Jet went back to the kitchen
and waited at the sink while Spense washed his hands. He washed up
too and helped Alma carry plates and bowls to the table. Spense
offered, but Alma had him open the wine and pour it. Once everything
was on the table, they sat down and Jet offered blessing over the
meal. He didn't care about that nicety, but it pleased his sister.
Alma served the chicken,
giving the men a larger portion than herself. They passed the side
dishes and dug in. Spense immediately complimented Alma's cooking.
They discussed food for a few minutes, until the conversation seemed
to peter out.
Jet cleared his throat as he
wiped his lips. “I met someone interesting today,” he said
casually.
“Really? Anyone I'd know,”
Alma asked.
“She's a bit of a
celebrity—Callista Saucier.”
Alma looked at him blankly.
Spense nearly choked on his wine.
“Seriously? I love her
movies. Where?” Spense asked.
“We did a cable install at
her house. She's just moved into a yellow Victorian on beachside.”
“I know that house. It's
not far from where my folks live. Sweet location.”
“Yeah, it's pretty nice.
I'm taking her sightseeing tomorrow.”
“Dude!” Spense held up
his knuckles.
Jet tapped his hand,
grinning. Alma watched the two men share what she called a man
moment.
“So, is she nice?” she
asked her brother.
“Very nice. Not what you'd
expect from someone who wrote all that twisted stuff.”
Alma shrugged, shaking her
head.
“She writes screenplays,”
Spense explained. “Horror, mostly, but I hear she's been
commissioned to handle an historical romance. Is that true?” He
seemed to take Jet as authority on all things Callista related.
“She mentioned that today.
She wasn't at all what I expected. She was so—normal. The shit on
the screen, it's twisted. What kind of mind thinks of stuff like
that? I had her fleshed out like a female Stephen King, but she's a
cute little thing.”
“Little thing?” Alma
took offense at the remark. “A cute little thing? Since when
do you describe a woman like that?”
“Give it a rest, Cujo.
Every woman I meet is a little thing. Shit, a good portion of
the men are too. You try being my size for a day. Your perspective
would change.” He spooned more mashed potatoes on his plate. “She's
hot, okay? Heart stopping gorgeous. Smart and funny and. . . .”
“And homeboy's nuts are
turning a fine shade of blue,” Spense finished for him.
They tapped knuckles again,
laughing.
Alma dropped her fork,
eyeing her brother and boyfriend balefully. Arms crossed, she glared
at them. It took a moment for the men to realize she was angry. They
stopped laughing and waited for the inevitable explosion.
“So, she's a cute little
thing who's so hot, she's heart stopping gorgeous. Oh, smart and
funny too. Anything else? Does she have big tits?” She motioned in
front of her own ample cleavage.
Jet pressed his lips
together. Tilting his head, he considered a moment. “Yeah. Nice and
plump—real. No bra,” he said to Spense. Rasing a provocative
eyebrow.
Alma's boyfriend barely
acknowledged Jet's comment. It had been designed to get under Alma's
skin and it had succeeded too well. She looked ready to explode.
“You're unbelievable,”
she yelled. “Talking about a woman like that! How dare you?”
Jet inhaled deeply, waiting
for her to finish yelling. It took a couple minutes. Meanwhile, he
continued to eat. Spense sat with his fork halfway to his mouth, jaw
dropped, looking from one to the other like a tennis match.
Eventually, Alma paused for breath.
“Finished?” Jet asked.
“Not even!”
He held up his hand. “Before
we continue this wonderfully enlightening discussion into my
character can I say something?”
Alma shrugged, tossing her
hair over her shoulder.
“When have I ever
seriously described a woman like that? Did you listen to how I said
it or just what I said? Callista is beautiful. She's got a great
figure and she wasn't wearing a bra. She's also one of the smartest
women I've ever met. She happens to be a very talented writer. If she
decides she wants to have sex with me, I won't say no. Happy now?”
“You're such a—guy!”
“Babe, sorry to tell you,
but we're not ashamed of that. Women act like we should be, but we're
not going to apologize for wanting to get laid,” Spense said.
“You're as bad as he is.”
Spense set his fork and
knife down, looking serious. “Yes—yes I am. I'm a guy who thinks
you're beautiful, talented, smart, funny and sexy. I want in your
pants so bad, I fantasize about it on an hourly basis. Does that make
me some kind of creep?”
Alma's eyes started
watering. Her expression changed from stony to smiling. “Really?
You think all that?”
“Yeah. So don't bust Jet's
balls for liking Callista. If he's attracted to her even half as much
as I am to you, he's lucky to still be breathing. Cause, babe, you
rob me of all reason.”
The two of them had eyes for
no one else. Jet decided to remove himself from the table. Taking his
plate, he went to the living room with his meal. He turned on the TV,
watching some show he didn't even know the name of. He finished his
meal and quietly put his plate in the sink. Alma and Spense sat at
the table, food forgotten, kissing.
Jet quietly gathered his
wallet and keys, heading out the side door where he could easily
swing around the back of the house to his car. His phone rang as he
started the car. It wasn't familiar, but he answered anyway.
To Buy Dellani's Books:
No comments:
Post a Comment