52 - You've Got a Friend

THIS GAME GROWS TIRESOME.

That’s what they cryptic business card said, in a very basic Base64 language.  Talk about dramatic.

Petey ended the call with Tony before she had apologized for missing work and being unavailable when he called that day.  She also ended it before bringing up her potential working conditions, thinking it better to find out what the ‘gobbledy-gook’ on the card amounted to before revealing anything more than she had to.

It amused her to think she was responsible for his boredom.  Boredom was something her 'fiancé' didn’t do well.  He considered it beneath him, and felt that if “one was using one’s mind to its full potential, boredom wouldn’t consume one”.

Lying on the bed, she gave a cheeky grin to the ceiling.  Yeah.  Knowing she was responsible for his mind rotting away from lack of use was a most satisfying thought.

Satisfying as it was, it still didn’t solve the problem of avoiding him now that he knew where she worked.  Once he finally connected with her, it was going to be an ugly scene, and one that she’d rather avoid at all costs.  There no feasible way their meeting would conduct itself on a pleasant note. 

With remorse, she recalled that, toward the end, he seemed to have begun the slippery slide down the slope of sanity.  It was an occupational hazard, she supposed, and another reason to have moved on with a different life for herself.  Not knowing how far that slide had progressed was another reason to keep her distance.

Like today’s episode with Jon wasn’t enough for her emotionally stunted mind to deal with.

The stomach acid that had retreated into submission earlier was still churning unhappily, but at least it was staying in her stomach where it belonged.

It was difficult to decide how to take Jon's parting words.  Did it mean his conscience wasn’t tolerating their arrangement any longer?  That he’d gone too far with today’s kinkery?  Truthfully, it was a little more extreme than she’d been anticipating, but she appreciated the experience, because now she knew where the line was drawn.  Strawberries and champagne, yes.  Strip poker and a little spanking, yes.  Rendered helpless and at his mercy…  Well, not that way.

Of course, with Jon, who knew?  Maybe he’d been dealing with some kind of feelings that he wasn’t ready for.  Petey no more thought it before she laughed at that absurd notion.  If he were going to develop feelings, it surely wouldn’t be for someone small, dark and devilish who wasn’t shy about calling him on his crap.

Maybe that was it.  She had pissed him off beyond all reason by – yet again – arguing with him.  This time could have been the last straw, pushing him over the edge.

But she thought he was made of sterner stuff than that.  She hoped he was. 

Petey found herself in the same dilemma as when he’d asked what she wanted.  She wasn’t ready to let go of him yet.  And she shouldn’t have to for a couple more days, at least.  He’d promised – demanded – a week.

Her worries were interrupted by a vibration in the center of her chest.  It was where she’d put her phone to rest after deciphering Tony’s text, and it was now shimmying with an incoming call.

Holding her breath, she checked the screen, and allowed her wariness became a smile of sorts. 

“Hi, Richie.”

“Hello, lovely dark angel.  How’s it going on that side of the continent?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Only okay?” he asked dubiously.  “A woman as rockin’ as you, and it’s only okay?  Darlin’, you must be doing somethin’ wrong.”

No kidding, she thought darkly.

“Probably, but on top of that it’s been one of those days.”

“Aww, Baby, tell Uncle Richie all about it.  If I can’t make it better, we’ll have phone sex until you forget about it.”

“Richie!” she barked with laughter, thinking that he was as nuts as David. 

He was smug when asking, “Not thinking about your bad day now, are you?”

“No,” was Petey’s grudging concession. “I guess I’m not.”

“Good.  Now that I know it works, we’ll come back to that in a minute, after you tell me who or what’s getting you down.”

She could hardly tell him it was Jon, but she’d already confessed to having a bad day so she had to come up with something.  Scrambling, she quickly developed a creative version of the truth.

“It’s nothing really.  I had a guy who promised to give me some…  lessons and now he’s quitting halfway through.”

“Oh, yeah?  What kind of lessons?  Because if it’s music, I can hook you up with some pretty amazing teachers.”

Brilliant, Petey.  Just brilliant.

“Nooo.  They’re personal improvement lessons,” she improvised, and not all that convincingly.  There was no way in the world he was going to buy this. 

“Like self-esteem?  You don’t seem the type to have those kinds of issues, Darlin’.”

“You’d be surprised, but this is more like working to overcome my fears.  Learning to do new things.”  She was going to Hell.  No doubt about it.  Truthfully, she felt fortunate that she hadn’t already been struck by lightning, the way she was crafting this bizarre tale. 

“And you can’t find somebody else to do that for you?”

“No.”  God, no.  “He’s an expert in his field.  There’s no one else I would want.”  At least that much was true.

“Okay, then you pin his balls to the wall,” Richie told her with authority, and she smiled ruefully at the visual image.  “You have a contract with him, right?”

Contract?  How ironic that Jon had just used that word this morning.  “Nothing was signed, no.”

“But there was a verbal contract?” he pushed.

Thinking back, she remembered him asking her to commit to a week.  That sounded like a contract to her.  “Yes.”

“That’s legally binding, Petey, especially if he’s already delivered on part of it.  Tell him you’ll sue his ass and drag his name through the mud if he doesn’t live up to his obligation.”

“Can I do that?”  And was she legitimately entertaining this notion? 

“Hell yes, you can do that.  Trust me.  Contracts are something I’m very familiar with.  It’s a necessary evil in my business, and I’ve dealt with this kind of thing more than once.  Stand up to him, and show him you aren’t afraid to push for what he owes you.  I guarantee he’ll buckle in no time.”

“I’m not sure I want him to finish if he doesn’t want to do it.  It would be awkward.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t accept a lame performance and let him muddle through.  He owes you the quality of service you agreed upon when this started.  You’re well within your rights to demand it.”

Well, now if that wasn’t interesting.  Petey was sufficiently intrigued.  Did she have the nerve to ‘demand’ that Jon finish his contract with the same quality of ‘service’ that he’d started it with?

You’re the one that said you weren’t ready to let him go.

“Thanks for the advice, Richie.  I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good.  See that you do.  You’re too sweet to have people walking all over you.”

“I know many people who would dispute that fact, but thanks for being my protector,” she laughed. 

Instead of laughing, he pondered quietly, “I don’t know what it is about you, Petey Diehl, but yeah.  I want to protect you.”

Petey swallowed uncomfortably before moving on as though he hadn’t spoken.  “So that’s life on the East Coast.  Tell me about life on the West Coast.”

He obliged her with an audition story about Ava and crazy drivers in LA, his commentary commentary often having her in stitches.  Richie had a unique perception of life, that was for sure.

“But the real reason I called,” he finally told her.  “Was about your New Year’s Eve swag.  I think I’m going to ship it ahead, if that’s okay with you.   That makes one less thing I’ll have to drag through the airport.  I should’ve thought of it sooner, but I’ll send it out tomorrow and it should be there in plenty of time.”

“Sure, that would be fine.  Again, I really appreciate this.  It was very sweet and completely unnecessary.”

“My thanks will come from seeing you looking like a knockout on New Year’s.  Doll yourself up and give me your address.  We’ll call it even.”

She hesitated, still uncomfortable giving out her address.  Tonight’s episode at the studio had proven he was nearby and resourceful.  Petey couldn’t take any unnecessary chances.

“How about you send it to the studio?  Somebody is always there during the day,” she improvised, thinking it sounded like a valid excuse.

Apparently excuse was the operative word from Richie’s point of view.  “You know you’re going to have to tell me where you live sooner or later, right?  We have a date next weekend, and I’m going to come pick you up.  That will be much easier if I know where to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she dodged.  “I can just meet you wherever we’re going.  That’s no problem.”

“Yes, it is a problem.”  It was odd hearing the easy-going man she’d come to know sounding so perturbed.  “We’re going to Connecticut for one thing and, for another, I always make sure my dates get where we’re going and back home safely, in my care, without exception.”

“That’s very chivalrous, and it totally fits your persona, but I’m a big girl.  I prefer to meet you somewhere.”

“Petey,” he grumbled.  “Are you afraid to tell me where you live?  Hell, are you afraid of me?”

“No, of course not,” was her immediate denial.  “There’s no way I would be afraid of you, but I am neurotic about letting anyone know where I live.”  Did she give him even an inkling of why?  “I…  I’ve had trouble with an old boyfriend.  Right now, the fewer people who know how to find me, the better.”

“What do you mean trouble?”  Captain Chivalry immediately mounted his trusty white steed, ready to do battle.  The image made her smile.  “Is this guy threatening you?”

“No.”  Not really.  “I simply prefer to keep myself hidden away so that I don’t have the risk of running into him, whether accidentally or on purpose.”

“Darlin’, wandering out by yourself is a whole lot more dangerous than letting me come get you in a car that has blackout tint all around.  Don’t you think?”

No.  Probably not, but for this moment in time, after the day she’d had…  Petey was willing to give in to the illusion that someone genuinely cared about her and her well-being.

Jon told you he was worried today.

Yes, but Jon was a control freak.  Richie was…  Richie.  She didn’t have the feeling that he wanted to control her.  Cuddle her to death, maybe, but not control.

“How about you send the package to the studio, and we can iron out the fine details of our date next week?”

“Very diplomatically done,” he applauded.  “And for that reason, I’ll back down for now.  But keep something in mind Petey:  Just because I’m a nice guy doesn’t mean I’m not a stubborn son of a bitch.  Especially when it comes to making sure my friends are taken care of.  Capisce?”

“Yeah.”  Petey sighed softly, resigning herself to Richie’s presence being more prominent in her life than she’d originally planned.  “Capisce.”