Page 113 of Taking Turns

It’s just me and my shame.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Smith

Chella leaves early for work the next morning. She’s cheerful and upbeat, like last night never happened.

I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Maybe both.

I spend the day putting together the last batch of charitable donations for the year and then have the Club car take me over to my foundation headquarters to drop everything off.

When I’m done, it’s barely noon. So I go where I always go. The Club.

It’s very busy today, even though the White Room isn’t open to the public. Members are here for lunch and drinks, since Christmas is on Sunday and just about everyone is off work already.

I head upstairs where Quin is sitting in my bar sipping a beer.

“Hey,” he says, when I sit down. “Bric said there was drama last night?”

“Shit,” I say, shaking my head and motioning for the bartender to bring me a Scotch. “Her fucking father is an asshole.”

Quin nods his head. “I can only imagine.”

“Why?” I ask. “Did she tell you about him?” I’m instantly jealous picturing all the intimate conversations Chella might be having with Quin.

He shrugs me off though. “He’s on the news all the time. I can’t stand that asshole. So smug and full of himself.”

“Hmm. Did Chella ever mention her childhood to you?”

Quin shoots me a look I can only assume is suspicious. “If she did, I wouldn’t tell you what she said. It’s one thing for Bric to tell me you called her in the middle of their date, it’s another to ask me to spill about our time together.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. We don’t talk about it for a reason. We keep the jealousy at bay by living three completely separate lives with the woman we choose to share.

“Sorry,” I say, backing down. “I’m just trying to understand her better. And she’s going to be alone on Christmas. Did you get her a gift?”

“Of course.” Quin laughs. “You didn’t?”

The bartender comes with my drink so I use that time to think. “I’m trying to think of something she’d like.”

“She’s a woman, Smith. She likes attention. Real attention. So give her that and you’ll make her happy.”

“Is that what you got her?” I ask.

“We’re on a different level these days. You don’t need to worry about what I got her.”

“I wonder if she’s getting us something?”

“Why do you think she went shopping alone the other day, dumbass?”

“Where’s Bric?” I ask, changing the subject. “What’s going on with the Club this weekend?”

“Parties, brother. All weekend long. You gonna attend any?”

I almost snort my drink. “No. I’m with Chella until Saturday night. Why would I?”

Quin shrugs. “I’m going.”

He always does. That’s not news.

“So next week?” Quin asks. “You think she’s ready?”