CHAPTER TEN
"The truth will set you free," David smiled at the last contract he needed. Joanne had proven herself more than capable over the last few months.
"Hypocrisy at its finest," Jo intoned. She watched him from his desk.
David looked from the contract to Joanne, "what's that saying takes one to know one."
The party goers had dispersed around one. Jo had watched from a discrete distance while Blair took her place at Randall's side. They were a perfect match in stature, money, and looks. Throughout their school days Blair yearned for the knight in shining armor. Jo knew enough about Randall that he was everything Blair could have wanted in a husband. David spoke highly of the man, as if he was already a part of the family. He did it on purpose knowing Jo broke up with Blair on her own volition. Now she sat by and watched the consequences of her actions.
She had the power to end her suffering and Blair's. She wanted to be clean for Blair, to hold her without damning thoughts. Their love was a living breathing entity that couldn't be killed by hurtful words, actions, or petty vengeance. She had that much faith in them. If she said it aloud she would wince at the romance of her words. It was so out of character of her to indulge in. It was something of Blair she kept.
Remy resumed his position on the couch studying the sparring pair. Jo attacked with open hostility and David parried using cold derision.
David trained his gaze on the contract again. "Blair looked lovely this evening don't you think Remy?"
The driver was apprehensive to answer and as if sensing this, David explained he meant on the arm of Randall Weller. "If you say so Mr. Warner," he admitted impartially. Jo shook her head at the wimp of the man who worried too much about his paycheck.
"What do you think Joanne my daughter and one of the most eligible bachelors in business?" It grated her nerves when he called her Joanne. It pissed her off when he brought up Blair and a dime a dozen suitor from their circle. It wasn't in her to keep her mouth shut, even though her mouth was the root of things gone wrong in her life. David was daring her to challenge his match for his daughter. And when it came to challenges a Polniaczek didn't have the good sense to back down.
"They looked like paper board cut outs in expensive clothes."
"Is that a hint of bitterness I hear Joanne?" David teased.
Remy knew no good was going to come of this conversation.
"I think your projecting I'm just callin' it how I see it," her accent thickened slightly.
David turned his full attention to her, interested in how Joanne saw it. While Remy shifted uncomfortably from the couch.
Jo smiled smugly, "Your perfect daughter fell in love with the streetwise polish kid, you gave a rich kid education to. People ain't as cut and dry as one of your business deals. If it weren't for you, me and Blair never would've met." The smile widened, "You gave her a world, but she'd give up in a heartbeat to be with me."
When Remy saw David's face darken he knew Jo had struck a nerve. The woman had a skill, but Remy had only witnessed David at his most poised when she attacked. The man was infallible until it came to his daughter. He loved her enough to give her everything she'd ever asked so she would never know disappointment. As far as emotions were concerned David was at a loss to the pull of his daughter's heart to Joanne.
"What makes you smug? You were a pawn that forgot her place."
Every fight, every feeling of displacement, all her rage toward the rich branched, but didn't originate, from a chance meeting with a man who thought he could wield fate.
"The princess and the pawn," Jo stated whimsically, "sounds kinda romantic don't it?"
David Warner had chosen Jo. Her mother made the deal to have Jo shipped off to babysit a spoiled brat. To the casual onlooker the origin of Jo's dislike for Blair looked like it came from their first meeting. Others could even speculate that it was their personalities and station that immediately clashed. The truth, outside of their disastrous introduction, was that Jo had already been introduced to Blair Warner, or rather a file on her.
Rose encouraged her to see the bright side. While she was there the education she received could be used for a life her mother couldn't afford. Her mother asked with words, but pled with her eyes for Jo to make this sacrifice to her pride. Jo played along. But like Dave said, somewhere along the way she forgot. Beyond the spoiled, selfish, faux blonde debutante was a girl just as flawed and in dire need to be loved. They went beyond the shaky truce that opened the door to their friendship and fell in love. David Warner had to live with the fact that he was the reason for that.
The older man, with great care, put the contract he'd been admiring back into the yellow envelope. He strode over to his desk and opened it with a key placing it with the others. He paused beside her and Jo considered he might strike her, but that would be out of character. The man was an incurable control junkie.
"I would imagine unconditional love from someone like Blair is a comforting thought. She's infatuated with the idea of you but we know the truth Joanne. I paid for a playmate and you surpassed my expectations. Everything she is her noble, honest, trustworthy Joanne helped her become. Do you want that to come into question if it were ever found out why you were her friend?"
Jo fixed her gaze on him. He could be bluffing. David continued, "I would admit my culpability and be forgiven because I am her father. But honest and noble Joanne do you think you would be as easily pardoned?" He repeated honest and noble with ridicule.
Her secret was a decade old. No moment felt right for the truth. To be honest Jo had even forgotten about it until David Warner made it his mission to remind her. Would Blair love her after that? The blonde had romanticized their whole relationship. Jo helped break that fantasy with broken promises and her actions of late. Even still Blair was determined to love her. Was the truth strong enough to end them?
The consternation rolling off Joanne in waves was enough for David to be sated. Insecurity and uncertainty would fertilize the seed of doubt.
Jo didn't go home that night. Thanks to Blair she had all the perverts of New York camped out on her doorstep. Teodor had mechanics on rotation and she had two days of down time. She could have ignored the rules and went in without hassle. No, while tonight she knew it was very late, the door she headed to was always open to her.
After ringing the buzzer to 312 for over five minutes the owner finally buzzed Jo in. Climbing up the stairs the door was partially open for her. Jo shook her head. She always warned Tootie about doing that. What if some psycho happened to be roaming the halls and saw it open? What if some careless tenant let Cujo out and he attacked under the cover of night? Those kinds of macabre thoughts ran through Jo's mind with abandon. A hazard of the job was an overactive imagination in one's personal life.
She took off her jacket hanging it in the closet after she secured the door shut and locked it. She looked over at the counter facing the door and eyed the sleepy woman sitting on a stool. She didn't say anything. Jo took for granted her relationship with her friends of late. Their niceties transcended making words like 'hello' and 'how are you doing' unimportant when moods spoke volumes. Jo washed her hands then opened the fridge silently staking claim to leftovers. The box was still a quarter of the way full. The pizzeria had been a happy mistake they found near the studio of Tootie's set. The microwave was faster and more convenient but she liked the oven taste better.
Tootie yawned. Her hair was tied up in a multicolored wrap. Her striped pajama pants were stained from bleach and her white shirt was ripped at the shoulder hanging off. The paparazzi would have eaten up Dorothy Ramsey's down to earth alter ego.
Scratching the point of her nose she stared at Jo curiously. Jo hadn't been by this late, or rather this early, in a long time as she acknowledged it was two in the morning. Tootie asked what was up as if to not make a big deal of her presence. Jo's first response was on the tip of her tongue. Taking a second look at her young friend she thought better of it.
"I'm in love with a woman I don't deserve," Jo stared in the direction of the oven as she spoke. She welcomed the smell of pizza warming.
"Do what you need to deserve her," she answered simply through a yawn.
Jo turned her head moving her gaze to the tiled floor. She could try to tell Tootie the truth. Would the young woman hate her afterwards like she knew Blair would? If she was making any confessions tonight she wouldn't be sober. She walked over to Tootie's stash. She had questioned whether the actress had a problem she failed to mention when she first discovered it. The younger woman laughed it off blaming her friends, who were self proclaimed lushes. They were determined to convert her hence the plethora of liquor.
Pulling down a bottle of vodka she looked to Tootie questioningly. The actress acquiesced. Her eyebrows shot up interest when Jo turned back to her an extra tumbler. Jo smirked sliding it towards her friend after pouring a modest amount with orange juice and ice.
"You wouldn't let one of your oldest friends drink alone would'ya?" Jo teased sipping from her glass.
Tootie rolled her eyes but obliged her friend taking a reserved sip.
Jo shook her head smiling endearingly at the woman she considered her little sister. The room filled with the smell of the warming pizza. Smiling to herself when she refilled Tootie's drink and hers she retrieved the food carefully. Tootie started giggling behind her.
"Something funny light weight?" the mechanic pulled off the burgundy gloves. She eyed the drink and then her friend.
"Give me a little more credit than that," Tootie came around to fan the food. She was hungry too. "You remember when you moved into your place?"
The brunettes' eyes smiled in recognition—a chuckle followed. "Ugh that was a mess," she shook her head in memory. "The first time we all had dinner together at my place."
"Boxes everywhere nothing in the fridge, so we got the bright idea for…what was it?" She paused in thought.
"Her highness wanted the occasion to be very special. She ordered take out from her favorite Italian place."
"You remember the look on the guy's face when you let him in?"
Jo bit into her pizza chewing carefully from the heat and around her laugh. Then she stopped mid chew imitating the lost look on the delivery boys face, "uh…Warner?"
Tootie, who had commandeered her own piece, was mid swallow when she choked at the hilarious memory. She doubled over choking until it graduated to a chortle. She leaned up holding onto the counter for support.
"It was the cake!" Tootie gasped between laughs.
The former rookie's home warming gift had been a cake made with love from Natalie and Tootie. Blair's schedule wouldn't allow her to partake in the cake making. She figured she could make up for her absence by paying for dinner. The cake had arrived innocuously enough and the friends were catching up with familiar banter and horror stories from work. In a series of strange events that could be disputed by either friend on how it started, a cake fight ensued. And the delivery boy, poor guy, walked into it all. No surface was left untouched and that included body parts and clothes.
Pizza and mixed drinks were the only provisions old friends needed for the long side-splitting road down memory lane. It was close to the morning hours for the sun to rise when they were sated with pizza and booze. "I love Blair," Jo groaned aloud uninhibited and hurting. Tootie was sober enough to pull her friend into her arms and hold her. She didn't know the specifics of what was ailing Jo. Her friend had chosen a happy stupor to hide behind tonight and now after the last of the giggling had died down she crashed. Jo cried. She held onto Tootie and cried for love, Blair, her life and everything that had gone wrong in it. Jo fell asleep being held like a child and Tootie followed soon after lulled by Jo's breathing.
Six hours of sleep later keys jingled in the door.
Natalie pushed the door open and Blair followed behind. It was Tootie's day off and she and Natalie planned an intervention. Of course, it was under the guise of a homemade lunch. It hadn't occurred to her that all her calls earlier had gone unanswered because Tootie was passed out.
Following the trail of booze and pizza Jo lay on top of Tootie while the younger woman kept a protective arm around her sleeping companion. If Blair had been of sound mind and taken in consideration that Tootie was very straight and Jo considered her a sister her version of a wakeup call would have been different.
Michael Jackson's 'Dirty Diana' rang from the stereo at full volume. Blair hadn't known what song was set next to play but she was pleased with the selection. Mr. Jackson's strong vocals and the strong rhythm wouldn't be kind to hangovers. Jo sprang to her knees alert. Tootie's eyes sprang open until they closed quickly. Her hands covered her ears to try to shut out the noise. Natalie jumped even though she saw Blair turn the knob to max before she pressed play.
"What the…." Jo groaned backing herself up against the couch trying to retreat from the music.
When they were fully awake writhing in pain she turned the stereo off. In a sickeningly sweet voice laced in venom she greeted them with a good morning.
Both sets of eyes squinted in her direction. "Blair," Jo belched sitting on the couch only to lay back on it.
"I hope Natalie and I aren't interrupting," the blonde growled. If either were less concerned about their throbbing heads they would have questioned the tone.
Natalie did some questioning of her own silently.
"Oh it's too bright," Tootie put her arms over her eyes to thwart the sun.
"That happens in the middle of the day… the sun," Natalie helped sardonically.
"Crap," Jo groaned making no move to rise, "what time is it?"
"Around noon," the columnist supplied. Jo groaned even louder.
"I can whip up my not yet patented Greene hangover remedy," Natalie said over her shoulder heading collecting ingredients.
Tootie glared from her position on the floor, at the woman making too much noise in the kitchen. Jo was leaned back with her eyes closed. It looked like she'd gone back to sleeping, when it was actually a ploy to avoid Blair's gaze. A lot of things were left unsaid from last night and long before that.
Blair took off her coat becoming as comfortable as she could. The accusation in her head didn't make much sense to her, but she couldn't get the image of Tootie holding Jo out of her head. The scene had been so intimate. For a long time Blair prided herself in being the only one, who could hold Jo that way. And now, she sighed inwardly, now it seemed that she'd been replaced. She scanned the room and the leftovers from that night and the empty bottles and glasses.
"What were you guys celebrating last night?" She picked up the empty bottle.
"Yea and why weren't we invited," Natalie returned bearing gifts. Natalie smiled proudly at her concoction. It had been her own personal project for a paper she was writing for her creative writing class in college. A simple survey of drinking college students turned into several in depth conversations about hangover remedy mixes. It would have been imprudent of her not to test each despite how questionable they were. Eventually her research led her to her own mix. From her project came her concoction she endearingly named Glenda.
The offending smell made Jo jerk away from it. Tootie eyed the color in the glass about to decline it on principle. "Drink up," Natalie gestured with her hands with encouragement. "It helps if you just down it and don't think about the smell, or the taste, or the consistency, and…."
"We get it!" Jo groaned from her seat. Closing her eyes they folded deeper with the first swallow. "Ugh, what the hell Greene?" her hand went to her mouth and then at the horrendous beverage.
"Don't underestimate Glenda," Natalie nodded towards her drink.
"Who?" Tootie frowned over the rim of her glass. Natalie grinned proudly at the container holding a large swallow that didn't fit in either of her friend's glasses.
"She would name the drink," Jo shook her head stopping as soon as she felt the error of her ways.
"Really Nat?" Blair eyed the proud woman, "Glenda?"
"From the Wizard of Oz," Natalie explained. "I thought it was clever."
The drink was thick. If had been anyone but Natalie to make it they wouldn't have endured the taste.
Tootie had been holding Jo. Like they had…. She didn't want to finish the thought. To lose Jo to someone else was unbearable. To lose Jo to someone she loved like family that was beyond unbearable.
Blair took cursory looks at her watch as Jo and Tootie struggled with the drink. Natalie cheesed like a proud parent and didn't notice. Sighing heavily she stood up theatrically making a fuss of putting her coat back on.
"Where you going?" Natalie asked quickly. The reason for their being there forgotten until now.
"I came to have lunch not babysit drunk and drunker," she left quickly. All three eyes looked after her. Jo almost got up to follow her, almost.