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“That’s exactly what I was thinking. I was going to show you the site of your future new location tonight. There’s a prime lot open on South Clinton Street that I’ve already put a deposit on.”
As much as we should be discussing my money and mydecisions, I can’t argue that I’m not thrilled about Quade’s plans for it. After all, he is right. My father never had any intention to give me that money.
“After dinner, I’ll take you to see the new house. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to move some of your basic furniture over already…I can hire movers for the rest,” he says as the waitress lays our rolls before us.
I pick up my chopsticks and begin eating with a somewhat softened facial expression, still fuming that he would arbitrarily sell the house and buy another one without consulting me in any way. Granted, Quade knows my tastes well and I’ll probably love it, which is entirely beside the point, and hey, at least he’s aware he was taking liberties when he…moved a few pieces of my furniture! What the hell is Quade’s actual sense of priority, anyway, that he feels compelled to use apologetic language around moving my furniture…into a house he bought without even asking me?! How very decent of him! Idiot.
We eat for a few minutes while I mull over the best way to launch into the topic of his camera habit. And also the fact that I’d never spend a night in a house Quade’s had access to, without changing all the locks first thing.
“So,” I start in with a roll stuffed into my cheek, “where’s the house?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” he replies with his patronizing smile.
“Quade…what side of town is it on? Come on…just tell me what part of town it’s in,” I insist, beginning to raise my voice again.
“Nah ah ahh.” Quade rests his chopsticks to lift his hand and wave a naughty finger at me.
I swear with everything I am that I want to murder my ex husband. Right. Now.
“Quade…I hate you,” I say without sarcasm.
“Sweetie, come on. Settle down,” he responds with a laugh.
“No! Don’t tell me to settle down. Are you laughing at me? You have the nerve to sit here and…and actually laugh at me?! Are you out of your mind?!” Our teacups rattle as I abruptly rise and slam my polyester napkin onto my plate, grab my purse, and book it for the door.
“Cookie! Cookie…sweetie!” he calls after me before saying something to the waitress.
I continue marching toward my car, but Quade dashes out of the restaurant and heads me off within seconds.
“You left without paying?” I ask to change the subject.
“No…I just told her to hold my card. That’s not important right now. Cookie, listen to me,” he says pleadingly, as he physically blocks me from entering my car. “Why do things have to be like this? We used to be best friends. We are friends. What’s…what’s going on with you these days?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on Quade. Here’s what’s going on…first of all, I know about the phone tapping.” He stammers out a half-laugh and shrugs like he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Oh yeah, I know all about it. And…I know about the cameras.” His face goes white as a sheet. “You, my dear friend, are a very sick man…and—”
“Oh my God, Fiona…how could you have not told me about this?” Quade asks as though stricken.
“Not told you what? That I know what a psycho you are?!”
“Cookie, my God…how could you have not told me someone tapped your phone? And what is this about cameras?”
“Bullshit Quade! This is bullshit! I’m calling bullshit on you right now,” I shout, not about to lose my conviction.
“Ulysses.”
“What?”
“Who else? I knew there was something wrong with that guy. You should have never gotten mixed up with a guy like that.”
“Oh my God,” I mumble through my fingers. “Wait… no…wait…you mean it wasn’t you?”
“Fiona, how could you? How could you even think such a thing about me?” Quade timidly asks, looking devastated.
“Well I…I…well. Well there was that one night when you broke into my house and came into my bedroom and held my arms so I couldn’t go and acted like you were going to have me against my will. What about that night, Quade? Remember that one? Why wouldn’t I think that the same creep who did that would also tap my phone and rig my home with cameras?! Huh?!”
“Cookie I’m…I’m so sorry about that. I was confused about…your signals. I guess I got the wrong idea. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Um, maybe. Except that then you followed me across town naked to assure me that going to the law about it would be useless. How about that little detail, Quade?”
