Zed, p.6
Zed, page 6
“You stopped just short of telling him to ‘wax on, wax off.’ What’s with the Karate Kid routine?”
I heard Kota, the studio’s receptionist, snort behind me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no routine. I’m just showing him the ropes the way I would any new apprentice.”
“But that’s the thing. He’s not an apprentice, is he? He’s an epically rich, horrifically spoiled kid who you only know because he redecorated your shop with the contents of his guts a few days ago, and who, let’s face it, is about as likely to pursue a career as a tattooist as I am to become a prima ballerina. So again, I ask you, what are you trying to prove here?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything. He may not be an apprentice in the true sense of the word, but given his behavior earlier this week, he’s here in the same capacity as far as I’m concerned. It’s really as simple, and as complicated, as that.”
I folded my arms again. “So what’s the next task, catching flies with chopsticks?”
“Ha! Very funny. I guess I’m not the only one who needs to update their movie references. That joint is old as fuck.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. There was a remake.”
“I’m aware, but Jaden Smith wasn’t catching flies with chopsticks, so….”
“Touché. You’re absolutely right. So who saved you for you to want to pay it forward to a kid like Xavier?” I changed the subject abruptly, suspecting it wasn’t a question he was going to want to answer.
More snorts from Kota. What is with that?
Zed, on the other hand, looked as though he had swallowed his tongue. Or a fly. Or both.
“What? Nobody saved me. What are you talking about?”
“Come on, don’t be coy. Nobody does what you’re doing for no reason, so who saved you?”
“Listen, you’re not in the courtroom now, so you don’t get to cross-examine me. In any case, you’re way off base.” He folded his arms, mirroring my earlier posture. We were clearly both well-versed in the universal language for “I’m pissed off.” I knew continuing down that path was going to be fruitless, so I decided to change tack again. Lawyer habits die hard.
“How did you get into tattooing?”
His arms remained folded, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was clearly trying to work out my angle. There really wasn’t one, apart from the desire to know who I was dealing with. After all, I was unfortunately going to be spending at least the next few Saturdays in the shop, so I felt it only fair that I knew a little about the guy who was responsible for that fact.
“I’ve always liked drawing. I guess tattooing was a natural extension of that.”
“Well, that makes sense, but how exactly did you get started? Did someone teach you, or are you self-taught? Who gave you your big break? I mean, it’s not the kind of thing the school careers advisor recommends, is it?”
“Not exactly, but in a way I guess I got into it through a government-sponsored program.” His words hung heavily in the air, as did tension, and the bitter stench of bullshit.
“Okay, so what’s with the number five? What does it mean to you?”
“What are you talking about?” Either he was an Oscar-worthy actor, or he was genuinely confused by the question.
“Um, the enormous dice on your chest. They’re a pair of fives, aren’t they? Or did I just imagine that?”
“No, you didn’t.”
I waited, but that was apparently all he had to say on the matter. Jesus, talking to him was like pulling teeth. From a rhino.
“Right… so what do they mean?”
He frowned deeply, then sighed heavily, shifting his weight from foot to foot before uncrossing and recrossing his arms again.
“It’s personal.”
Nobody spoke or moved. It was the loudest silence I had ever heard.
As though on cue, Xavier appeared in the doorway behind Zed, brandishing his phone aloft triumphantly.
“Okay, I have all the orders now. I swear to God some of them have changed—they don’t seem as weird as they were before. It doesn’t matter what they are though, I have it all here so I can’t fu—I mean, mess it up.”
I sighed heavily. That boy had the worst timing. I’d obviously hit a raw nerve with my last line of questioning, but I had no idea why. Enquiring how a person had gotten into their profession was a pretty standard, if not totally cliché question, yet Zed acted as though I’d demanded the password to his bank account—so much suspicion and hesitance. There had to be a story there—I had no clue what, but the conversation had definitely whetted my appetite to find out more
When Xavier and I returned with the second round of coffees, Zed was nowhere to be seen, as I’d suspected might be the case. I wondered if he was with a client or was just lying low after our previous exchange.
Kota must have picked up on something in my body language, speaking up after a few moments even though I hadn’t said anything.
“He’s with his first client of the day. He’ll be a couple of hours. I’ll take his coffee in, but other than that, he can’t be disturbed.” She shifted her gaze to address Xavier. “You can go ahead and hand out the other coffees, including mine. I’m dying over here. Give me Zed’s too, please. Don’t go into his room.”
Xavier did as he was told before heading out back again. Wonders would never cease.
When he was gone, I asked Kota, “Is he always so—”
“Pigheaded? Stubborn? Arrogant? Rude?”
“I was going to say defensive, but those other things are also very accurate. So…?”
“None of the above,” she answered without hesitation.
What? So he was just being especially difficult with me? But why?
“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. He’s normally worse, believe it or not.”
I actually couldn’t believe it.
Kota paused for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully. I wondered if she was trying to work out whether to say anything else.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard to imagine, but I guess you need to see it to believe it. Trust me, if you were anybody else, he would’ve shut you down right after the Mr. Miyagi comment—which, can I just say was so well played, I wanted to laugh out loud.”
“Ha! Thanks. I’m pretty sure Zed didn’t appreciate it at all.”
“Oh, you can bet your bottom dollar he didn’t, but that’s what makes it all the funnier. He can be so humorless sometimes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely guy deep down, but it’s buried underneath layers of surly brooding. Anyway, not many people are game enough to push his buttons, so I take my hat off to you for your bravery. It was a beauty to witness.”
I was beginning to wonder if it was less bravery and more stupidity, given what she’d just told me.
9
Zed
Three weeks later
A thirteen-hour working day had taken a toll on my body and mind. Each footfall seemed to sap more energy than the last as I trudged heavily across the reception area, yet the distance seemed to be getting longer with every step, and my office seemed farther away rather than nearer.
As I had so many times before, I questioned why I so often put myself through such grueling days. I could have finished hours earlier, but I chose to offer late-night appointments. As draining as it was, I preferred to work that way than to have long evenings to fill at home, alone with my thoughts. I was so exhausted at the end of the day that by the time I’d locked up and driven the short journey home, I only had enough energy to eat a quick meal, shower and head to bed before starting the whole routine again.
I did my final tasks for the night before leaving through the front door, locking up, pulling down the metal security shutter and setting the alarm. I leaned back against the door, letting my head thud noisily into it, and closing my eyes. I slowly released the breath I felt like I’d been subconsciously holding since I’d started work that morning.
“Long day?”
My eyes snapped open as my heart beat heavily against my chest.
“What the fuck? You nearly gave me a damn heart attack. What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? Did something happen to Xavier?”
“If it did, I’m not aware. Last I heard he was doing just fine.”
“Okay, so are you stalking me?” Poor choice of words. Very poor.
“Am I what?” Octavia looked like she wanted to slap me. “Um… let me see….”
She pursed her lips and tapped them, frowning as though searching the recesses of her mind for the information she needed, though of course, I knew she was doing no such thing. In fact, she was way more likely very carefully choosing the words with which she was about to figuratively string me up by my balls.
“I left here with everyone’s favorite man-boy, riding an hour across the city to drop him off at school, as it’s the only way I can trust that he will actually go back at the allotted time and not pull some stunt like bribing the driver to take him God knows where to do God knows what. Then I spent another forty minutes going in the opposite direction to get home so I could finally start my weekend proper, having spent the entire day in the stimulating company of the aforementioned hell-raiser. So imagine my ‘delight’ when a few hours later, I reached into my purse and realized my iPad was missing.” Sarcasm was her superpower.
“I knew for a fact that I’d placed it there before we left the shop, but I also remembered that I had left my purse unattended while I went to the bathroom just before getting into the cab. Kota wasn’t at the desk, and the only other person in the room had been, you guessed it, the inimitable Master Cross. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude that he had something to do with its disappearance.”
“So if he has it, what are you doing here so late?”
“I didn’t say he had it, I said he had something to do with it going missing. I used Find My iPad, and surprise of surprises, it’s apparently here.”
Ah. That made sense.
“I tried calling both the shop and your phone a couple of times, but no answer. I remembered Kota saying she’d finish at six, everyone else at seven, but you’d be here until much later. I had plans for the evening, so I decided to salvage what was left of my night and deal with it later.”
It was only then that I noticed her attire, the fitted black skirt and top accented at the waist with a red belt, matched with coordinating red sky-high heels. Her hair was piled up high on her head, and her lips were the same shade of red as her shoes. Maybe she was on a date. Why did that thought disturb me?
“I need the iPad so I can spend tomorrow catching up on work I didn’t get done today, for obvious reasons, so I called a few more times on my way home. When I got no answer again, I just decided to head over here and see if I could catch you.”
“So here you are.”
“Well observed. I am indeed here. I was hoping you could let me in so I can look for it.”
I suddenly realized that I had been staring at her lips for longer than was socially acceptable. I cleared my throat, dragging my eyes back up to meet hers.
“Yeah. Sure. Okay.” I wasn’t about to win any awards for my oratory skills.
I did the process I had just completed in reverse to open the security shutters, disable the alarm, and let us back into the shop, flicking on the lights in the reception area. A quick sweep of the room confirmed my suspicion that the missing device was nowhere in sight. I didn’t remember seeing it on the way out, so I’d already figured as much. Something told me I was going to live to regret inviting the kid into my life, in more ways than one.
We both searched thoroughly; I even looked around Kota’s workstation, and in the bathroom. No iPad.
“Do you think he’s hidden it somewhere out back? The storage area, or your office, maybe?” I could tell she was getting more pissed with every passing moment. She wasn’t alone in that. I would be giving it to the little douche with both barrels when I saw him the following Saturday.
“Anything is possible, though why he would want to hide it at all is beyond me.”
“In my limited knowledge of child psychology, I’d say there are two possible explanations. One, he’s an asshole. Two, it’s attention seeking. I think I heard it on Oprah or Dr. Phil, or somewhere equally as deep that when a kid acts out, they’re really just trying to tell us something. It’s our job as adults to decipher what that something is.”
Her words hit harder than she could possibly have known. I’d learned from bitter experience what could happen if people failed to decode those messages. The permanent knot of guilt in my stomach tightened. Fuck.
“Maybe what he’s trying to tell us is that he’s an attention-seeking asshole.” It was a flippant remark more designed to ease my discomfort than an accurate reflection of my opinion of Xavier Cross.
“Either way, he’s succeeded. He has my attention, not that he’s here to receive it.”
“True. Hold tight.” I went out back, leaving Octavia in reception.
The storage area was nothing more than an oversized closet next door to the slightly more oversized closet that passed for my office. I was a stickler for a place for everything, and everything in its place, so it was fairly easy to see that the iPad wasn’t there. Still, I took a good look just to be sure, searching inside boxes, behind piles of supplies and on the highest shelves. Attention seeking or not, the kid was a piece of work, and the iPad was nowhere to be seen.
When I rejoined Octavia, she was still hunting, although it was clear it wasn’t there. She frowned deeply when she saw I was empty-handed.
“Nothing?”
“Nada. Are you sure you definitely put it in your purse at the end of the day? Or that you didn’t misplace it in the cab, or somewhere at home? Is there a chance you didn’t even have it with you today? I’ve done shit like that before, and it’s pretty clear it’s not here.”
“So many questions. I thought I was the only attorney in the room. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of a cross-examination, but let’s get a few things straight, for the record: I’m not senile. Yes, I’m sure I had it with me. I actually used it while we were here. And yes, I do distinctly remember then putting it in my purse. If you don’t believe me, maybe we should review the security footage. I’m sure it’s all there in grainy black and white.”
“I didn’t say I don’t believe you. I’m as perturbed by this as you are, and all I’m doing is trying to help you find your device so we can both go home and forget about Xavier for at least the dying moments of the day.”
“I appreciate that fact, but on that note, are you sure you looked properly out there? I mean, most guys can’t be trusted to look past the end of their noses to find shit. Maybe I should go out there to double-check and save us any more wasted time.”
I was losing patience fast, but I didn’t want to let her know she was getting to me. “I looked properly. Trust me. I checked every inch of the storeroom thoroughly.”
“The storeroom? What about everywhere else?”
“Everywhere where? Other than that, there’s only the unit out the back, which is empty apart from my free weights, the treatment rooms, and my office. I poked my head into the unit, and it’s still decidedly empty, and I think one of us would have noticed if Xavier had come into our treatment room while we were working.”
“So that just leaves your office.”
“But why the hell would he put your shit in my office?”
“I don’t know. I say either we go and have a look, or better yet, look at the camera footage and find out for sure. Of course, if you have any other genius suggestions, I’m all ears, because one thing’s for sure: we’re not going to get to the bottom of it by standing around speculating.”
So help me, I was just about done with her. I didn’t want to say something we’d both live to regret, but for some reason, she seemed to delight in pushing my buttons.
I didn’t respond, instead beckoning her down the hallway toward my office so she could look with her own eyes, or we could review the footage together. Once at my office, I flicked on the light and motioned for Octavia to sit in the spare chair. She hesitated, as though she was considering saying no, then seemed to think better of it and sat down gingerly. Maybe she thought the chair was contaminated or something.
I was about to unlock the cabinet where I kept the recording equipment so we could go through footage when, on a whim, I pulled out the top drawer of my desk. Lo and behold, there on top of the rarely used stationery was the goddamned missing iPad. By that point, I wasn’t even surprised.
I picked it up, sighing resignedly, and handed it to Octavia. She stood up and took it from me, then gave me a death stare as though I was somehow responsible, which was ridiculous given that it had gone missing on her watch, not mine. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she didn’t actually mean to snatch it from my hand.
“Ugh. That kid does a good job of making himself hard to like, that’s for sure. Seems he’s a chip off the old block.”
That was something we could agree on. Xander Cross had more than a small reputation for being a card-carrying asshat.
“Well, they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Which made me wonder what her father was like. I kept my rogue thoughts to myself; there was already enough tension in the room.
“Thank you. Or something. I’ll see you next week.” She started to leave but then turned back to me. She paused, biting on her bottom lip momentarily, and I had the inexplicable urge to do the same. They were lush and plump, and as bite-worthy as my thoughts were inappropriate. I pulled my focus back to the rest of her face and zeroed in on what she was saying.
“I was equally frustrated and intrigued by our conversation that very first Saturday. Even more so by some of the things that Kota said about you after you’d left the room.”
Note to self: fire Kota on Monday.
I would do no such thing, of course. But telling Octavia Christ knew what about me while I wasn’t there to defend myself, or at the very least shut the conversation down, was stretching the friendship, for sure. It was a good thing she was more like a sibling than a friend, especially since I didn’t have any siblings I could verbally spar with the way I did with Kota. My heart kicked painfully at the thought, and I hated that I’d let my thoughts go there again.
I heard Kota, the studio’s receptionist, snort behind me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no routine. I’m just showing him the ropes the way I would any new apprentice.”
“But that’s the thing. He’s not an apprentice, is he? He’s an epically rich, horrifically spoiled kid who you only know because he redecorated your shop with the contents of his guts a few days ago, and who, let’s face it, is about as likely to pursue a career as a tattooist as I am to become a prima ballerina. So again, I ask you, what are you trying to prove here?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything. He may not be an apprentice in the true sense of the word, but given his behavior earlier this week, he’s here in the same capacity as far as I’m concerned. It’s really as simple, and as complicated, as that.”
I folded my arms again. “So what’s the next task, catching flies with chopsticks?”
“Ha! Very funny. I guess I’m not the only one who needs to update their movie references. That joint is old as fuck.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. There was a remake.”
“I’m aware, but Jaden Smith wasn’t catching flies with chopsticks, so….”
“Touché. You’re absolutely right. So who saved you for you to want to pay it forward to a kid like Xavier?” I changed the subject abruptly, suspecting it wasn’t a question he was going to want to answer.
More snorts from Kota. What is with that?
Zed, on the other hand, looked as though he had swallowed his tongue. Or a fly. Or both.
“What? Nobody saved me. What are you talking about?”
“Come on, don’t be coy. Nobody does what you’re doing for no reason, so who saved you?”
“Listen, you’re not in the courtroom now, so you don’t get to cross-examine me. In any case, you’re way off base.” He folded his arms, mirroring my earlier posture. We were clearly both well-versed in the universal language for “I’m pissed off.” I knew continuing down that path was going to be fruitless, so I decided to change tack again. Lawyer habits die hard.
“How did you get into tattooing?”
His arms remained folded, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was clearly trying to work out my angle. There really wasn’t one, apart from the desire to know who I was dealing with. After all, I was unfortunately going to be spending at least the next few Saturdays in the shop, so I felt it only fair that I knew a little about the guy who was responsible for that fact.
“I’ve always liked drawing. I guess tattooing was a natural extension of that.”
“Well, that makes sense, but how exactly did you get started? Did someone teach you, or are you self-taught? Who gave you your big break? I mean, it’s not the kind of thing the school careers advisor recommends, is it?”
“Not exactly, but in a way I guess I got into it through a government-sponsored program.” His words hung heavily in the air, as did tension, and the bitter stench of bullshit.
“Okay, so what’s with the number five? What does it mean to you?”
“What are you talking about?” Either he was an Oscar-worthy actor, or he was genuinely confused by the question.
“Um, the enormous dice on your chest. They’re a pair of fives, aren’t they? Or did I just imagine that?”
“No, you didn’t.”
I waited, but that was apparently all he had to say on the matter. Jesus, talking to him was like pulling teeth. From a rhino.
“Right… so what do they mean?”
He frowned deeply, then sighed heavily, shifting his weight from foot to foot before uncrossing and recrossing his arms again.
“It’s personal.”
Nobody spoke or moved. It was the loudest silence I had ever heard.
As though on cue, Xavier appeared in the doorway behind Zed, brandishing his phone aloft triumphantly.
“Okay, I have all the orders now. I swear to God some of them have changed—they don’t seem as weird as they were before. It doesn’t matter what they are though, I have it all here so I can’t fu—I mean, mess it up.”
I sighed heavily. That boy had the worst timing. I’d obviously hit a raw nerve with my last line of questioning, but I had no idea why. Enquiring how a person had gotten into their profession was a pretty standard, if not totally cliché question, yet Zed acted as though I’d demanded the password to his bank account—so much suspicion and hesitance. There had to be a story there—I had no clue what, but the conversation had definitely whetted my appetite to find out more
When Xavier and I returned with the second round of coffees, Zed was nowhere to be seen, as I’d suspected might be the case. I wondered if he was with a client or was just lying low after our previous exchange.
Kota must have picked up on something in my body language, speaking up after a few moments even though I hadn’t said anything.
“He’s with his first client of the day. He’ll be a couple of hours. I’ll take his coffee in, but other than that, he can’t be disturbed.” She shifted her gaze to address Xavier. “You can go ahead and hand out the other coffees, including mine. I’m dying over here. Give me Zed’s too, please. Don’t go into his room.”
Xavier did as he was told before heading out back again. Wonders would never cease.
When he was gone, I asked Kota, “Is he always so—”
“Pigheaded? Stubborn? Arrogant? Rude?”
“I was going to say defensive, but those other things are also very accurate. So…?”
“None of the above,” she answered without hesitation.
What? So he was just being especially difficult with me? But why?
“Oh, no. Don’t get me wrong. He’s normally worse, believe it or not.”
I actually couldn’t believe it.
Kota paused for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully. I wondered if she was trying to work out whether to say anything else.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard to imagine, but I guess you need to see it to believe it. Trust me, if you were anybody else, he would’ve shut you down right after the Mr. Miyagi comment—which, can I just say was so well played, I wanted to laugh out loud.”
“Ha! Thanks. I’m pretty sure Zed didn’t appreciate it at all.”
“Oh, you can bet your bottom dollar he didn’t, but that’s what makes it all the funnier. He can be so humorless sometimes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely guy deep down, but it’s buried underneath layers of surly brooding. Anyway, not many people are game enough to push his buttons, so I take my hat off to you for your bravery. It was a beauty to witness.”
I was beginning to wonder if it was less bravery and more stupidity, given what she’d just told me.
9
Zed
Three weeks later
A thirteen-hour working day had taken a toll on my body and mind. Each footfall seemed to sap more energy than the last as I trudged heavily across the reception area, yet the distance seemed to be getting longer with every step, and my office seemed farther away rather than nearer.
As I had so many times before, I questioned why I so often put myself through such grueling days. I could have finished hours earlier, but I chose to offer late-night appointments. As draining as it was, I preferred to work that way than to have long evenings to fill at home, alone with my thoughts. I was so exhausted at the end of the day that by the time I’d locked up and driven the short journey home, I only had enough energy to eat a quick meal, shower and head to bed before starting the whole routine again.
I did my final tasks for the night before leaving through the front door, locking up, pulling down the metal security shutter and setting the alarm. I leaned back against the door, letting my head thud noisily into it, and closing my eyes. I slowly released the breath I felt like I’d been subconsciously holding since I’d started work that morning.
“Long day?”
My eyes snapped open as my heart beat heavily against my chest.
“What the fuck? You nearly gave me a damn heart attack. What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? Did something happen to Xavier?”
“If it did, I’m not aware. Last I heard he was doing just fine.”
“Okay, so are you stalking me?” Poor choice of words. Very poor.
“Am I what?” Octavia looked like she wanted to slap me. “Um… let me see….”
She pursed her lips and tapped them, frowning as though searching the recesses of her mind for the information she needed, though of course, I knew she was doing no such thing. In fact, she was way more likely very carefully choosing the words with which she was about to figuratively string me up by my balls.
“I left here with everyone’s favorite man-boy, riding an hour across the city to drop him off at school, as it’s the only way I can trust that he will actually go back at the allotted time and not pull some stunt like bribing the driver to take him God knows where to do God knows what. Then I spent another forty minutes going in the opposite direction to get home so I could finally start my weekend proper, having spent the entire day in the stimulating company of the aforementioned hell-raiser. So imagine my ‘delight’ when a few hours later, I reached into my purse and realized my iPad was missing.” Sarcasm was her superpower.
“I knew for a fact that I’d placed it there before we left the shop, but I also remembered that I had left my purse unattended while I went to the bathroom just before getting into the cab. Kota wasn’t at the desk, and the only other person in the room had been, you guessed it, the inimitable Master Cross. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude that he had something to do with its disappearance.”
“So if he has it, what are you doing here so late?”
“I didn’t say he had it, I said he had something to do with it going missing. I used Find My iPad, and surprise of surprises, it’s apparently here.”
Ah. That made sense.
“I tried calling both the shop and your phone a couple of times, but no answer. I remembered Kota saying she’d finish at six, everyone else at seven, but you’d be here until much later. I had plans for the evening, so I decided to salvage what was left of my night and deal with it later.”
It was only then that I noticed her attire, the fitted black skirt and top accented at the waist with a red belt, matched with coordinating red sky-high heels. Her hair was piled up high on her head, and her lips were the same shade of red as her shoes. Maybe she was on a date. Why did that thought disturb me?
“I need the iPad so I can spend tomorrow catching up on work I didn’t get done today, for obvious reasons, so I called a few more times on my way home. When I got no answer again, I just decided to head over here and see if I could catch you.”
“So here you are.”
“Well observed. I am indeed here. I was hoping you could let me in so I can look for it.”
I suddenly realized that I had been staring at her lips for longer than was socially acceptable. I cleared my throat, dragging my eyes back up to meet hers.
“Yeah. Sure. Okay.” I wasn’t about to win any awards for my oratory skills.
I did the process I had just completed in reverse to open the security shutters, disable the alarm, and let us back into the shop, flicking on the lights in the reception area. A quick sweep of the room confirmed my suspicion that the missing device was nowhere in sight. I didn’t remember seeing it on the way out, so I’d already figured as much. Something told me I was going to live to regret inviting the kid into my life, in more ways than one.
We both searched thoroughly; I even looked around Kota’s workstation, and in the bathroom. No iPad.
“Do you think he’s hidden it somewhere out back? The storage area, or your office, maybe?” I could tell she was getting more pissed with every passing moment. She wasn’t alone in that. I would be giving it to the little douche with both barrels when I saw him the following Saturday.
“Anything is possible, though why he would want to hide it at all is beyond me.”
“In my limited knowledge of child psychology, I’d say there are two possible explanations. One, he’s an asshole. Two, it’s attention seeking. I think I heard it on Oprah or Dr. Phil, or somewhere equally as deep that when a kid acts out, they’re really just trying to tell us something. It’s our job as adults to decipher what that something is.”
Her words hit harder than she could possibly have known. I’d learned from bitter experience what could happen if people failed to decode those messages. The permanent knot of guilt in my stomach tightened. Fuck.
“Maybe what he’s trying to tell us is that he’s an attention-seeking asshole.” It was a flippant remark more designed to ease my discomfort than an accurate reflection of my opinion of Xavier Cross.
“Either way, he’s succeeded. He has my attention, not that he’s here to receive it.”
“True. Hold tight.” I went out back, leaving Octavia in reception.
The storage area was nothing more than an oversized closet next door to the slightly more oversized closet that passed for my office. I was a stickler for a place for everything, and everything in its place, so it was fairly easy to see that the iPad wasn’t there. Still, I took a good look just to be sure, searching inside boxes, behind piles of supplies and on the highest shelves. Attention seeking or not, the kid was a piece of work, and the iPad was nowhere to be seen.
When I rejoined Octavia, she was still hunting, although it was clear it wasn’t there. She frowned deeply when she saw I was empty-handed.
“Nothing?”
“Nada. Are you sure you definitely put it in your purse at the end of the day? Or that you didn’t misplace it in the cab, or somewhere at home? Is there a chance you didn’t even have it with you today? I’ve done shit like that before, and it’s pretty clear it’s not here.”
“So many questions. I thought I was the only attorney in the room. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of a cross-examination, but let’s get a few things straight, for the record: I’m not senile. Yes, I’m sure I had it with me. I actually used it while we were here. And yes, I do distinctly remember then putting it in my purse. If you don’t believe me, maybe we should review the security footage. I’m sure it’s all there in grainy black and white.”
“I didn’t say I don’t believe you. I’m as perturbed by this as you are, and all I’m doing is trying to help you find your device so we can both go home and forget about Xavier for at least the dying moments of the day.”
“I appreciate that fact, but on that note, are you sure you looked properly out there? I mean, most guys can’t be trusted to look past the end of their noses to find shit. Maybe I should go out there to double-check and save us any more wasted time.”
I was losing patience fast, but I didn’t want to let her know she was getting to me. “I looked properly. Trust me. I checked every inch of the storeroom thoroughly.”
“The storeroom? What about everywhere else?”
“Everywhere where? Other than that, there’s only the unit out the back, which is empty apart from my free weights, the treatment rooms, and my office. I poked my head into the unit, and it’s still decidedly empty, and I think one of us would have noticed if Xavier had come into our treatment room while we were working.”
“So that just leaves your office.”
“But why the hell would he put your shit in my office?”
“I don’t know. I say either we go and have a look, or better yet, look at the camera footage and find out for sure. Of course, if you have any other genius suggestions, I’m all ears, because one thing’s for sure: we’re not going to get to the bottom of it by standing around speculating.”
So help me, I was just about done with her. I didn’t want to say something we’d both live to regret, but for some reason, she seemed to delight in pushing my buttons.
I didn’t respond, instead beckoning her down the hallway toward my office so she could look with her own eyes, or we could review the footage together. Once at my office, I flicked on the light and motioned for Octavia to sit in the spare chair. She hesitated, as though she was considering saying no, then seemed to think better of it and sat down gingerly. Maybe she thought the chair was contaminated or something.
I was about to unlock the cabinet where I kept the recording equipment so we could go through footage when, on a whim, I pulled out the top drawer of my desk. Lo and behold, there on top of the rarely used stationery was the goddamned missing iPad. By that point, I wasn’t even surprised.
I picked it up, sighing resignedly, and handed it to Octavia. She stood up and took it from me, then gave me a death stare as though I was somehow responsible, which was ridiculous given that it had gone missing on her watch, not mine. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she didn’t actually mean to snatch it from my hand.
“Ugh. That kid does a good job of making himself hard to like, that’s for sure. Seems he’s a chip off the old block.”
That was something we could agree on. Xander Cross had more than a small reputation for being a card-carrying asshat.
“Well, they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Which made me wonder what her father was like. I kept my rogue thoughts to myself; there was already enough tension in the room.
“Thank you. Or something. I’ll see you next week.” She started to leave but then turned back to me. She paused, biting on her bottom lip momentarily, and I had the inexplicable urge to do the same. They were lush and plump, and as bite-worthy as my thoughts were inappropriate. I pulled my focus back to the rest of her face and zeroed in on what she was saying.
“I was equally frustrated and intrigued by our conversation that very first Saturday. Even more so by some of the things that Kota said about you after you’d left the room.”
Note to self: fire Kota on Monday.
I would do no such thing, of course. But telling Octavia Christ knew what about me while I wasn’t there to defend myself, or at the very least shut the conversation down, was stretching the friendship, for sure. It was a good thing she was more like a sibling than a friend, especially since I didn’t have any siblings I could verbally spar with the way I did with Kota. My heart kicked painfully at the thought, and I hated that I’d let my thoughts go there again.
