Funeral of a Good Girl
By – TempestRaces
Chapter Nineteen – Of Black Dresses and Being Late
Tempest was having such a good time wandering the mall and seeing all the shops she didn't have at home, she wasn't even paying attention to the time. When she got hungry she ate and went right back to shopping. She got a few small gifts for some of her friends and family and some stuff for herself. She didn't even know what time it was when she finished of the first shopping center. She just headed to the car and left for the second place Mia had told her to go to.
When she was done shopping she headed back to her car for the second time, again loaded down with packages. She threw them in the back seat and started the car. When the stereo finished loading up, she saw the time was six thirty. "Oh shit," she said to herself, a hint of a laugh in her tone. She was late, and he was going to think she'd done it on purpose. Couldn't be helped. By the time she got back she knew she was going to be a full hour late, and she never had managed to meet up with Jesse. He was going to be home before she got there, so she figured there was no need to go by the shop. She headed straight to the house. When she got there she parked, gathered her bags and headed in. "Hey guys!" she called out to people in the living room. Everyone but Vince was present and accounted for.
"How was the mall?" Jesse asked.
"Malls, and they were fine. I got a shit load of stuff."
"I see that." Jesse grinned.
Mia sighed. "Lucky! I haven't been shopping in forever."
"Well, I gotta go set this stuff down." Tempest headed for the kitchen, and the stairs to the basement. She got to the bottom and set her bags on the floor at the end of the couch before flopping back onto the sofa tiredly. Her feet were killing her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent so many hours walking around malls without at least needing to drive between several and getting a break while she traveled. On that note, she wondered why she wasn't getting ripped a new one by Vince yet. She picked herself up off the couch with a great deal of physical determination and headed toward the closed door of his room. She didn't bother with the formality of knocking, figuring her activities in the room entitled her to walking in without announcing herself first. It didn't matter in the end anyway, as no one was there. There was a note on the bed, amongst the pile of things scattered across the surface.
She picked up the note and started to read. "I figure you're gonna show up home around seven thirty just to spite me, and then decide to get ready, so I'll be around for you at eight. You better be ready by then, or you're going however I find you. Take that as fair warning because I'm serious. Later, V."
She was still laughing about how well he'd guessed what she would do to get back at him as she got into the shower. By seven thirty she was showered and her hair was done. Of course, she'd done nothing more elaborate than working something promising to fight frizz into it after she'd washed it. She knew without being told that if he showed up to get her, and it was either up or straight, she'd be fighting with him until she gave in and changed it. That was where her confidence ended. He hadn't told her where they were going, so she had no idea what to wear. With a wicked little smile, accompanied by a chuckle, she made up her mind.
Vince showed up to pick up his 'date' at just after eight. He'd told her six, he'd called home at seven and she still hadn't been back. He was hoping, for her sake, she hadn't totally blown him off. He'd expected her to make him wait, but if she stood him up, things might get ugly. When he walked into the house, the rest of the team was watching TV. "Hey," he said as he stood in the doorway of the living room.
"Hey," Letty answered, grinning. "How're you?"
"Good. You guys get everything finished up ok?"
"Yeah. It was amazing how smooth things were when you weren't there being an asshole to everyone," Dom answered. It was clear from his tone he wasn't kidding and still wasn't over needing to send Vince home.
"Well, you knew there was a reason why I stopped working with you in the first place," Vince reminded. "This whole me fillin' in for Jesse thing wasn't my idea to begin with."
"Maybe not, but you said you would. You didn't say you would, but that you'd make me pay for asking you."
"Wasn't my intention to do that either. It just kinda worked out that way."
"So, where you takin' her?" Letty broke in. She knew there was no need to elaborate what she was referring to.
"Dunno," Vince answered.
It was obvious he did know, and didn't feel like sharing with her in front of the 'class'. She figured she'd remind herself to ask him again later, sometime after the fact when they had a few minutes alone.
"Where is she anyway?" Vince asked, still looking at Letty.
"Downstairs, as far as I know."
With a nod, Vince headed back toward the kitchen and, through it, the basement stairs. He started down into the murk of the basement. He found her in his room, sitting on the bed, reading. "You ready?"
"Guess so," she answered. She was having her doubts whether or not going anywhere with him was a good idea. What if he managed to tell her something like he had on the way to the movie that had her looking at him with that whole 'awwww' thing in her mind? It wasn't good for her to let herself feel that way about Vince, and she knew it. But she'd made her devil's bargain, and now she had no choice in the matter. "Where we goin'?"
"Out."
"Gee, really?" She looked up at him. "No shit. I meant where exactly are we goin' when we leave this house?"
"You'll see when you get there. It isn't like you have any choice in the matter anyway. My choice, remember?"
"You didn't tell me a thing about what we're doin' or where we're goin'! How'm I supposed to know if what I'm wearin' is ok?" She didn't really care, truth be told. She just wanted to draw his attention to her attire.
Vince looked her over from head to toe. She had her hair done the way she knew he liked it, long and wild. She had on what he assumed was her 'little black dress'. It was cut deeply into her cleavage and fitted across the front. The neck was halter style, wrapping up around her neck to tie in the back, and leaving her shoulders bare. It skimmed her hips softly before flaring out slightly. It fell to a point just above her knee on one side, and a point half way down her thigh on the other, the hem finished on a flowing diagonal. Her shoes were something a mile high, black and strappy, criss crossing up her legs to end in small bows below her knees. "What you're wearin' is fine. Let's go."
"My god, are you gonna be this pissy and bossy all night?" she asked, standing up off the bed.
"Maybe. Are we goin' or what?"
She rolled her eyes. "Alright already. Shit." She started for the door.
As she walked past him to push out the door, he finally saw the rest of her dress. Or lack thereof. The back was practically nonexistent. The only parts of her covered in the rear were a small section of the back of her neck, and her ass. The back plunged straight past the small of her back, terminating somewhere just below where her hips flared out past her waist. One thing he was sure of, no matter how much he tried to compare her to Letty in his head, he knew he had never and would never see Letty dressed up thusly. Everything about the little black dress lovingly caressing Tempest screamed feminine. It was the first outfit he'd ever seen on her that did so, but he couldn't deny it once he'd seen it.
As she walked up the stairs, Tempest mused on her thoughts about Vince's clothes. He was wearing black pants that might have been slacks, not jeans, and a black tee shirt that was just somehow classier than his normal style. What he was wearing wasn't really fancy by any stretch, but he somehow managed to pull it off in such a way that it looked dressy, in a casual way. She should have felt over dressed next to him, but she didn't. Of course, she had also wanted to shock and wow him. She wasn't sure if she'd managed or not, but she'd tried. She thanked god that even if she did lack confidence by times, she had the brash attitude to just brazen it out and pretend she didn't lack anything.
She paused in the door of the living room. "I guess we're off. Someone wish me luck."
"For what?" Letty asked.
"So that we both make it home alive," Tempest answered with a smirk.
Letty laughed. "Good luck."
Mia looked at her new, pale friend through narrowed eyes. "I can't believe you let me think you thought a coloured, clean undershirt was dressed up for you."
"Well, when it comes to car racing, it is. I have the shop undershirts and the dressy undershirts. I don't get dressed up much fancier very often. Hell, I've been known to wear a nice wifebeater and jean shorts out to clubs all summer long."
"The only difference between you'n Letty is Letty wouldn't be caught dead in that dress."
"You got that right," Letty agreed, grinning.
"Well, I so rarely wear anything but jeans and tank tops I decided to go all out."
"We goin' sometime tonight, or are you gonna stand there and shoot the shit with Letty and Mia all night?"
Tempest looked at Vince over her shoulder. "Classy V. Real classy."
Letty and Mia laughed uproariously. "You hit the one thing ol' Coyote ain't for sure!" Letty assured. "He's many things, but classy ain't one of 'em."
"If I didn't know he was born and raised here I'd think he was a country as they came. I seriously wonder where his pickup truck is parked some days," Tempest came back, grinning as she made fun of Vince with Letty.
Vince growled. "Let's go. You girls can make fun of me all you want tomorrow."
"I'll hold you to that!" Letty called, still laughing as she watched Vince marshal Tempest out the front door. When the door was closed she looked around at her friends. "Is our Vince really taking a girl out? Like taking her someplace, not just running into her randomly and taking her back here for a few hours?"
"It looks that way," Leon said, grinning. "And it was his idea."
"There really is a first time for everything," Letty answered, shaking her head.
"I didn't take anything with me but myself," Tempest told Vince as they walked down the front walk toward his car. "I wasn't kidding when I said I never learned to do the whole purse thing and there really isn't anywhere in this dress for cell phones and cards. Hell, there's barely room in here for me."
"You won't need anything. Just get in the car."
She stopped walking. "Ok, why are we still doin' this when you're in such a bad mood? We might as well stay home, you can swill a few dozen beers, and we'll just watch movies with everyone else."
"I'm not in a bad mood."
"You sure as fuck coulda fooled me."
With a pointed look at her to illustrate his frustration Vince opened the passenger side door of his car and stood beside it. "Please get in the car."
"Better." She got into the Maxima with a satisfied smirk. When he joined her she looked over at him in speculation. "You ever gonna tell me where we're goin?"
"When we get there I will."
"This isn't a carefully constructed plot to get me into the middle of no where so it's easier to ditch the body, is it? 'Cause it'd only be fair to give me a sporting chance and I can't run in these shoes."
"That wasn't my plan, but strangely enough, ever time you open your mouth your idea starts to have more and more appeal."
"Just remember, you never know where women can hide weapons."
He looked at her for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. "If you have anything hidden under that dress I don't think I wanna know where."
"No you likely don't."
He sighed at the mental gymnastics her comment started. He couldn't get her words from the morning to stop replaying in his mind. Both on the topic of leaving him wanting her all day and on the subject of the night not necessarily ending the way he thought it would. When he glanced over at her and saw her looking back at him, that little secretive smirk he couldn't figure out and hated because it made him nervous about what was going on in her head behind it, on her face he got worried for what she was planning to do to him. She was still pissed off, of that he was sure. She was taking a little too much pleasure in bating him. He knew it was revenge. Just like the little scrap of black she was wearing and calling a dress, and the mile high puzzle shoes, and the wild tangle of curls falling over her shoulders and down her back, and the delicate scent of whatever perfume she'd sprayed herself with were all part of that same revenge scheme. She was out to make him pay.
"So, how far away is where ever we're goin'?"
"About another fifteen minutes. You can turn the radio on if you want."
"You mean I'm allowed to touch the stereo? Wow. What did I do to deserve that privilege?"
"I dunno. Nothing really. You haven't been particularly good to me lately." He reached over and turned the radio on before she could, and set it for a local top forty station. "So I guess I'll do it."
"I haven't been particularly good to you?" she asked. Her tone was incredulous. "Ok pot, meet kettle! Shit, I mean," she trailed off, not even sure how to put her frustration in words. Did he really want her to go into how she was wearing the outfit she was hoping that she'd finally be able to keep his attention off the other girls long enough for him to realize who he was actually with?
"Ok, ok. I get it. We haven't really been all that good to each other. And I stared my fair share of it. Happy?"
"It's a start, I guess." She watched as Vince signalled his lane change and took an exit for Silver Lake. They fell mostly silent as they navigated the streets. He pulled into a dingy looking neighbourhood and drove down the streets.
"We're likely gonna end up walkin' a bit. It's impossible to park around here and I sure ain't lettin' no valet drive my car."
"As long as we don't have to run, I don't mind a little walk."
"Why do you women wear those shoes? If they're that uncomfortable and cripple you why wear them?"
"Because they match our clothes?" she quipped. He gave her a look that clearly said 'be serious'. "Because they make our legs look long and shapely and make men think about what our long, shapely legs could be doing. Because they lift and shape our derrières, force us to put a slight arch in our back, which forces us to stick out our chests. All of that makes men, um, sit up and take notice."
"I'm sorry I asked."
She smirked. "Really? Why?" He gave her a dirty look. Her answer was laughter. "Aw V, are you thinking about what I think you're thinking about?"
Only if she knew he was thinking about her legs wrapped around his waist while he had his way with her, with those shoes still tied around her calves. He leered at her. "I'd imagine so. My thoughts on certain matters ain't exactly hard to guess."
"No they aren't."
Vince parked the car and got out. She followed his lead, moving around the nose to meet him on the sidewalk. He started to walk down the street and she followed him, rushing to keep up. "Is there a race to get there or what?" she called, unable to match his long stride in her outfit.
"No, why?" he asked when he turned around to find her. She was a few paces behind.
"Because you're practically running."
"You've never had trouble keepin' up with me when we walked places before."
"I've never been wearing dress shoes around you either. Just 'cause I can outrun in you kicks or flip flops doesn't mean I can in heels."
"I never said you could outrun me. I said you never had trouble keepin' up."
"I can keep up with you easily. I can outrun you nicely too, if I'm in sneakers. Not now. So either find a way to let me keep up, or I'm goin' to have to trip you so you hurt your ankle or knee and can't keep up with me."
An angry retort about wanting to see her try came to his lips but died there. He didn't want to see her try. She'd already given him a bloody reason to stop underestimating her once today. He didn't need another. Not if he didn't want to end up seriously hurting her. He took a deep breath to calm his anger and held a hand out to her. "We ever gonna get where we're goin'? Or are we gonna fight in the street all night?"
"Well, excuse me if I don't want to run along behind you like some faithful dog, ok."
"Damn you're hard on the head. Shit. I didn't know just how prissy a set of fancy shoes and dress could make a female."
"Oh, I ain't prissy. But unless you want me to show the whole world what I have on under this outfit, I can't run down the street."
He started off at a slower pace than she even required, unwilling to think of her showing all the other men on the street what was under her dress. Like she knew why they were strolling all of a sudden when they had been sprinting, she chuckled at him. "What?" he asked. His tone showed he knew her laughter was at his expense, and he didn't like it.
She laughed another moment before she answered. "I just find it funny that all of a sudden we're out for a Sunday stroll. You the jealous type, V?"
"Sorta looks that way," he grumbled. He then watched her grin at a middle age man who walked past them on the sidewalk. Once the man was past he snarled down at the witch by his side. She threw her head back and laughed at his actions.
"I still wish you'd tell me where we're goin'."
"We'll be there in a minute and you can see where we're goin'. Why're you so impatient?"
"'Cause knowin' you, there's food involved in this and I'm starving. I only had a quick lunch at the mall and then spent the whole afternoon ranging around it. It's past my dinnertime."
"Mine too, but I'm not the one who knew she had plans at six and blew them off until eight."
"I'm not the one who caused the incident that gave 'she' a feeling of needing to get back at you."
"Don't delude yourself Trouble. Just by being yourself is reason enough to cause a lot of fights between us. It ain't all on me."
"It sure ain't my fault you just can't handle a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it either."
"I think I've shown you enough times that I handle you ok."
"No, you handle sex with me ok. When you try to handle the whole package, you fall to pieces. But that's cool. I knew there was a reason why I was single. I guess I just haven't found the guy who can put up with all I am yet."
She wasn't teasing, not really. She wasn't being mean to him, or trying to make him feel inadequate either. Just making a blanket statement acknowledging the fact her single nature was at least partially her fault. She was being serious, he figured with a frown. He decided to try and bring back a light mood. "Really? You think that guy's out there somewhere?" he teased.
"Yeah, I know he is." She glanced up at him, trying to read his mood from his face. He wasn't giving anything away, and it left her worried whether he was angry or really curious. Was he angry it seemed like she was basically saying that he couldn't handle her long term and that she knew he would never be the man for her? Or was he just curious to know why she thought so, and relieved by the same thing.
"So, the ideal guy for you, the one who can handle the whole package, what's he like?"
He seemed actually curious. "Well," she thought about his question. She hadn't ever just compiled a list before. She just always assumed when she met the right man, she'd know him on sight. It felt more than a little weird to be talking about her ideal man when another man was holding her hand while they walked down the street together. "He's smart but funny. Strong, and probably the silent type in a lot of situations. But he does know when to speak up. Since I can be loyal to a fault, I guess he should be pretty loyal too, otherwise things will be too one sided. He better be pretty tough and confident too. When I get pissed off, I can get abusive so he better be able to give back as good as he gets. No matter what set me off, the nearest person ends up the target of my wrath, deserving or not. I wouldn't be able to put up with a guy who let me walk all over him. I'd just lose all respect for him and that'd be that. I'd run rough shod all over him."
"You acknowledge that about yourself?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, why not? I should get with a guy who's a doormat over and over again just to end up thinking there isn't a man on earth who can keep up with me? Better to know I need an assertive guy from the start and just pass on the passive ones. Indecisiveness drives me crazy in everyone, let alone in a guy I'm gonna spend huge amounts of my time with. If I ask him what he wants to do and he can't tell me, or I have to choose all the time, I'll just go out of my mind. I like my turn behind the wheel, but I like to take my turn to just kick back and put the responsibility on someone else some times too."
"So are you sayin' you like the dominate type?"
"No, I'm not. I don't think of people in terms of type either. I think of them as a sum of their characteristics, so there is no finite amount of 'types' to pick from. I'm saying that I'd like to find a guy who knows what he wants, both of himself and of me, and isn't too timid to go after it, or speak up for it. I'm sayin' that sometimes I like to let someone else decide for me, in certain circumstances and if I'm around someone who never can, I'll just go mad. I need to be able to respect a guy in my life, and if he can't make up his mind, or won't stand up to my shit, I can't respect him and things between us just won't work."
"You ever come close to findin' this perfect guy?"
"Close, once or twice," she told him.
He hated the fact he couldn't read the look on her face. It felt almost like she was implying he might be one of those close calls. He wasn't sure if he was happy about that, or terrified.
"We almost there?" she asked, swinging his arm forward and back as though she was a young child walking with a favoured adult.
It made him laugh, and he was glad that something had broken the mood. "Yeah, almost. Just around the corner."
"You sure the car is safe so far away from us in such a, well, bad neighbourhood?"
"The security's on and most people would be too smart to mess with that car."
"But you're not full of yourself or anything," she chuckled.
"No, not really. Just sure of some things in life, and that my car is pretty safe in certain neighbourhoods is one of them."
"I see. So the good people of this neighbourhood are scared of you, or the people you work for?"
"Likely both," he answered before he could think better of it. "There must be places where you're from that everyone knows you in and knows not to mess with your shit." She wrinkled her nose in thought, and he found the way her skin crinkled across the bridge intriguing.
"I don't think I'm that well known. Well, at work. Everyone at work would know better than to mess with my shit, unless they wanted to get yelled at for half an hour on purpose."
"You been in many fights?"
"Not so many, no. It's strange, but normally all I have to do is talk a little smack and most people just seem to decide it isn't worth messin' with me. I've never had to do all that much actual fighting, just threaten it."
"You have one hell of a smart mouth, and sharp tongue. I guess most people just figure out it'll be like tryin' to take a bone from a pitbull before they even try."
"Maybe," she answered with a smirk.
"Well, this is it," he told her, stopping her travel with the grip he still had on her hand.