viewed from the confines of my cave. But no one, especially that hippy-skippy Maxine, can say I didn't try.

"If I was you, brother, I'd walk away now," Cosmos advised with a slap of his hand to Nikos's back.

"What am I walking away from?" he asked, keeping his head buried in the possible menu changes to avoid a glimpse of Cosmos.

"Don't bulls.h.i.+t me, Nik. I saw the way you were looking at Frankie today when you had her cornered-but what you didn't see, because you're as blind as the proverbial bat, was the way she looked when I told her her ex-husband called. You know why you didn't see it? Because you're not paying attention to the signs. Instead, you're making a checklist of things to do to save her. Do I really need to remind you of Anita?"

Nikos's shoulders bunched. No one needed to remind him he was the biggest a.s.s where Anita was concerned. "I don't need to be reminded." He wasn't in the mood for the speech from Cosmos tonight. He'd rather be p.i.s.sed off about Frankie's reaction to Mitch's phone call. A reaction he never expected after she'd just told him she didn't love the p.r.i.c.k anymore. A reaction he shouldn't give a world of c.r.a.p about, but found himself angry over nonetheless.

"Let it go, Cos."

"Fine. Just remember, I was the one who reminded you about your love of a chick who's hard up."

"Who is hard?" Voula asked, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n.

Nikos shot Cos a glare. "No one, Mama."

Voula pinched Cosmos's cheeks. "I hear that bad Mitch call today for our Frankie. You didn't tell her, did you?"

Cosmos let his head hang to his chest. "I did, Mama."

Voula scowled. "Next time you give Mama the phone. She will take care of the Mitch and his kitchen. Frankie looks better since she is here. She eats my meatloaf almost every day for lunch, and she smiles sometimes. I like this. That bad Mitch will only make her sad again. We don't want her to landslide, do we?"

"Backslide, Mama. And no, we don't want her to backslide," Nikos rea.s.sured her.

"Then if he calls again, Cosmos, you tell him we don't have no Frankies here, okay?"

Cosmos nodded with a sidelong glance at Nikos. "Done."

"Nikos? Did you tell Frankie about Marco and his bad wife?"

Nikos winced. No. He hadn't told Frankie about Marco. "Doesn't she have enough on her plate, Mama?"

"Her plate will break if she is caught with the surprise, Nikos."

"You don't really think Carrie will show up here ever again, do you? I don't think we should worry about it, and we definitely shouldn't add anything else to Frankie's troubles."

Voula wagged a finger at him. "I don't like the secrets, Nikos. And what about Marco? When he comes back from his trip, he will meet our Frankie. I don't want to see him sad again, Nikos."

A stab of guilt for his best friend and the heartbreak he'd suffered when his marriage went to s.h.i.+t made Nikos's gut twist. "How about we talk about this another time, Mama. You go home and have dinner with Papa."

Cosmos intercepted Voula, saving his brother. "C'mon, Mama, I'll take you home. You've been on your feet too long today."

Voula frowned when she removed her ap.r.o.n. "I like tired feet better than I like your cranky Papa."

Both brothers laughed. "It'll pa.s.s, Mama. He just needs to find other interests," Nikos said, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Cosmos threw his jacket on, giving Nikos one last pointed look. "Mark my words, brother," he warned.