The rainy turmoil of Friday evening had faded away in the darkness of
night. When the morning sun rose over the city, it was met with a crisp
wind and clear skies.
As the first rays of sunshine threw their brightness upon Philip, he stirred only a little. He had barely been asleep for three hours and was hardly ready to face a day that promised to be full of unkind repercussions. However, Philip found the prospect of waking much more desirable when he felt a soft hand swipe his blonde locks away from his forehead.
Philip's eyes fluttered open and he stretched as best he could within the confines of his car's driver's seat. Looking across the car at his passenger, Philip groggily whispered, "Hello."
"Hey," Sinclair replied from her own reclined seat. Like Philip she was doing her very best to stretch her tired muscles despite the lack of space inside the Firebird.
Nodding his head toward the view of the city below Lookout Point, Philip softly bragged, "I told you sunrise would be beautiful from up here."
Sinclair did not bother to look in the sun's direction as she beguilingly replied, "So it is."
For the very first time since he had glimpsed Sinclair on Halloween, Philip stopped to truly observe her. Reveling in each detail of his companion, Philip found himself drawn to her eyes. They seemed to mesmerize him just as Chloe's once had. Though his exterior showed little or no sign of humor, Philip found himself strangely amused by the power girls wielded with their pretty blue eyes.
Sinclair's hair was slightly shorter than shoulder length, cut in a stylish manner that subtly framed her face. It was dark brown and seemed illuminated as the rising sun kissed it with bright rays.
A trendy black leather skirt revealed a great deal of her legs while a matching fitted jacket provided a contrast as it covered what appeared to be a long-sleeved blue dress blouse. Adding to the stylish ensemble were Sinclair's black boots, a style of which Jason often referred to as hooker boots. Finishing off Sinclair's list of clothing was the brown suede jacket Philip had been wearing under his rain coat the night before. Though it hardly went with what she was wearing, Philip found it to be the item he was most happy to see her in.
Finally asking the question that had been haunting him since the end of October, Philip asked, "So, do you want to tell me why you followed me to Titan?"
A defensive scowl draped itself over Sinclair's face, "You were the one that jumped into the elevator with me."
"You were the one that was lurking around at a Halloween party you weren't even invited to."
"You were the one that stood outside gawking at me like you'd never seen a girl before."
Philip quickly opened his mouth to argue against Sinclair's point, but he soon realized that there was no case he could make against the truth. Partially conceding, he finally responded, "You surprised me that night. I wasn't expecting to go outside for air and run into some girl dressed up like a genie."
"For God's sake, Philip. It looked like it was a costume party. I would think you'd be more surprised to see someone not dressed up."
Again, Philip found himself without a solid line of reasoning. Deciding to attack from a more advantageous point, Philip stated, "You never did tell me why you were at that party or at Titan." Adding one more point to his argument, Philip continued, "Or, why you were standing outside St. Luke's that night."
"That, my dear, is none of your business."
Philip stopped himself from disputing that he had a right to know because she had first appeared at his home and then later at his father's workplace. It appeared that Sinclair was oblivious to the fact that she was casually arguing with the heir to the Kiriakis fortune. Philip could not help but think of the situation as his one chance to earn someone's approval and trust without worrying about that person only liking him because of his family's fortune.
Philip immediately dropped any pretense of quarrelling. Taking a hesitant look at his watch, Philip realized that it was past time to put off the inevitable. He was certain that his father had already sent out Nico to find him since he had not returned home last night and had not bothered to call with an explanation. In fact, Victor very well may had already called Bo to pressure the police department into taking action.
Reaching his hand to the ignition, Philip gave a turn of the key. As the car's engine came to life, Philip reluctantly said, "I suppose we each need to be heading home."
"I suppose."
Philip was caught off guard by the indifference in Sinclair's voice. She honestly sounded as though she hardly cared to go home and face what consequences might meet her. "If you can give me directions, I'll drive you home."
"Don't worry about it. My car is still at Titan so I should go pick it up."
"As you wish," Philip responded, slightly disappointed that he would not get the chance to spend the added time with his newest acquaintance.
Fifteen minutes later, Philip pulled his car into the Titan-owned parking garage. Navigating through the darkened aisles of vehicles, Philip came to an abrupt stop upon Sinclair's request.
Philip was happily surprised when the brunette quickly leaned across the console and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. After pulling away, Sinclair motioned to the only car on their right and declared, "That one's mine."
"You're kidding," Philip incredulously responded as he eyed the solar yellow 2000 Toyota MR2 Spyder.
Opening the door and stepping out of Philip's car, Sinclair simply responded, "I must admit, I bear a charmed life."
Only seconds after Sinclair shut the door and began walking toward her car, Philip pressed the button to bring down the passenger window. "Sinclair . . ."
"Yes?"
"I'll see you around."
The brunette allowed herself to openly smile as the window went back up and Philip made the loop and began to drive out of the parking area. Sinclair had a feeling that Salem might not be as boring as she had expected.
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
Zach's bare feet softly thudded across the Masters' kitchen floor as he walked to the cabinet to retrieve a bowl. Finding one he deemed to be of suitable depth and shape, Zach carried it to the table where Jason was already seated.
"Hey," Zach grumbled as his morning greeting. "You know it's way too early for either of us to be up on a Saturday morning, right?"
Adding milk to his Fruit Loops, Jason responded, "You couldn't sleep either, huh?"
"Nah, too much to not think about."
Jason smirked at his friend's comment but gave no reply of his own. He watched in silence as Zach poured a healthy dose of the fruity cereal into own bowl and began to devour the food with his fingers.
"You know we have spoons, right? And, the milk's right here . . ."
"No, thanks. I don't drink milk with my cereal. Lactose intolerant."
Jason's spoon stopped roughly halfway on its journey to his mouth. Nothing seemed to unnerve the teen more than friends who casually threw out unnecessary information. "Please tell me you don't say things like that when you're trying to charm the ladies."
Looking at his closest pal with tired eyes, Zach pleaded, "Let's not talk about girls, okay?"
"No problem," Jason gladly agreed. However, his curiosity quickly got the best of him as he soon asked, "So, why exactly don't you want to talk about girls? I thought that was your favorite subject, Casanova."
"Just drop it."
The unwarranted tension in Zach's voice only served to increase Jason's curiosity. His eyes going wide and his cereal long forgotten, Jason asked, "Does this have something to do with why you and Belle were together last night when we found you? Ah, man! Were you macking on Shawn's girlfriend?"
"Damn it, Jason. I said to drop it."
"What the hell's got you so defensive, Wesley?"
"If you're in such a mood to talk, why don't you tell me what went down between you and Mimi?" Zach grinned smugly when Jason snapped his mouth shut and wordlessly poured more cereal into his bowl. "I thought you wanted to talk. You know, share our feelings like a bunch of girls."
Jason heatedly dropped his spoon down onto the table. "You really want to know? I got caught up in some make-believe moment and made a stupid mistake. That's what happened with me and Mimi last night."
"Funny, that's exactly what happened to me," Zach quietly replied, any previous hostility erased from his voice. After plopping a few fruit loops into his mouth, he prodded, "So, you tell me how you ended up at the corner of Elm and Franklin last night, and I'll tell you how I got there."
"And, this conversation goes no further than this kitchen?"
"Of course."
"Deal," Jason agreed, thankful to be able to unload the worries that had woken him so early in the morning. "It all started when I actually trusted Philip and went to help him with some project at Titan."
"What was the project?"
"There wasn't one. Philip was just dragging me over there so he could lock me in some storage closet with Mimi. Anyway, while we were locked up in there we started talking about all this stuff and . . . I ended up saying something I shouldn't have."
Zach slowly shook his head, tossing Jason a saddened look. "Please tell me you didn't sing another song about wanting to have sex with her."
"No," crossly countered Jason, his cheeks becoming slightly redder as he remembered the embarrassing incident that only furthered Mimi from him. "I sorta said that . . . iwasinlovewithher."
Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Zach requested, "Could you repeat that? Only, this time, trying slowing down and using actual syllables."
Pushing his bowl aside, Jason slowly admitted, "I told Mimi that I was in love with her."
His mouth gradually dropping open and then closing, Zach stared at Jason in pure disbelief. With deliberate movements, Zach carefully dropped his spoon into his bowl. Mimicking Jason's earlier action, Zach pushed the bowl off to his left. He then rested his arms where his bowl had been sitting, his fingers on his right hand intertwined with those on his left hand.
Zach's eyes were still wide with surprise as he asked for clarification. "So, you told Mimi Lockhart that you're falling in love with her . . . in a storage closet . . . that Philip locked you in . . . after you've ignored the girl all week long . . . "
Nodding his head, Jason answered, "Yeah, pretty much."
Zach, nodding his head as well, asked, "What did she say?"
"Not a thing." The expression on Jason's face changed just slightly as he told the final part of his story. "As soon as it slipped out, a janitor opened the door and Mimi darted out. I just stood there while she ran down the hall."
As though he was listening to an ancient fairy tale, Zach asked, "Then what happened?"
"Mimi started hitting the down button for the elevator, but nothing happened. So, she took the stairs. I don't think I've ever seen her move that fast, Zach. After I finally decided to go after her, I wasn't even able to catch up with her until we were nearly back to the first floor."
"Don't stop there - keep going."
Jason pushed his chair back and lifted his bowl and spoon. As he walked toward the sink, he responded, "There's not much more to say. Philip was no where to be found, so I told Mimi that I would drive her home. She didn't exactly look happy about it, but she didn't argue with me, either. Once we got in the truck, she didn't say anything until we spotted your car on the side of the road." Returning to the table, Jason concluded, "There you have it - the story of how I made a fool of myself last night. Now, let's hear your story."
Zach, slightly comforted by the simple fact that Jason just might understand his predicament, replied, "As you know, Belle waited on Friday afternoon for me to drive her home. After we left the school, I had to go to the hospital first and pick up some grocery money from Craig because he and Nancy were about to leave for a medical conference in Houston. Then, Belle was getting really hungry so we stopped at the Brady Pub for dinner. By the time we finished eating, the weather was already getting bad."
As he listened intently, Jason carelessly grabbed the box of cereal and tossed it into the cabinet. "I know the two of you must have gotten a little wet leaving the pub, but when Mimi and I found you guys sitting in the car, you were soaked. What? Did you two get bored and decide to go for a nice stroll during a severe storm?"
"Not quite. We were actually lucky because it wasn't raining very hard when my car broke down. Sure, I got kinda wet when I got out to look under the hood, but it wasn't that bad."
While Zach finally found the required energy to get up and carry his empty bowl to the sink, he continued his narrative. "About ten minutes after I got back in the car, Belle and I decided to try and make it back to pub. We were hoping if we cut through the park, we could get back there before the storm worsened."
Jason shook his head as though he were a disappointed parent. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. With a wave of his hand, he signaled for his friend to continue. After all, he had a strong feeling that Zach could not have cared less about getting to the Brady Pub. Jason's guess was that Zach was merely looking for a good time.
"To make a long story short, the weather kept getting worse, so we ducked inside that gazebo on the east side of the park. I can't remember exactly what we said, but Belle and I were disagreeing on some stuff."
Zach purposely failed to mention that the cause for the disagreement had been none other than Jason and Mimi. Continuing without any further details about the difference of opinion, Zach said, "It wasn't like we were having a serious argument, we were just disagreeing and, ah, hell, I don't know what happened. I was just looking at her and she was standing there soaking wet. I swear, I've never seen a cold, shivering girl look that sexy."
Jason rolled his eyes with a smile. "I thought you said that whatever went down last night was a mistake."
"It was." The seriousness tainting Zach's voice surprised Jason. "We were so close to each other and . . . I don't know what I was thinking . . . I just kissed her."
"And, you liked it, right?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it'll ever happen again. We both know what a good girl Belle is. Then, there's the fact that she's convinced she belongs with Shawn Brady who just happens to be nearly as flawless as Belle is. He's the guy that says 'I love you,' and I'm the guy that isn't even sure he believes in love."
"Okay, back to that kiss . . ."
Glaring at Jason, Zach wearily replied, "What about it?"
Jason's eyebrows lifted in mischievous arches. "Was it a french kiss . . . how long did it last . . . was she kissing you back . . . and, most importantly, where were your hands?"
Once Jason had finished with his barrage of questions, Zach merely stared back at him. Never had Zachary Wesley been one to kiss and tell. The act of simply informing Jason that he had kissed Belle went against Zach's normal tendencies. Though most thought of him as a so-called player, few ever heard the actual accounts of Zach's rumored romances.
"Well?"
Finally giving a response, Zach stated vaguely, "The kiss was a mistake. End of story."
Jason, surprising his friend, accepted the answer without any further cross- examination. "You think there's any chance things won't be strange on Monday?"
"Not a chance."
"You think anyone else got into this much of a mess last night?"
"Again, not a chance. Philip was obviously too busy playing matchmaker to have any adventures of his own. Chloe and Brady were probably at home doing some boring married thing."
Cleverly concealing a smirk, Jason asked, "What about Shawn? Where do you think he was last night?"
"Hopefully not anywhere with a view of the gazebo," Zach laughed. "The only thing that would be worse than kissing someone else's main squeeze would be getting caught."
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
Brady paused in the doorway to the kitchen, his mind inadvertently plagued by memories of the night before. He had spent most of his night awake, replaying the unkind sight of his new bride kissing Shawn in the darkened kitchen. It was an image that seemed to be burned in his brain.
Entering the room, Brady found his lovely wife seated at the kitchen table, her full attention being given to reading the morning newspaper. Without bothering to greet Chloe, Brady shuffled across the room and opened the freezer door. Once he had retrieved an individually packaged frozen sausage and biscuit, he harshly slammed the door shut.
Chloe lifted her eyebrows with curiosity as she turned to watch Brady haphazardly throw the sausage and biscuit into the microwave. Proffering an unsolicited peace offering, Chloe said, "I made enough French toast and waffles for both of us."
"Yeah, well, I'm really not in the mood for any of that stuff."
"Suit yourself," responded Chloe. If Brady wanted to behave like an obstinate child, she would let him. She had no idea what could have put him in such a bad mood so early in the day, but she refused to worry herself with his tantrum.
As the microwave's timer unleashed a shrill beep, Chloe redirected her attention to the newspaper's Saturday edition. Meanwhile, Brady pulled his meager breakfast from the microwave and quickly devoured it.
Chloe lightly shook her head as she glimpsed Brady returning to the refrigerator and pulling out the orange juice. As though he was purposely trying to aggravate Chloe, Brady forwent using an actual glass and guzzled the liquid straight from the plastic container. Refusing to give in to Brady's silent goading, Chloe gave no response. Yet, she could not help but think that the actions were very uncharacteristic of Brady. In fact, such childish actions seemed to be much more the style of someone like Jason or Zach.
The sound of the chiming doorbell saved the tense couple from having to try and make conversation. Roughly setting the juice back into the fridge, Brady grumbled, "I'll get it."
As he walked out of the room, Brady silently cursed Chloe for being able to look so attractive when he was fuming mad at her. His long legs quickly crossed the small living room and reached the door in near record time.
An unhappy scowl fell across Brady's face once he opened the door. Looking at Shawn unhappily, Brady merely rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut. He was certainly not in the mood to deal with wife-stealing cousins who happened to live next-door.
When Brady returned to the kitchen, Chloe casually asked, "Who was at the door?"
"Wrong number."
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
The November sun was almost directly overhead when Jason and Zach arrived at the Wesley home. The guys had been going stir crazy at Jason's house and, upon Catherine's insistence that they stop moping around the house, had left to go play basketball. That had lasted about as long as it took the two to realize that the cold front had knocked the temperatures down into the forties.
Not being creatures that adored the cold, the teens had ultimately decided to go to Zach's house to complete a task that Zach had looked forward to since Chloe's engagement announcement. It was finally time to move out of the former guest room and into Chloe's old bedroom - a room with the added feature of a tree outside the window.
"I didn't think Chloe would ever get all of her stuff moved out," commented Zach while taking down some of the clothes hanging in his soon-to-be old closet. Laying the garments across the bed, Zach then began to toss his shoes into a large cardboard box.
Jason's eyes narrowed with curiosity and bemusement as Zach tossed the ninth pair of shoes into the box. As usual, he was unable to keep his comical remarks to himself. "Even my baby sister doesn't own that many pairs of shoes. I swear you have to be the prissiest guy I've ever met. You act more like a vain girl than most girls I know." Hitting his pal where he knew it would hurt, Jason taunted, "I bet you even own more hair products than most girls."
"Since when has it been a crime to look good?" Having taken care of all his shoes, Zach moved to the dresser and began arbitrarily throwing garments into another large box. "Let me get all this stuff in a box, and then you can help me carry it to my new room."
"Gee, how will I ever thank you for such an honor?"
"Don't mention it."
Watching Zach throw the final pair of boxers into the last cardboard box, Jason commented, "Don't expect me to carry that one."
"Fine, carry this one," commanded Zach as he placed the collection of shoes in Jason's arms. He then threw the clothes on hangers over his own arm and picked up the remaining box. "Let's go."
Seconds later Jason graciously opened the door for Zach, who was carrying the heftier load. Upon entering the bedroom, the young men received the shock of a lifetime.
Two fair-sized cardboard boxes were on the bare bed and another three were placed on the floor near the window. Meanwhile, two small duffle bags were perched on the window seat . . . along with something about 5'5" and 115 pounds.
Jason, clearly more surprised by the intruder than Zach, loudly mused, "What the hell . . ."
Zach dropped his box to the floor and allowed the clothing to fall on top of it. "No way. This is my room."
"Well, judging from all of my boxes that are already in here, I'd say you're too late, Zachary." Flashing Zach a deviously brilliant smile, the girl returned to her task of emptying her bags.
Whining like a child having to share his favorite toy, Zach retorted, "But, I've been waiting for this room forever."
"Forever? Honestly, you sound like a five year-old with those exaggerations."
"And, you sound like Nancy with that tone," countered Zach.
A disgruntled look passed over the young woman's face but was quickly replaced with a self-assured smirk. "Speaking of Nancy, she wouldn't happen to know about me having to pick you up at the police station, does she? Or, maybe you have told her about that. And, I'm sure you've also gotten around to telling Nancy about that pesky escapade involving you borrowing her car when she and Craig went to visit you for your fourteenth birthday. If I'm not mistaken, that would be the time you put a scratch up the side of the car and I helped you blame it on the neighbors."
Giving in to the blackmail, Zach grumbled, "Fine, you can have this bedroom. You probably won't be able to put up with Craig and Nancy for a week anyway."
A grin passed between Zach and his acquaintance that proved neither was at all angry about the conversation or its outcome.
After being silent during the squabble, Jason finally spoke. "So, I take it you two know each other."
"You could say that." Motioning toward the pretty brunette, Zach introduced, "Jason Masters, I'd like you to meet Sinclair - my sister."
As the first rays of sunshine threw their brightness upon Philip, he stirred only a little. He had barely been asleep for three hours and was hardly ready to face a day that promised to be full of unkind repercussions. However, Philip found the prospect of waking much more desirable when he felt a soft hand swipe his blonde locks away from his forehead.
Philip's eyes fluttered open and he stretched as best he could within the confines of his car's driver's seat. Looking across the car at his passenger, Philip groggily whispered, "Hello."
"Hey," Sinclair replied from her own reclined seat. Like Philip she was doing her very best to stretch her tired muscles despite the lack of space inside the Firebird.
Nodding his head toward the view of the city below Lookout Point, Philip softly bragged, "I told you sunrise would be beautiful from up here."
Sinclair did not bother to look in the sun's direction as she beguilingly replied, "So it is."
For the very first time since he had glimpsed Sinclair on Halloween, Philip stopped to truly observe her. Reveling in each detail of his companion, Philip found himself drawn to her eyes. They seemed to mesmerize him just as Chloe's once had. Though his exterior showed little or no sign of humor, Philip found himself strangely amused by the power girls wielded with their pretty blue eyes.
Sinclair's hair was slightly shorter than shoulder length, cut in a stylish manner that subtly framed her face. It was dark brown and seemed illuminated as the rising sun kissed it with bright rays.
A trendy black leather skirt revealed a great deal of her legs while a matching fitted jacket provided a contrast as it covered what appeared to be a long-sleeved blue dress blouse. Adding to the stylish ensemble were Sinclair's black boots, a style of which Jason often referred to as hooker boots. Finishing off Sinclair's list of clothing was the brown suede jacket Philip had been wearing under his rain coat the night before. Though it hardly went with what she was wearing, Philip found it to be the item he was most happy to see her in.
Finally asking the question that had been haunting him since the end of October, Philip asked, "So, do you want to tell me why you followed me to Titan?"
A defensive scowl draped itself over Sinclair's face, "You were the one that jumped into the elevator with me."
"You were the one that was lurking around at a Halloween party you weren't even invited to."
"You were the one that stood outside gawking at me like you'd never seen a girl before."
Philip quickly opened his mouth to argue against Sinclair's point, but he soon realized that there was no case he could make against the truth. Partially conceding, he finally responded, "You surprised me that night. I wasn't expecting to go outside for air and run into some girl dressed up like a genie."
"For God's sake, Philip. It looked like it was a costume party. I would think you'd be more surprised to see someone not dressed up."
Again, Philip found himself without a solid line of reasoning. Deciding to attack from a more advantageous point, Philip stated, "You never did tell me why you were at that party or at Titan." Adding one more point to his argument, Philip continued, "Or, why you were standing outside St. Luke's that night."
"That, my dear, is none of your business."
Philip stopped himself from disputing that he had a right to know because she had first appeared at his home and then later at his father's workplace. It appeared that Sinclair was oblivious to the fact that she was casually arguing with the heir to the Kiriakis fortune. Philip could not help but think of the situation as his one chance to earn someone's approval and trust without worrying about that person only liking him because of his family's fortune.
Philip immediately dropped any pretense of quarrelling. Taking a hesitant look at his watch, Philip realized that it was past time to put off the inevitable. He was certain that his father had already sent out Nico to find him since he had not returned home last night and had not bothered to call with an explanation. In fact, Victor very well may had already called Bo to pressure the police department into taking action.
Reaching his hand to the ignition, Philip gave a turn of the key. As the car's engine came to life, Philip reluctantly said, "I suppose we each need to be heading home."
"I suppose."
Philip was caught off guard by the indifference in Sinclair's voice. She honestly sounded as though she hardly cared to go home and face what consequences might meet her. "If you can give me directions, I'll drive you home."
"Don't worry about it. My car is still at Titan so I should go pick it up."
"As you wish," Philip responded, slightly disappointed that he would not get the chance to spend the added time with his newest acquaintance.
Fifteen minutes later, Philip pulled his car into the Titan-owned parking garage. Navigating through the darkened aisles of vehicles, Philip came to an abrupt stop upon Sinclair's request.
Philip was happily surprised when the brunette quickly leaned across the console and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. After pulling away, Sinclair motioned to the only car on their right and declared, "That one's mine."
"You're kidding," Philip incredulously responded as he eyed the solar yellow 2000 Toyota MR2 Spyder.
Opening the door and stepping out of Philip's car, Sinclair simply responded, "I must admit, I bear a charmed life."
Only seconds after Sinclair shut the door and began walking toward her car, Philip pressed the button to bring down the passenger window. "Sinclair . . ."
"Yes?"
"I'll see you around."
The brunette allowed herself to openly smile as the window went back up and Philip made the loop and began to drive out of the parking area. Sinclair had a feeling that Salem might not be as boring as she had expected.
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
Zach's bare feet softly thudded across the Masters' kitchen floor as he walked to the cabinet to retrieve a bowl. Finding one he deemed to be of suitable depth and shape, Zach carried it to the table where Jason was already seated.
"Hey," Zach grumbled as his morning greeting. "You know it's way too early for either of us to be up on a Saturday morning, right?"
Adding milk to his Fruit Loops, Jason responded, "You couldn't sleep either, huh?"
"Nah, too much to not think about."
Jason smirked at his friend's comment but gave no reply of his own. He watched in silence as Zach poured a healthy dose of the fruity cereal into own bowl and began to devour the food with his fingers.
"You know we have spoons, right? And, the milk's right here . . ."
"No, thanks. I don't drink milk with my cereal. Lactose intolerant."
Jason's spoon stopped roughly halfway on its journey to his mouth. Nothing seemed to unnerve the teen more than friends who casually threw out unnecessary information. "Please tell me you don't say things like that when you're trying to charm the ladies."
Looking at his closest pal with tired eyes, Zach pleaded, "Let's not talk about girls, okay?"
"No problem," Jason gladly agreed. However, his curiosity quickly got the best of him as he soon asked, "So, why exactly don't you want to talk about girls? I thought that was your favorite subject, Casanova."
"Just drop it."
The unwarranted tension in Zach's voice only served to increase Jason's curiosity. His eyes going wide and his cereal long forgotten, Jason asked, "Does this have something to do with why you and Belle were together last night when we found you? Ah, man! Were you macking on Shawn's girlfriend?"
"Damn it, Jason. I said to drop it."
"What the hell's got you so defensive, Wesley?"
"If you're in such a mood to talk, why don't you tell me what went down between you and Mimi?" Zach grinned smugly when Jason snapped his mouth shut and wordlessly poured more cereal into his bowl. "I thought you wanted to talk. You know, share our feelings like a bunch of girls."
Jason heatedly dropped his spoon down onto the table. "You really want to know? I got caught up in some make-believe moment and made a stupid mistake. That's what happened with me and Mimi last night."
"Funny, that's exactly what happened to me," Zach quietly replied, any previous hostility erased from his voice. After plopping a few fruit loops into his mouth, he prodded, "So, you tell me how you ended up at the corner of Elm and Franklin last night, and I'll tell you how I got there."
"And, this conversation goes no further than this kitchen?"
"Of course."
"Deal," Jason agreed, thankful to be able to unload the worries that had woken him so early in the morning. "It all started when I actually trusted Philip and went to help him with some project at Titan."
"What was the project?"
"There wasn't one. Philip was just dragging me over there so he could lock me in some storage closet with Mimi. Anyway, while we were locked up in there we started talking about all this stuff and . . . I ended up saying something I shouldn't have."
Zach slowly shook his head, tossing Jason a saddened look. "Please tell me you didn't sing another song about wanting to have sex with her."
"No," crossly countered Jason, his cheeks becoming slightly redder as he remembered the embarrassing incident that only furthered Mimi from him. "I sorta said that . . . iwasinlovewithher."
Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Zach requested, "Could you repeat that? Only, this time, trying slowing down and using actual syllables."
Pushing his bowl aside, Jason slowly admitted, "I told Mimi that I was in love with her."
His mouth gradually dropping open and then closing, Zach stared at Jason in pure disbelief. With deliberate movements, Zach carefully dropped his spoon into his bowl. Mimicking Jason's earlier action, Zach pushed the bowl off to his left. He then rested his arms where his bowl had been sitting, his fingers on his right hand intertwined with those on his left hand.
Zach's eyes were still wide with surprise as he asked for clarification. "So, you told Mimi Lockhart that you're falling in love with her . . . in a storage closet . . . that Philip locked you in . . . after you've ignored the girl all week long . . . "
Nodding his head, Jason answered, "Yeah, pretty much."
Zach, nodding his head as well, asked, "What did she say?"
"Not a thing." The expression on Jason's face changed just slightly as he told the final part of his story. "As soon as it slipped out, a janitor opened the door and Mimi darted out. I just stood there while she ran down the hall."
As though he was listening to an ancient fairy tale, Zach asked, "Then what happened?"
"Mimi started hitting the down button for the elevator, but nothing happened. So, she took the stairs. I don't think I've ever seen her move that fast, Zach. After I finally decided to go after her, I wasn't even able to catch up with her until we were nearly back to the first floor."
"Don't stop there - keep going."
Jason pushed his chair back and lifted his bowl and spoon. As he walked toward the sink, he responded, "There's not much more to say. Philip was no where to be found, so I told Mimi that I would drive her home. She didn't exactly look happy about it, but she didn't argue with me, either. Once we got in the truck, she didn't say anything until we spotted your car on the side of the road." Returning to the table, Jason concluded, "There you have it - the story of how I made a fool of myself last night. Now, let's hear your story."
Zach, slightly comforted by the simple fact that Jason just might understand his predicament, replied, "As you know, Belle waited on Friday afternoon for me to drive her home. After we left the school, I had to go to the hospital first and pick up some grocery money from Craig because he and Nancy were about to leave for a medical conference in Houston. Then, Belle was getting really hungry so we stopped at the Brady Pub for dinner. By the time we finished eating, the weather was already getting bad."
As he listened intently, Jason carelessly grabbed the box of cereal and tossed it into the cabinet. "I know the two of you must have gotten a little wet leaving the pub, but when Mimi and I found you guys sitting in the car, you were soaked. What? Did you two get bored and decide to go for a nice stroll during a severe storm?"
"Not quite. We were actually lucky because it wasn't raining very hard when my car broke down. Sure, I got kinda wet when I got out to look under the hood, but it wasn't that bad."
While Zach finally found the required energy to get up and carry his empty bowl to the sink, he continued his narrative. "About ten minutes after I got back in the car, Belle and I decided to try and make it back to pub. We were hoping if we cut through the park, we could get back there before the storm worsened."
Jason shook his head as though he were a disappointed parent. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it. With a wave of his hand, he signaled for his friend to continue. After all, he had a strong feeling that Zach could not have cared less about getting to the Brady Pub. Jason's guess was that Zach was merely looking for a good time.
"To make a long story short, the weather kept getting worse, so we ducked inside that gazebo on the east side of the park. I can't remember exactly what we said, but Belle and I were disagreeing on some stuff."
Zach purposely failed to mention that the cause for the disagreement had been none other than Jason and Mimi. Continuing without any further details about the difference of opinion, Zach said, "It wasn't like we were having a serious argument, we were just disagreeing and, ah, hell, I don't know what happened. I was just looking at her and she was standing there soaking wet. I swear, I've never seen a cold, shivering girl look that sexy."
Jason rolled his eyes with a smile. "I thought you said that whatever went down last night was a mistake."
"It was." The seriousness tainting Zach's voice surprised Jason. "We were so close to each other and . . . I don't know what I was thinking . . . I just kissed her."
"And, you liked it, right?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it'll ever happen again. We both know what a good girl Belle is. Then, there's the fact that she's convinced she belongs with Shawn Brady who just happens to be nearly as flawless as Belle is. He's the guy that says 'I love you,' and I'm the guy that isn't even sure he believes in love."
"Okay, back to that kiss . . ."
Glaring at Jason, Zach wearily replied, "What about it?"
Jason's eyebrows lifted in mischievous arches. "Was it a french kiss . . . how long did it last . . . was she kissing you back . . . and, most importantly, where were your hands?"
Once Jason had finished with his barrage of questions, Zach merely stared back at him. Never had Zachary Wesley been one to kiss and tell. The act of simply informing Jason that he had kissed Belle went against Zach's normal tendencies. Though most thought of him as a so-called player, few ever heard the actual accounts of Zach's rumored romances.
"Well?"
Finally giving a response, Zach stated vaguely, "The kiss was a mistake. End of story."
Jason, surprising his friend, accepted the answer without any further cross- examination. "You think there's any chance things won't be strange on Monday?"
"Not a chance."
"You think anyone else got into this much of a mess last night?"
"Again, not a chance. Philip was obviously too busy playing matchmaker to have any adventures of his own. Chloe and Brady were probably at home doing some boring married thing."
Cleverly concealing a smirk, Jason asked, "What about Shawn? Where do you think he was last night?"
"Hopefully not anywhere with a view of the gazebo," Zach laughed. "The only thing that would be worse than kissing someone else's main squeeze would be getting caught."
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
Brady paused in the doorway to the kitchen, his mind inadvertently plagued by memories of the night before. He had spent most of his night awake, replaying the unkind sight of his new bride kissing Shawn in the darkened kitchen. It was an image that seemed to be burned in his brain.
Entering the room, Brady found his lovely wife seated at the kitchen table, her full attention being given to reading the morning newspaper. Without bothering to greet Chloe, Brady shuffled across the room and opened the freezer door. Once he had retrieved an individually packaged frozen sausage and biscuit, he harshly slammed the door shut.
Chloe lifted her eyebrows with curiosity as she turned to watch Brady haphazardly throw the sausage and biscuit into the microwave. Proffering an unsolicited peace offering, Chloe said, "I made enough French toast and waffles for both of us."
"Yeah, well, I'm really not in the mood for any of that stuff."
"Suit yourself," responded Chloe. If Brady wanted to behave like an obstinate child, she would let him. She had no idea what could have put him in such a bad mood so early in the day, but she refused to worry herself with his tantrum.
As the microwave's timer unleashed a shrill beep, Chloe redirected her attention to the newspaper's Saturday edition. Meanwhile, Brady pulled his meager breakfast from the microwave and quickly devoured it.
Chloe lightly shook her head as she glimpsed Brady returning to the refrigerator and pulling out the orange juice. As though he was purposely trying to aggravate Chloe, Brady forwent using an actual glass and guzzled the liquid straight from the plastic container. Refusing to give in to Brady's silent goading, Chloe gave no response. Yet, she could not help but think that the actions were very uncharacteristic of Brady. In fact, such childish actions seemed to be much more the style of someone like Jason or Zach.
The sound of the chiming doorbell saved the tense couple from having to try and make conversation. Roughly setting the juice back into the fridge, Brady grumbled, "I'll get it."
As he walked out of the room, Brady silently cursed Chloe for being able to look so attractive when he was fuming mad at her. His long legs quickly crossed the small living room and reached the door in near record time.
An unhappy scowl fell across Brady's face once he opened the door. Looking at Shawn unhappily, Brady merely rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut. He was certainly not in the mood to deal with wife-stealing cousins who happened to live next-door.
When Brady returned to the kitchen, Chloe casually asked, "Who was at the door?"
"Wrong number."
~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~
The November sun was almost directly overhead when Jason and Zach arrived at the Wesley home. The guys had been going stir crazy at Jason's house and, upon Catherine's insistence that they stop moping around the house, had left to go play basketball. That had lasted about as long as it took the two to realize that the cold front had knocked the temperatures down into the forties.
Not being creatures that adored the cold, the teens had ultimately decided to go to Zach's house to complete a task that Zach had looked forward to since Chloe's engagement announcement. It was finally time to move out of the former guest room and into Chloe's old bedroom - a room with the added feature of a tree outside the window.
"I didn't think Chloe would ever get all of her stuff moved out," commented Zach while taking down some of the clothes hanging in his soon-to-be old closet. Laying the garments across the bed, Zach then began to toss his shoes into a large cardboard box.
Jason's eyes narrowed with curiosity and bemusement as Zach tossed the ninth pair of shoes into the box. As usual, he was unable to keep his comical remarks to himself. "Even my baby sister doesn't own that many pairs of shoes. I swear you have to be the prissiest guy I've ever met. You act more like a vain girl than most girls I know." Hitting his pal where he knew it would hurt, Jason taunted, "I bet you even own more hair products than most girls."
"Since when has it been a crime to look good?" Having taken care of all his shoes, Zach moved to the dresser and began arbitrarily throwing garments into another large box. "Let me get all this stuff in a box, and then you can help me carry it to my new room."
"Gee, how will I ever thank you for such an honor?"
"Don't mention it."
Watching Zach throw the final pair of boxers into the last cardboard box, Jason commented, "Don't expect me to carry that one."
"Fine, carry this one," commanded Zach as he placed the collection of shoes in Jason's arms. He then threw the clothes on hangers over his own arm and picked up the remaining box. "Let's go."
Seconds later Jason graciously opened the door for Zach, who was carrying the heftier load. Upon entering the bedroom, the young men received the shock of a lifetime.
Two fair-sized cardboard boxes were on the bare bed and another three were placed on the floor near the window. Meanwhile, two small duffle bags were perched on the window seat . . . along with something about 5'5" and 115 pounds.
Jason, clearly more surprised by the intruder than Zach, loudly mused, "What the hell . . ."
Zach dropped his box to the floor and allowed the clothing to fall on top of it. "No way. This is my room."
"Well, judging from all of my boxes that are already in here, I'd say you're too late, Zachary." Flashing Zach a deviously brilliant smile, the girl returned to her task of emptying her bags.
Whining like a child having to share his favorite toy, Zach retorted, "But, I've been waiting for this room forever."
"Forever? Honestly, you sound like a five year-old with those exaggerations."
"And, you sound like Nancy with that tone," countered Zach.
A disgruntled look passed over the young woman's face but was quickly replaced with a self-assured smirk. "Speaking of Nancy, she wouldn't happen to know about me having to pick you up at the police station, does she? Or, maybe you have told her about that. And, I'm sure you've also gotten around to telling Nancy about that pesky escapade involving you borrowing her car when she and Craig went to visit you for your fourteenth birthday. If I'm not mistaken, that would be the time you put a scratch up the side of the car and I helped you blame it on the neighbors."
Giving in to the blackmail, Zach grumbled, "Fine, you can have this bedroom. You probably won't be able to put up with Craig and Nancy for a week anyway."
A grin passed between Zach and his acquaintance that proved neither was at all angry about the conversation or its outcome.
After being silent during the squabble, Jason finally spoke. "So, I take it you two know each other."
"You could say that." Motioning toward the pretty brunette, Zach introduced, "Jason Masters, I'd like you to meet Sinclair - my sister."