Lainey’s List Chapter Six
Lainey
“Lainey, I am sure he did not mean you were fat and ugly. I know for a fact Nick thinks you’re gorgeous. He’s asked you out a million times,” Charlie exclaims, after I tell her why I’ve agreed to go out with a stranger.
“I know what a slump buster is.” I’ve worked in that damn bar long enough to have heard every derogatory term a male could use in reference to a female. The car in front of me slows down without warning, and I mouth a silent curse as I slam on the brakes.
“First, Nick would never engage in that type of thing. And second, he’s never been in a slump. So obviously, he wouldn’t be hitting on you for that reason.” Charlie sighs. “Why do you dislike him so much? He’s really a good guy. And despite the fact that he doesn’t have a steady partner, he’s still a genuine, loving person.”
Swinging into the right-hand lane, I flash a one-fingered wave to the driver who is operating his vehicle like it’s his first time behind the wheel and speed down the off ramp into Houston proper.
“I know, I know,” I say placatingly, even though I don’t believe it. Charlie’s the sweetest person in the world. She’d try to see the good side of a serial killer. “Look, I’m sorry I brought it up. Anyway, Connie’s brother’s friend sounds nice. He’s gainfully employed and, if he’s a trainer, he’s probably got a body that’s worth taking a chance on. Good looking and employed don’t always go together.”
Charlie’s quiet for a moment. “I didn’t realize you were thinking about dating again. I mean… every time you’ve turned Nick down, you’ve said it was because you wanted to focus on Cassidy.”
“I did want to focus on Cassidy. When we met, I was working two jobs and seeing Cassidy only a few hours a day. Now, thanks to you, I only work this one job, and Cassidy and I have more time together than I’d hoped for.”
“I feel bad I’m making you go to Houston.” Charlie sounds unnaturally guilty but I guess it’s part of her make up. She’s too giving and has a hard time asking for help. Which is why, when I heard her stressing about having to pick up some exotic fish for a client’s new aquarium and having to go down to San Antonio to meet with a potential new client, I was glad to volunteer my help.
“This is part of my job and I’m grateful to have it. And Nick and Cassidy are probably having the time of their lives together.”
“She adores Nick,” Charlie agrees. “Unlike other women I know.”
“Cassidy’s too young to know better,” I respond pertly. The GPS guidance tells me to turn left and the destination will be on my right. “I’m almost at Stedman’s. Anything else you want me to pick up while I’m here?”
“No. Thank you.” She hesitates and I can almost see her bite her lower lip. “You really don’t have to deliver it for me.”
“Charlie,” I say with exaggerated patience, “I’m here. I’m picking up the fish. I’m delivering the fish. You go get new clients so your business makes lots more money.”
She laughs. “Okay. Love you, Lainey.”
“Love you too, Charlotte.”
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“I’m going to kill that girl,” I mutter under my breath as the manager to Stedman’s Exotics brings out the styrofoam coolers containing eight bags of exotic fish.
“I thought maybe Mr. Jackson would come himself.” The manager’s round face is full of disappointment. “I suppose what with the season starting and all, he doesn’t have time to come down to Houston. My kid’s a big fan. Don’t tell anyone though. We’re supposed to support the Texans around here.”
“You have my word.” I flick my finger cross ways across my chest, although I don’t know quite who he thinks I’ll be telling.
“Great. Great.” He sets the second cooler in the back of my hatchback and whips out a sheaf of papers. “These fish need to be transferred one at a time by acclimating the water in their current habitat to the new aquarium.”
“What does that entail?” I’ll drop these off, pick up my kid, and let Nick deal with this mess.
He shoves one of the papers into my hand. I scan the instructions as he hits the highlights. “An hour. You first insert the bagged fish into the tank for approximately thirty minutes so the water temperature stabilizes within the bag. Then open the bag, placing the tank water into the bag and let the water mix together for another thirty minutes.”
I fold the instructions and place them in my purse. “Sounds good. We can do that.”
“If you’ll sign here.” He flips the forms in front of me.
“I’ll be sure to give Mr. Jackson the instructions.”
The papers are dragged away.
“Wait, I didn’t sign.”
The manager sniffs in disapproval. “It’s your signature. You agree to the above tasks. Not Mr. Jackson, but you. It’s why we prefer the owner of the aquarium to come. These are very rare creatures and it’s extremely important to us to make sure our friends are going to good homes – homes of people who will take appropriate care of them. Perhaps…” he taps the papers against the table and I can see the idea forming in his head that he shouldn’t sell these to me. And I’m not going to be the one that Nick Jackson blames for not getting his “special fish.” Oh no.
“I swear to you, I will do all of the things.” I hold up my fingers, not sure if I’m doing the scout pledge or the Star Trek greeting. Fortunately, the manager must be as ignorant as I am.
He narrows his eyes and assesses my trustworthiness. “Including the thirty minute wait time between each fish,” he says slowly.
“Including the thirty minute wait time.”
“If you don’t, you could kill these fragile beings and cost Mr. Jackson thousands of dollars.”
I smile brightly and as benignly as possible. Why am I not surprised that Nick is buying thousand dollar fish? “Mr. Jackson is going to be so thrilled. Why don’t you give me a card and I’ll make sure that he sends you a signed photo.”
The manager beams back at me. I sign the papers quickly before he can change his mind.
“Could you have the photo made out to Joe? That’d be perfect.”
I look at his nametag. “I thought the photo was for your son.”
The manager, aka Joe, according to the tag on his shirt, flushes. “We have the same name.”
Sure you do. “No problem,” I reply blandly. I hold out my hand. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem.” He shakes it a little hard, as if he wants me to report back to Nick that Joe was a man’s man with a firm grip.
After telling me that braking hard could concuss the fish, I pull out of the lot making sure not to go more than a few miles an hour. I don’t want Joe running me down and ripping the fish out of the back of my trunk.
At the first stop sign, I call Charlie. “You’re a dead woman.”
“I told you that you didn’t have to do it.”
“You conveniently left out this errand was for Nick.”
“I said it was for a client,” she parries.
Harrumph.
“I don’t know why that would bother you,” she continues. “After all, you are immune to his charm, right?”
“Right,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “But, Charlotte, throwing us together could result in us hating each other instead of us enjoying this nice little truce.”
“Hmmm. You not talking to Nick, him baiting you, you saying scathing things back. Sure, that’s a real nice truce.”
“I blame this on you,” I tell her, as I carefully negotiate the Prius back onto the freeway. “If you didn’t live with Nick, you wouldn’t see any of those things that you claim bother you.”
“I can’t leave Nick by himself,” Charlie says. “We both know the guy would have a beer gut and gamers’ elbow from playing Fallout 4 way too long.”
Charlie’s casual mention of Nick’s video game addiction generates a painful twist in my chest. Someday, I’m going to move past that boy who made me fall in love with him at the age of fifteen. Someday, I’m going to forget him. Just like he forgot me.
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