Tara Sivec - Shame on Me

Well, it’s a good thing we’re not taking Interstate 69 home, then, since there is currently one of me at mile marker seventy-two modeling a bathing suit for Victoria’s Secret.

I laugh uncomfortably as I watch him drink his coffee. I can’t do this anymore. I want to be honest with him. He’s poured his heart out to me and I sit here and continue to lie to him. He needs to know where I work, and he needs to know that I know everything about Melanie.

“Matt, I need to tell you—”

“Paige, what the hell is going on?”

Jerking my hand away from Matt’s, I stare up in shock at Andy standing next to our table, staring down at us with an annoyed look on his face. He’s wearing his usual work attire: a black suit with an interchangeable shirt and tie in various colors. He’s wearing blue right now, so it must be Friday. Andy is the most anal person I’ve ever met, but something is going on with him. He’s a hot mess right now. Instead of his typical clean-cut, perfectly pressed appearance, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, or if he has, he’s slept in his clothes. He’s a wrinkled disaster and I have never seen him with so much facial hair. He was always meticulous about shaving every single morning.

“Andy? What are you doing here?” I demand.

“I didn’t like how our last conversation ended. You didn’t answer my calls this afternoon and I got worried,” he explains, with a dirty look at Matt.

“So you followed me? Are you insane? GO HOME, Andy.”

Andy ignores me and continues to stare at Matt. “Who are you?”

Matt looks back and forth between us before sliding out of his seat and standing up in front of Andy.

How did I ever think that the two of them were anything alike? Seeing the two of them side by side, the differences are glaringly obvious. Andy is short, whiny, and annoying. Matt is easily five inches taller than he is, and working in an office all day hasn’t diminished his intimidation skills in the least. I watch in awe as Matt stares Andy down and Andy visibly shrinks into himself and takes a step back.

“My name’s Matt, and I’m a friend of Paige’s. I think it would be best if you do as she says and go home,” he tells Andy in a calm voice.

Andy gets a sudden second wind of self-confidence and puffs out his chest, stepping around Matt and up to my side. “Look, I talked to Penny again. She said you still have plenty of time to say yes to the InStyle photo shoot. The mag has even upped their original offer—a hundred and fifty grand and the promise of the cover. It’s their anniversary issue and they really want you for it.”

Pushing myself up out of the bench seat, I get right into Andy’s face. “I already told you this earlier. I’m not doing this just to pay off your debt. I’m done modeling, Andy. Get that through your head.”

Andy crosses his arms over his chest and huffs at me. “You’re being childish, Paige. You’re one of the top models in the entire country. You’ve been in every fucking magazine they print in the US and CoverGirl wants you to do another commercial. You don’t just up and quit something like that for some silly pipe dream of being a private investigator.”

“Shut up, Andy. Shut up right now,” I warn him, refusing to look over at Matt.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Matt tells Andy through clenched teeth as he steps in between us.

Luckily, the waitress rushes over to check on us before I pick up my fork from the table and stab it into Andy’s smug face.

“Is everything okay here? Do I need to get the manager?” she asks, glancing back and forth between the three of us.

“Oh no, there’s no need for that. Everything is fine. He was just leaving,” I state, staring angrily at Andy.

Andy huffs and turns away from me to look at Matt. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She’s never going to amount to anything at that stupid, man-hating Fool Me Once Investigations. The only thing she’s good for is sitting there and looking pretty.”

Andy barely finishes his tirade before Matt’s fist connects with his face. Andy’s head whips back with the force of the blow, and he immediately starts screaming like a girl.

“OH, MY GOD! I THINK YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

Andy is bent over at the waist, holding both of his hands over his nose as the blood drips down his fingers and onto the floor by his feet.

“Get the fuck out of here before I break something else of yours,” Matt growls at him.

I’m pretty sure my underwear just spontaneously combusted.

Andy finally gets the hint and scurries out of the restaurant without another word, whimpering the entire way out the door. After he’s gone, Matt turns around to face me.

“I think I should probably tell you, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I admit to him.

“Stop. Just . . . stop.”

I shut my mouth and quickly realize that now is not the time for jokes. Even if I’m not joking at all. I really want to throw him down on the ground and rip his clothes off.

“A little modeling? You must think I’m a complete idiot,” Matt says softly.

I shake my head frantically back and forth. “No! It’s nothing like that, I swear.”

“You HAVE been following me, haven’t you? Jesus Christ, is anything about you even true? Did Melanie hire you?”

He waits for me to argue, but I have nothing to say. Not one word.

“She did, didn’t she? Fuck! This entire time, you’ve been playing me for a fool. I really am an idiot,” he mutters angrily.

“Matt, please. Just let me explain,” I plead.

“I think I’ve had enough explanations for one night. Tell my ex I hope she enjoys the company.”

Matt turns and storms out of the restaurant, slamming the door open so hard it bangs against the outside of the building.

“So, you ready for the check now?” the waitress deadpans.

I flop down into the booth and stare longingly out the front door.

Well, so much for this night ending with another amazing kiss.

On Sunday morning, there’s a knock at my door and I contemplate ignoring it. I haven’t showered in two days. I’m facedown on my couch, where I’ve been since I got home Friday night. At least I changed out of my dress when I got home that night. Too bad I haven’t changed out of the Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and tank top I put on after I ripped off my dress and threw it in the trash. I feel gross. But I deserve to feel gross. I suck.

There’s another knock at the door, this one louder than the first. I don’t even lift my head from the cushion or move my body. They’ll go away eventually.

“PAIGE McCARTY, OPEN UP THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I’M GOING TO KICK IT DOWN!” Kennedy yells.

Shit. Kennedy will never go away. And she really will kick my door down. I’ve seen her do it before.

With a sigh, I push myself up from the couch and shuffle my feet over to the door, opening it up while Kennedy continues to pound on it with her fist.

“Jesus Christ, you look like shit,” Kennedy tells me as she pushes her way into my condo.

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine this morning,” I deadpan as I close the door behind her and go right back to my previous position on the couch.

I know why she’s here. Aside from the fact that I’ve been ignoring her since Friday night, I’m positive that Matt called the office and filled her in on what a lying bitch I am. She’s probably here to fire me. I’m an ex-model and now an ex-almost-private investigator. I’m washed up. A has-been. They’re going to do an E! True Hollywood Story on me and it’s going to be depressing.

“Care to tell me why you haven’t answered my or Lorelei’s calls in the past two days?” Kennedy asks.

“Don’t feel bad about firing me. I already know I screwed up,” I mumble into the couch.

“Drph feem brph amerph frmy meh. Eh affreffy mow eh srphed upff” is what Kennedy hears.

Kennedy’s hand slides under my face and she lifts my head up off of the cushion. “You want to try that again? I don’t speak couch cushion.”

I sigh, pushing myself up, and move to the middle, flopping back down on my butt this time. I repeat the part about firing me.

Kennedy stares down at me. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I fire you?”

Either she has no clue what I’m referring to, or she’s just messing with me. I wouldn’t put it past her. Maybe she wants me to die a slow, painful death of humiliation.

“You know, the whole Matt Russo thing,” I add, fishing for clues that she knows what I’ve done.

Kennedy shakes her head at me in annoyance. “So you haven’t been able to catch the bastard cheating yet. It’s not that big of a deal, Paige. Just give it time.”

Oh, my God. He didn’t call and tell her everything. Wait. Why didn’t he call and tell her everything?

“I know I’m not hip to fashion like you are, but you do know you’re wearing Hello Kitty pants, right?” she asks, staring down at my legs.

“Did you just say ‘hip to fashion’? What are you, ninety?”

“Oh, fuck off. Get your ass up and take a shower. Do you want to . . . go shoe shopping or something?” Kennedy asks, visibly wincing when she says the word “shopping.”

“Awww, it’s so sweet that you would do that just to make me feel better,” I tell her with a smile. “There’s a sale at Nordstrom today and I want to swing by a few salons so we can interview new stylists, since ours became a drug runner. We should also get you some new lingerie to make Griffin happy, and there’s this black dress I want your opinion on at Express.”

I watch the horror come over her face with each and every word I say, and I feel a little less sorry for myself as I tease her.

“Wipe that look off your face. Like I’d really put you through all that torture in one day,” I tell her.

“Thank Christ.”

Now that she sees I’m still alive and not planning on forcing her to shop with me all day, Kennedy turns and heads for the door. “Lorelei said you might have gotten a few photos the other night that you think aren’t good enough to nail Matt. Upload them onto my computer when you get to the office tomorrow and I’ll take a look.”

Well, shit. Now I really AM going to cry. Lorelei didn’t rat me out to Kennedy either. Now I just need to think of a way to “lose” those photos and find out who this Vinnie guy is before Kennedy realizes I have completely violated the contract she signed with Melanie. Knowing that gold-digging whore, she’ll come back and sue us too.

* * *

“So, I know you didn’t just ask me to lunch because you miss me. What’s the real reason I’m here?” Ted asks me.

Ted was recently promoted to detective with the South Bend Police Department after he assisted Kennedy in bringing down one of the biggest drug rings in Indiana a few weeks ago. He mostly works with the DEA, but I know he’s got the inside scoop on pretty much every criminal in this state.

“Of course I miss you. I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages,” I lie.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Paige. What are you up to and does Kennedy know about it?” he asks.

I bristle at his comment that Kennedy needs to know everything I’m doing. Once again, people misjudge my ability to get anything done on my own.

“I’m working on my own case and no, Kennedy doesn’t know about it. Not yet. I want to get some more concrete information before I go to her.”

The lies are just flowing right off my tongue these days.

“Don’t you just handle office work and stuff?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not an idiot. I do have a brain, and every once in a while, I like to use it,” I reply cockily.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I just want to make sure you’re being safe. My sister has a lot of experience taking down bad guys and even she was an idiot with how she handled things a few weeks ago.”

“I’m not taking down any bad guys, I promise. I just need information on one,” I admit.

“You swear you aren’t going to go off half-cocked like she did and go to some nut job’s house alone?” Ted asks.

I raise my right hand. “I swear.”

Ted sighs and shakes his head at me. “Fine. Give me his name.”

I lift up my knife and fork and begin cutting up my salad. “His name is Vinnie and he might be some sort of Mob boss.”

Ted doesn’t answer me and I stop my cutting to look up at him. He’s staring at me with his mouth open. “What?”

“Tell me you aren’t talking about Vinnie DeMarco.”