Choke On Your Lies Part 16

But there was no way to turn back gracefully now. All because I was angry enough to accept help from one of the most awful people I'd ever met.

They were in the study, waiting for Octavia. Provost Carl and Frannie, neither dressed as formally as our host would've preferred, I supposed. Neither was I. Stephanie was there, too. She hugged herself and ignored my ex-wife, looking up when I walked into the room, her eyes a bit wide. Also there was Pamela, imposing in a melon-colored pantsuit. She stood in the middle of the room with a wine gla.s.s full of something dark, dark red. Hot in a "punish me, ma'am" sort of way, but it definitely kept everyone at arm's length.

Frannie sighed, low and rumbly, then said, "Jesus Christ." She wanted me to hear.

I didn't shake hands. Didn't greet anyone. Seemed no one else had either. All of us standing around, unwilling to ask, "What in the h.e.l.l is this all about?" like they do on a bad TV mystery show. Instead, we all hoped someone else would say it first.

Frannie covered her mouth with her hand and mumbled something to Carl, who said through his teeth, "I can't hear you." She tried again. He said, "Not now. It's fine."

Jennings entered the room with another man. I hadn't seen him before. Looked in great shape, a tight polo s.h.i.+rt over his chest, tucked into his khakis. Maybe in his early fifties. Hair mostly gone, what was left kept very short. Jennings asked him if he'd like a drink while waiting.

Whoever he was, he made Carl nervous. Frannie, too. They both t.i.ttered and hissed at each other, walked deeper into the room, farther from the rest of us.

The man looked like we were wasting his precious time, said no to a drink, then noticed Carl and Frances. He said, "Hey, actually, okay. Bourbon?"

"Neat?"

"No, on the rocks. Thanks."

Jennings went off to make the drink. The guy shoved his hands in his pockets, watched me watching him. "Can I help you?"

Then I knew. Don Moose, the s.e.x club's high-tech guy. The one I had sent Pamela after. I didn't expect he even existed, or would actually show up. I said, "No, sorry. I thought you were someone else."

I moved in Stephanie's direction, motioned to the seats in front of the desk, and we both sat down.

I asked her, "How are you doing?"

"I'm so glad you're here. I had no idea it was going to be...you know."

"Carl jumped me outside your house. After that, well. I'm tired of pretending everything's okay. It's not."

"But are you sure this is the right way? Isn't it risky?"

I reached over, squeezed her hand. "Who's got more to lose?"

Then Jennings spoke. "Excuse me, but if you could all follow me into the dining room, Miss VanderPlaats is waiting for you."

I winked at Stephanie as we stood. "Here we go."

We found ourselves at the entryway at exactly the same moment as Frannie and The Provost, us nodding curtly at each other. Frannie smiled at Stephanie, who was in no mood to smile back and apparently not much for faking it. I liked her even more for that. Fran drifted closer to me, arms folded across her chest.

"What exactly is all this about?"

I shrugged. "Sure she'll tell us."

"I refuse to walk into some sort of ambush. It's not fair, and you won't win."

I stepped around her, back to Stephanie's side. "Fine. Leave. Who gives a s.h.i.+t, Frances?"

She grabbed my arm. I stopped, and so did Stephanie and the Provost. I turned to Stephanie. "Go on, save me a seat."

She continued, along with the Provost, both looking a little startled by the Ralph Steadman prints on the wall. Like a real life house of horrors-crazed faces and eyeb.a.l.l.s and skulls and scribbled lines and and and, well, they weren't used to it.

Frannie said, "You f.u.c.king her now?"

"Really? You're going there?"

"Don't even-"

"The answer is no, not that you care. You're the one who slept with her husband."

She curled her lip. "Grow up."

"Seems to me I'm the adult. Kids take whatever they want, no consequences, and refuse responsibility. Then they want more and more, like, I don't know, say, the house?"

"Nice, impressive. You been practicing that little speech?"

I thumbed over my shoulder and took a step back, almost giddy with power. "Hey, I don't want to be rude to our host, so, if you're just trying to insult me-"

"Okay, wait, I'm sorry. Listen, Mick..." Trembling hands. She rubbed her palms together, then laid one on my chest. Whispered. "I'm sure we can work this out another way. There's no need for everyone to know our business."

So many comebacks to that line. So, so many. But which one would I choose? Which one would sting the most?

I heard some giggles and "Oh my G.o.d, you're kidding me" from the dining room, so they must've just then saw the Boteros.

Back to Frances, who was genuinely scared. I didn't know why, since she seemed to come out of the deal in the best shape. Or had her double-cross blackmail plan failed her? Without me, without the house, how could she continue to pull it off? That would make the Provost her safety net. I was watching as she only just realized.

I said, "I didn't want it like this. Maybe we can reign it in, but you'll need to do your part, too."

"I'm okay with that. Please, we can even use your lawyer. We can work this out fairly."

It wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind. "It doesn't even have to come to that. I've heard about some counselors. Not the usual type. I mean really good, honest, in-your-face counselors."

She closed her eyes. "No, Mick, no, I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to give you hope just now. We have to end it. We both see it's the only way. Come on, we've talked about it over and over-"

Then a shout from the dining room. The Provost. "No f.u.c.king way!"

Well, we had to go see. Stopped mid-sentence and took off down the hall and into the room where we found everyone watching Carl nearly growling at Octavia, finger up and stabbing the air in front of him.

Then I saw why. So did Frannie. She let out a quick shocked breath.

Alice was standing next to Octavia, looking much more peaceful than at our last encounter, but also ready for a naughty c.o.c.ktail party in a little black dress I'm sure Octavia kept around just in case pet.i.te drugged women guests needed to play dress up.

Carl said, "We're done. We're leaving and you'll be hearing from my lawyer. Whatever's going on, we'll find a way to make sure you pay for this. All of you"

From behind Octavia, Pamela said, "I know your lawyer. We used to go out."

Carl swung left and right, finger still stabbing. His face was glowing like it was on fire. I'd never seen him break his calm and collected mask before. When he found me in the room, he marched right up to my face. "You really thought you could make me look like an a.s.shole? Is that it?"

I caught a movement from the right, and then Jennings was beside me, ready to step in if Carl got out of hand. I kind of hoped he would, just to see how it would go down.

"You're done, too, mister. We'll find a way, but you are done with me, the school, and Fran."

Pamela shouted back, "Excuse me? Are you threatening my client?"

He ignored her and turned to Fran. "We're leaving now. We're leaving, right?"

She said, "Calm down."

"But we are leaving."

"We will, but obviously we've been invited for dinner. Let's find out what they have to say, first."

"Oh, I know what they have to say-"

"Good, good." It was Octavia, her volume matching Carl's, but with much more authority. "Then let's either skip right to it before you ruin the entree, too, or can we sit down and enjoy the meal? Let's not waste all of the hard work and fresh ingredients my chef has put into this, okay?"

Carl's mouth twitched and he swallowed hard. Frances slid between us and pressed him away from me. "Sweetie, let's eat and go, all right? No need to make threats or anything."

Poor guy looked confused, hurt, betrayed. Good, that made two of us. He said, "But they're just going to make us look stupid."

Frances spoke low, so I barely heard it, but she told him, "Honey, they've already done that. So let's not give them any more ammunition."

And he said, "What has this woman got on you?"

She urged Carl towards the table as Octavia announced, "All right, let's be seated and I'll have Harriet bring the first course, just a little amuse-bouche."

We all sat. I thought it strange that Alice had kept quiet this whole time. She didn't even change her expression. As I caught up to Stephanie and pulled out a chair for her, I noticed Octavia had taken Alice's hand and led her to the head of the table where she sat at our host's right hand. It was all funky. I hoped she hadn't lobotomized the poor woman and turned her into a s.e.x slave.

Then again, Octavia had never needed to go to such extremes. The force of her personality was hypnosis enough.

I tried to catch Jennings's eye, then Alice's, hoping one of them could at least wink or mouth It's all good, but they wouldn't even look at me-one too concerned with keeping an eye on Carl in case he went ballistic again, and the other too concerned with her silverware.

Then I glanced at Stephanie, who seemed the most ill at ease. She had her napkin balled in her fist on her lap. I slid my hand on top of hers. She relaxed a little. Then it struck me: Ashton wasn't here. How could Octavia make this work without Ashton?

Our genius bald computer guy Mr. Moose sat across from me, still sipping at his bourbon. His cheeks were tight, and when he looked in Carl's direction, I could tell there was a street brawl waiting to happen.

Then our first course was served.

From the mahi-mahi ceviche amuse-bouche through the wonderful summer squash soup and fresh-baked French bread, and then through the hard-to-do-justice-with-words entree of venison and sweet potato, Octavia found a way to turn on conversation by keeping one-hundred percent of our focus on the food. She spoke highly of Harriet, made sure to ask everyone at the table about some specific part of the meal and how it stacked up to meals from their past-grandma's cooking, the finest restaurant experience we've ever had, their last meal requests.

Not that it was easy. We all began in silence. Octavia spoke mainly to Alice, who answered very pleasantly, as if the two had always been friends.

Octavia said, "I don't know where she found them. Like it was just picked an hour ago. Almost makes me want to give her a garden out back."

"I had an aunt who was into gardening. I never believed her when she said fresh veggies tasted better, but I think I'm a convert-"

And so on, the rest of us starting our own conversations, whispering along until Octavia would b.u.t.t in to ask us how we liked the wine pairing.

While Octavia had a friendly argument with Frances about farm-raised versus wild seafood, Moose leaned across and whispered, "Do you know what this is?"

"Vaguely."

"I got a call from some lawyer telling me I should be here if I wanted to free myself from whatever the Provost had hanging over me. I don't know what she's talking about."

Sure, right. "Me neither."

"She call you?"

"I know the host. I went to high school with her."

He flicked his attention to Stephanie. "How about you?"

Said in a way that underscored that he already knew her. He'd seen her on the tapes, of course. Meaning Stephanie had never met Moose, but he'd watched her have s.e.x on video. Only then did I remember she had no idea who he was. I was seeing the game board from a different angle. Our after-dinner talk wasn't going to be pretty.

Stephanie smiled. "I hope we find out soon."

I could almost read her thoughts: Oh G.o.d, I bet I had s.e.x with him and can't remember it at all.

Moose shook his head, straightened in his chair. "I should've stayed home."

"But Mr. Moose," Octavia said, and I realized she'd heard every word, even while speaking to Frances. "Then this burden you've been carrying would have remained as heavy as Mr. Marley's ghostly chains, right? Don't you think confession is good for the soul?"

That got Carl going again. Seething. Rocking back and forth. "Come on, Fran, let's go."

Moose stared at his plate.

Octavia ignored Carl. "What I'm saying is, don't you have something to say to Carl?"

Just like that, as if it was a group therapy session. Carl actually rose from his chair, looked down the table at Moose, staring at his plate even more so.

Carl said, "Not a word, Dan."

Moose took a deep breath. "Well, s.h.i.+t, Carl. Do you really think it's so bad? It's just a f.u.c.king s.e.x tape. I think...yeah, I think I should just go home, tell my wife, and see what happens. Anything to stop throwing up every morning because I know I have to deal with you that day."

"Dan!"

Moose stood. The guy looked tough. "What? You want to fight me? You release my tape, that means it's as bad on Alice here, and Sh.e.l.lie, and Deb, and Toni, and their husbands as it is on me. What were you thinking? You thought forty-six different people could keep their mouths shut for the next twenty years?"

"Enough!" Carl pushed back and his chair fell to the floor. A loud crack. Jennings had a full night of gluing ahead of him, we could tell. "Ridiculous. You tricked me into coming here, and it's not fair."

Octavia laughed. "No, no, it's totally fair. You can all have your say until I'm ready to have mine. But until then, please. You have the floor."

He reached over for Fran's arm, tugged it. "Let's go."