Shame on Him
Page 27“It’s about time you let loose. How is that new case you’re working on? I’m seething with jealousy that this is your life now. So exciting.”
It makes me feel good to hear this from Doug. While it’s true that my parents have always adored him and he played the part of son-in-law to a T, he’s always had my back and been a good friend.
“It’s hard work, but it’s exhilarating. I don’t know how close we are to figuring things out, but hopefully something will develop soon,” I tell him.
“Gay men are never good at keeping secrets, so I’m sure Richard would have told someone something that will help you,” Doug says, looking away from me to wave and smile at a guest.
“Wait, what? Richard was gay?”
Doug turns back to me. “Well, that’s the rumor I heard from a few people. I myself always wondered about him. According to some people, he was the most homophobic man they’ve ever met. He doth protest too much . . .” Doug trails off.
“Since you seem to be in the know, did you ever hear anything about Miles Harper being gay? You remember him, right? He went to school with us and is practicing law at my father’s old firm.”
It’s a long shot, but who knows? I’m willing to try anything at this point. Maybe that’s the secret Miles was trying to blackmail Richard with—the fact that Richard was gay. Maybe the two of them were lovers. Could Miles have killed Richard in anger because Richard wouldn’t give him more?
“Oh, I definitely remember him. If only it were true. That man is gorgeous. I haven’t heard anything, but I could ask around for you,” he tells me.
“I’ve never seen such magnificent flower arrangements. I always knew Doug could do anything.”
I whip my head around at the sound of my mother’s voice.
Considering how adamant she was that the two of us should work things out and how she wouldn’t hear a word of it whenever I tried to explain about Doug being gay, her being at this wedding right now is nothing short of astonishing.
“Doug invited me. I must say I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Where’s Dad? Did he come with you?” I ask.
Not that I want to see him, but he might be able to shed some light on why in the world my mother would ever step foot in a gay wedding celebration.
“Your father is at home with . . . how do you say it? A stick up his ass. Actually, he’s been sleeping in the guest house since your visit,” she informs me.
I’m stunned into silence. I don’t know if it’s the champagne or not, but my head is spinning.
“Breathe, Lorelei,” Doug tells me with a laugh. “Your mother called and told me the three of you had a very unpleasant dinner a week ago. I gave her some advice on how to handle things, but I didn’t expect she’d go at it so wholeheartedly.”
My mother smiles at me and grabs both of my hands. “Lorelei, I would just like to apologize for the way I’ve behaved. I realized after you left that you’re doing something I’ve always wanted to do—be my own person. I’m envious of you. So I told your father where to stick it and kicked him out of the house.”
“Oh, my God!” I exclaim in shock.
“Do you know I’ve never had an orgasm with your father? And I signed up for a pole-dancing class. You should go with me.”
Doug is too busy laughing to care.
It’s impossible for me to even try to say anything more. Turning away from her in a daze, I signal to the bartender. “Bourbon, straight up. And keep them coming.”
I giggle softly to myself when the cab driver asks me where I’m going. Where am I going? My face feels tingly. I tell him to hold on for a second and pull my phone out of my purse.
It takes me a few tries and a few more giggles to punch in the right number.
Paige answers on the first ring. “Did you have a good time?”
I snort in a very unladylike fashion and hiccup. “I had a FABULOUS time! My mother’s never had an orgasm!”
I laugh so hard that my stomach hurts.
“Oh, my God. You’re drunk! Why am I missing this?” Paige asks.
“I feel funny. Everything is funny. I want to have sex with Dallas right now.”
The cab driver stares at me through the rearview mirror and I wave to him.
Right. Liquid courage. I have that in spaces. Or spades. Whatever.
Blowing Paige a few kisses through the phone, I hang up and toss the phone in my clutch.
“Take me to Dallas’s house!” I tell the driver excitedly.
He throws his arm over the back of the seat and turns around. “Where does Dallas live?”
I don’t know. Where DOES Dallas live?
Pulling my purse onto my lap, I dig my phone out again and call him.
“What are you doing calling me? I thought you had a wedding to go to?” Dallas answers. I can hear his smile through the phone and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Or maybe that’s the bourbon talking.
“Where do you live?”
He laughs. “Um, on Highland Street, why?”
“Driver, take me to Highland Street!”