Wrongful Accusations - Chapter 2
Drinking with the bestie
For the remainder of the day, I completed reports, returned phone calls, and responded to emails. I did have two Starbucks vanilla frappuccinos and a brownie, but by 5:30 I was exhausted and starving. I was in the mood for some company, but since Jerry was still working in prison visitation, I called my only female friend, Cole Slaw.
“Nicole Slawyer, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Cole, it’s Sassy, do you have dinner plans?”
“Not really, what do you have a taste for?”
I thought about it briefly, “How about Applebee’s? I’ve got a taste for a Mudslide or maybe a Whiskey Sour.”
Cole Slaw laughed, “Okay cool.”
“Do you think they still have those ribs with the Jack Daniels barbecue sauce?”
“That’s TGIF that has the Jack Daniels sauce. What’s wrong with you, did you have a bad day?”
“Yeah, I just started this new case and the lady I’m working for is kind of missing something upstairs. I think she rubbed off on me.”
“Well, if you want to get tipsy, we can go to On the Border, they have the best margaritas. I’ll be the designated driver.”
“Good, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll drop my car off at my apartment and you can pick me up from there.”
“Okay, call me when you get home.”
My Madison Ave office was about 10 minutes from my one-bedroom apartment. Choosing to fight the rush hour traffic coming from Downtown instead of playing chicken with the trolley, I headed down Poplar Ave and made a left on Dunlap and right onto Adams.
“Good evening, beautiful,” a male voice said as soon as I opened my car door.
“Hello, Neil, how are you this evening?” Neil lives in the apartment four doors away from mine.
“Will we be having dinner tonight? Or are you going to turn me down again?”
“Sorry, Neil, I already have plans,” I said, closing my apartment door behind me. I wouldn’t go out with that old dude if he had bought the last Crown Royal in the liquor store. The guy was older than the father I never knew so he wasn’t my type.
I called Cole to let her know I had made it home then I sat down and turned on the television. There was nothing interesting, so I accessed the recordings I had on the DVR. Real Chance was the most recent entry. Those are some sexy brothers if you want my opinion. Before I found out who would be eliminated this week, I heard Cole Slaw’s horn blow. She knew how much I hated that so she sent me a text message: “Bring your butt on before I leave you”. I laughed, grabbed my keys, and hit the power button on the remote. Thankfully, I had avoided Neil on my way down the stairs.
When we arrived at On the Border, about twenty people were waiting to be seated so we opted to sit at the bar.
“Let me have the peach margarita, it’s still two for one time isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am, and what will you be having, Ms?” he said, turning to Cole.
“I’ll have sweet tea; I’m driving the drunk home.”
My elbow found its way into the side of Cole’s ribs; she yelped and hit me on my arm. “So what’s bugging you, Sassy?”
“You know the lady I told you about, Shannon? She’s accused of murdering her daughter’s father but she says she didn’t do it.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yeah, I think I do, but I have to figure out who did it. My debit card is on her boyfriend, Pearce. He’s kind of quiet but I think he loves her enough to keep her from getting so much grief from her ex.”
“Doesn’t he know that you would find out if he killed the guy or not? Why would he agree to hire a PI?”
“She seems like the one in charge in that relationship, I think he’ll do whatever Shannon says,” I said, taking a sip of my slushy drink. “Now that’s a margarita.”
“Does Shannon seem like the type that would put Pearce up to killing her ex?”
“That doesn’t fit her personality; I’ll have to talk to both of them separately to get a better idea of the type of people I’m working for. So what have you been working on lately?”
“Well, you know. Chasing down pimps, hoes, and drug addicts accused of various crimes that always seem to forget their court dates.”
“When are you going to come work with me, Cole Slaw? You could be doing so much better.”
“You mean work for you. I think you would be a terrible boss and I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“Thanks a lot,” I laughed. “You’ll help me if I need you, or is that against the friendship code too?”
“I’ll still help you, but you have to pay me.”
“Okay, no problem. You know that’s just like working for me right?”
“No, it’s not, I’m an independent contractor.” My girl, Cole Slaw, had a smart remark to match my every statement.
Once I had gotten almost completely inebriated, Cole took me home and was nice enough to make sure I got into my apartment unmolested. When I saw Jerry in my bed, I felt like doing a little mischief. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open after shedding my clothing, so I lay beside my man thinking that I would get up and take a shower once I had regained full use of my brain.
I awoke at 3 am to the faint sound of the TV. Jerry was watching Seinfeld, the episode about the guy that makes all the different kinds of soup. I went into the bathroom and pulled back the lavender shower curtain. Bubbled-filled water was in the tub, there was still a little steam coming from the water.
“Are you getting ready to take a bath?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“So this is for me, how did you know I would get up before it got cold?”
“You were turning over and stretching when you heard the water running. I knew it was only a matter of time before you would be getting up.” Amazing. Either I was the luckiest woman in the world or I was so stank that he couldn’t stand being in bed with me and was hoping that I would get up and put some water on my behind.
“Um, Jerry, do I stink?”
“You just smell like margaritas. I didn’t do any exploring because I knew you had been at work all day before going to get wasted.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll be out in a few.” I hope Jerry wasn’t getting sick of me. We hardly ever got to spend time together since I worked from 6 am to 6 pm and he worked from 4 pm to midnight. Jerry and I are both workaholics so sometimes we work a lot longer hours, especially me when I have a case that needs my attention whenever something unexpected comes up. I wonder if he has a problem with my drinking. I mean it’s not like I drink so much I can’t go to work and I never drink at work even though I could because I’m the boss.
I was kinda horny when I woke up then I got mad. I can't be an alcoholic when I still take care of my business. I make more money than he does, maybe he's drunk or a junky or something. I was so hot I was boiling so I got out of the tub and quickly dried myself off. I went and stood right in front of the TV as naked as I was on the day I was born.
“Jerry, I have a question to ask you and I want you to be honest with me.”
“Okay, Sassy. What’s the matter?”
“Do you think I drink too much?” I stood with my hands on my hips waiting.
“Why do you ask that?”
“To get an answer,” I said patiently.
“It’s not like the only thing in your fridge is beer and wine. I just think that when you go out you overdo it. It doesn’t bother me that much because you always have someone you trust to drive for you, but sometimes I worry that you may have something on your mind one day and go out by yourself. What if someone takes advantage of you?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I walked over and sat in Jerry’s lap. He put his arms around me and kissed my neck.
“You know I love you don’t you?” Jerry asked.
“Yes, I know, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m responsible.”
“I’m glad,” he said, caressing my breasts until my nipples hardened. I could feel his excitement through his pajama bottoms and it made me smile.
“I guess this means you’re not mad at me anymore,” I said, kissing him. “Since we’re talking about being responsible…” He put his finger over my lips for a moment then reached under the couch pillow.
“I’m always prepared,” he said.
Jerry and I always made up right after arguing. In the three years of being together, he asked me to marry him about five times. I had always told him I wasn’t ready and he didn’t act as if it bothered him, but I’m sure it did.
My mom left me with Aunt Essie when I was three years old and ran off with the father of her last two kids. I figured that if my mom gave me to her sister but kept her other nine kids something had to be wrong with me. I didn’t want to burden Jerry forever with my issues; I wanted him to have the option to leave whenever he got ready.