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I sag where I stand, weighing up my chances of waking Maxine. I don’t fancy them. So I make my way to another room, collapse into bed, and let my brain torment me with all the endless questions I have about Lo.
Chapter Fifteen
“Holy mother of all fucking hangovers,” Todd says as he falls into the kitchen the next morning. He’s scratching his blond head, squinting, as I stir some sugar into my coffee.
“You look like shit,” I tell him.
“How’d you look so fresh?” he mumbles, joining me at the breakfast bar and stealing my coffee.
“Maxine wasn’t exactly functioning.”
“Oh?” He gives me a disappointed look.
“She passed out on my bed.”
“Ah, man. That sucks.” He lightly punches my bicep. “Sorry for your loss, bro.”
I let his joke slide over my head, avoiding telling him not to be sorry, since I’m not.
Both of us look to the door when two bedraggled women enter the kitchen, one looking satisfied, the other looking sheepish. No prizes for guessing which is which.
“Morning,” I say, watching as Maxine rubs at her forehead. “Coffee?”
“Please,” Cherry pipes in, eyeing Todd’s torso.
“No thanks.” Maxine nudges her friend in the side, giving her a look that suggests she wants to escape quickly. “We should be going, right?”
Cherry’s face disagrees, but she relents, sashaying over to Todd. “Call me?”
Todd plasters on a smile that I’ve seen too many times. A dirty great big fake smile. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He kisses her cheek and slaps her arse, making her giggle as she walks out of the kitchen.
“Nice meeting you, Maxine,” I call to her back as she makes a quick, embarrassed exit. I look at Todd, who I know has already forgotten about Cherry. “You’re not going to call her, are you?”
“Rule number one. Always take their number. Never give them yours. I made that mistake once, and she moved herself into my apartment.”
I laugh and get up to make myself another coffee, since Todd’s kindly slurping his way through mine. “You gonna check if she’s gone yet?”
“I have a locksmith meeting me there at eleven to change the locks again. Can you believe she did that?” Todd turns a pleading look onto me. “Will you come with me?”
“What, to your apartment?”
“Yeah. She might have set booby traps. I need my wingman with me.”
I howl with laughter. “You’re such a pussy.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll get a shower.” I head for my room and strip the bed before I dive under the hot spray.
“I can’t hear anything,” Todd says, his ear pressed to the wood of his door. “What’s the time?”
“Eleven,” I confirm, looking up as a man rounds the corner in the corridor, carrying a toolbox. “I think this is your locksmith.”
“Great.” Todd shakes the hand of the man and proceeds to show him ID before he gets to work on the locks.
“Bad breakup?” the locksmith asks, just as the door pops open.
“I didn’t even know we were together,” Todd mutters, and I laugh, watching as the locksmith pushes the door open and Todd moves back, cautious.
“Does it look safe?” I ask, craning my neck to try and see inside.
“Fucking hell,” the locksmith breathes, wandering in and gazing around.
“What? What is it?” Todd rushes in after him and gasps, as I follow on behind. “The fucking bitch!” He stomps into what can only be described as carnage. It’s a fucking mess. The couch has been slashed, the walls are covered in—
“Is that dog shit?” I get a waft of a god-awful smell and pinch my nose, moving back out of his apartment. Oh Jesus, it’s rancid.
“What did you do to her, my friend?” The locksmith joins me on the other side of the door, covering his face with his palm.
“I can’t believe she’s done this.” Todd grabs a scrap of material off the floor and gapes at it. “My Vivian Westwood shirt!” He covers his face with it and runs through to his bedroom, shouting when he arrives there. “She’s shredded the fucking lot.” He appears back in the open-plan living area, eyes wide with shock. “All my clothes. They’re ruined.” In a bit of a daze, he wanders through to the kitchen. I face the stench and trail him, entering the kitchen to find it looking like a bomb has gone off. Every glass, plate, and piece of dinnerware is smashed to smithereens, and red lipstick covers every cupboard door spelling out every derogatory name under the sun.
“Well, at least she’s gone,” I quip lightly.
“That’s it,” Todd barks. “I’m fucking celibate from now on. You stick your dick in a woman these days, they confuse it for a fucking proposal. I’m done.” He turns into me and grabs the front of my jacket, bunching it in his fists. “Don’t let me sleep with another woman ever. Do you hear me?”
“You’re a fucking joke.” I push his hands off, taking in more carnage. “Did she cut all the strings on your blinds?” I ask, wandering over to the wall of windows on the other side of the kitchen, where there are a million wooden slats hanging haphazardly. I turn to find Todd with his head in his hands. “This is going to cost a fortune.” I motion to what’s left of his apartment and belongings. “Would’ve been cheaper to marry her.”
