Got the Life (A Nicki Sosebee Novel) Read online

SEAN TOOK THE pressure off Nicki himself. That evening, Sean and two of his close male friends showed up at Napoli and requested Nicki as their waitress. When Mandy told her she had a table of three (and had neglected to tell her they’d specifically requested Nicki as their waitress), she was surprised to see them.

  This particular Tuesday night was slower than usual, so Nicki didn’t have to make the table wait. She came out of the server area and didn’t quite know what to think when she saw Jesse, Sean’s friend since middle school, and Travis, one of his biker friends, one he’d hit it off with shortly after opening his business.

  She spotted Jesse at her table first as he was facing her and then she saw Travis, because she could see him in profile, but Sean’s back was to her. It didn’t take her much time to figure out who he was when she saw Jesse and Travis, but she would have recognized Sean anywhere. Except instead of wearing his hair slicked back like he did a lot of times, he was wearing it loose. She hadn’t seen him wear it that way in a long time, so she was curious to see how he looked up close.

  More than that, though, she thought as each footstep brought her closer to their table, what did it mean that he and his friends came to Nicki’s turf? It was already apparent to her that they’d asked for Nicki to be their waitress, so what did it mean? Why were they there? Well, stupid, it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. It wasn’t the first time Sean had been to Napoli, nor was it the first time he’d requested Nicki as a waitress. In fact, just a few months ago, it had been with Kayla. Get over it.

  And be cool. She got to their table, her waitress smile on her face. “What a pleasant surprise. Good to see you guys. Are you thirsty?”

  Travis grinned. He had hair that was black as a raven and emerald green eyes. The guy was an ass, as far as Nicki was concerned, but he was easy on the eyes. He was the most heavily tattooed of the three at the table, and he wore a sleeveless shirt to show them off. “Have you been outside lately? I’d say me and the boys are dehydrated.”

  “Then pick your poison.”

  Sean spoke up. “We’ll get a pitcher. Coors all right, guys?”

  “Yep.” Travis looked up from the menu again. “Just keep it comin’.”

  Nicki smiled. “I think I can do that. Any appetizers?”

  Jesse finally joined the conversation. “Why don’t we get some of that garlic bread with mozzarella? That’s pretty killer.” Jesse and Nicki had always gotten along, even during that awkward period in high school when he kept hitting on her in spite of the fact that she had a steady boyfriend. But Sean took care of that. Jesse wasn’t a bad-looking guy—brown hair, brown eyes, with a similar build and stature to Sean. He wasn’t as concerned about his looks as Sean, though—he seemed more laid back about it. He had a couple of tats on his arms, a couple of ear piercings, and an eyebrow piercing that Nicki had told him was a great move right after he’d had it done.

  Sean and Travis nodded. “Okay. I’ll get the kitchen on that, and I’ll be right back with your beer.”

  As she stepped away from the table, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d done it and not freaked out. But her hands started shaking, some weird after-adrenaline rush surging through her veins. And she knew why. Jesus, it was like Sean was a fucking male model. His hair was perfectly tousled, touching his eyebrows without hanging in and covering up his eyes. Très sexy. How did he do that? How did he manage to up the hot factor every time she saw him?

  She punched in the order for the cheese bread, then went to the bar.

  Only tonight she was stuck with the lame bartender. Nicki didn’t mind getting her own drinks, but it pissed her off when it wasn’t necessary. Tonight Amy was the bartender and she was sitting on the customer side of the bar flirting with the one guy there, watching the big screen TV on the wall with him. Nicki pulled a pitcher out of the freezer, noting that the poor guy didn’t seem to be enjoying her company. Unfortunately for him, Nicki didn’t want to waste time helping to extricate him from Amy’s verbal clutches.

  Amy noticed Nicki. “Hey, I can get that.” And…how long would Nicki have to wait? No thanks.

  “No worries. I got it.” If Nicki were slammed with tables, she would have insisted.

  “Suit yourself.” Amy turned her attention back to the customer. That was not what they meant by customer service, but she wasn’t Amy’s boss. And she didn’t want to be. She saw the shit the supervisors had to put up with here, and she wanted no part of it. But the crappy supervisors allowed people like Amy to get away with murder. And in spite of supervisors, Nicki had learned over the years that there were a variety of people she would always be stuck working with: slackers who only did the least amount of work they could get away with (Amy was half slacker); reverse golden rulers who asked what was in it for them (this was Amy’s other half), as though their paycheck wasn’t enough; Nazis who wanted things done one way and one way only, even if there were multiple ways to do a particular job; and whiners who would do their job but complain about how hard it was. No matter where she’d worked, she always had to deal with these personalities. The customers were easy; the coworkers were not. And the less she had to deal with the slackers, reverse golden rulers, Nazis, and whiners, the better. So she poured the beer herself.

  When she got back to their table, Sean, Travis, and Jesse’s menus were closed, indicating to Nicki that they were ready to put in their pizza order. As she slid the tray on the table to pour them their first beers, she asked, “Did you guys already hear the specials or do you even care?”

  She handed the first glass of beer she poured to Travis, since he was seated the farthest away, then Jesse to her left and Sean to her right.

  “No, we’re ready to order.” Sean looked up at Nicki, his eyes and smile relaxed. He seemed different. His hair, maybe?

  “Shoot.”

  “We’re gonna have a large double pepperoni.”

  “Thick or thin?”

  Sean raised his eyebrows and looked over at the other two. Jesse said, “Thick.”

  Sean nodded and handed the menu to Nicki. She took the other menus as well. “I’ll get that out as soon as it’s ready.”

  And then business picked up. She didn’t have time to talk much, but she brought out their appetizer and then their pizza, followed shortly by another pitcher of beer. As the evening wound down, they asked for yet another pitcher and had her box up the last two slices of pizza. But they stayed, nursing one pitcher of beer after another. They started getting a little louder but not rowdy. Finally, they were the only table left in Nicki’s section, and she and the other two waitresses had finished almost all their closing duties except for the floor, which had to wait until all customers were gone.

  Since everything was done, Nicki decided she could spend some time with Sean and his friends. “How’s everything, guys?”

  They were all feeling good, had just finished a good laugh, and all had wide smiles on their faces. “Great.”

  Sean asked, “Are we keeping you from getting your stuff done?”

  “Nope. You can stay here till ten, and then I’ll kick your asses out.”

  All three laughed. Oh, yeah, they were feeling pretty damned good. Jesse asked, “What time is it?”

  “It’s about nine-thirty. You still have time.”

  “Should we get one more?”

  Sean waved his hand close to the table. “No. I’m good.”

  “Me too.” Travis picked up the pitcher. “Besides, there’s still a little left.”

  Jesse held out his glass. “Then it’s mine.” While Travis poured the remaining beer in his glass, Jesse looked back up at Nicki. “Why don’t you join us for a little bit?”

  It was tempting. She didn’t usually sit down with customers, but it was dead and there was nothing left to do. And God knew where the other waitresses were. Probably smoking behind the restaurant. And if any customers came in, she could stand and take care of them before they even realized she’d been sitting down. “Okay.” She pulled out the chair and sat. “So wha
t are you guys up to tonight?”

  Sean wasted no time answering. “Just hanging out.”

  “Ah, a little guy time and here I am messing all that up.”

  Jesse slammed his glass down. He might have been a little drunk, but he managed to play sober well…except for slamming the glass. “We invited you. I’d ask if you wanted a drink, but…”

  Nicki smiled. “I can’t drink on the job anyway.”

  Sean said, “I told the guys about your front-page article.”

  Nicki felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m pretty proud of that.” Jesse shifted in his chair and his knee started digging into the outside of her thigh by her knee. She scootched the chair over a little to break the contact.

  Travis said, “Yeah, I saw that article and read it, but I guess I didn’t catch that you were the one who wrote it. This was your first one?”

  “Yep. Well, first time on the front page.” There was Jesse’s knee again. What the fuck? She got ready to move her chair over again and give him a dirty look but turned her face to him first. He had a shit-eating grin on his face; he was fucking with her—actually, flirting might be a better way to describe it. But to what end? So instead of moving her chair, Nicki playfully pushed his knee off her leg by pushing her leg against his with force. They smiled at each other and he winked at her.

  I’ll be damned. Sean’s friend had a crush on Nicki again. Maybe he was as pathetic as Nicki was—maybe he’d never gotten over her any better than she’d gotten over Sean.

  And then she had an epiphany. She knew all about the bros before hos motto and wondered how Sean would feel about that. She didn’t know how much Jesse knew about what had happened between Sean and Nicki. Sean and Jesse were really good friends, so surely he had heard about The Night and Nicki’s embarrassing faux pas. He probably had not heard the latest, but Nicki couldn’t even pretend to imagine what guys talked about when they were alone. Maybe he had.

  And maybe Jesse knew that Nicki was only a friend to Sean.

  But maybe Nicki would have to test that out. Just how would Sean feel if she dated (or even just slept with) one of his close male friends? She’d never done it before.

  She might have to find out. Soon.

  But for now, back to chatting them all up and then she had to get back to work. “Anyway, tomorrow I have an interview with Melissa Jacobs.”

  Jesse asked, “Who’s that?”

  Nicki gave Jesse the background on Jacobs and told the guys that she thought Jacobs might be able to give her a lot of good information. Another front page article perhaps? That was the plan.

  Sean hugged Nicki when the guys left at ten. They were going next door to the sports bar because they weren’t ready for the night to be over. Jesse forced a hug on Nicki as well. Between that and the huge tip on the table, Jesse was now in her crosshairs.

  Chapter Seventeen

  NICKI DIDN’T KNOW what to wear to her interview with Melissa Jacobs. Sometimes she wore cute dresses to court, and sometimes she wore business-type suits to some interviews, but she wasn’t sure what would feel most appropriate in this particular situation.

  She spent far too long standing at the closet, but she finally settled on a light white cotton dress, one with short sleeves, a skirt that came to her knees, and a pair of white sandals. Conservative for Nicki, but appropriate for interviewing a woman who was no doubt nervous and upset. Nicki had written down a few questions but planned to wing a good part of it. She preferred following her gut instincts. She mainly wanted to know all the events that had led up to Edwards’s arrest.

  She arrived at Melissa Jacobs’s modest home just a couple of minutes early. The woman lived in a small house in one of the lower-income neighborhoods of Winchester. There were no trees around the house and no lawn. There were small weeds in the front yard that had no doubt been mowed down recently. There was no fence around the house and just a makeshift driveway on the left side. There were two vehicles parked there—one an old light blue Chevy pickup that had seen better days and a burgundy Subaru station wagon (also old). Nicki’s Jetta would feel at home here.

  She parked in front of the house. She left her purse on the floor of her car, taking with her her keys, pad and pen, and cell phone (which she tucked into her right hand pocket). She locked the door and turned around, taking in her surroundings. Jacobs’s home itself wasn’t that spectacular either. It was white but part of the paint was peeling in spots. She walked up the stone path (someone at some time had cared for this home, but she didn’t think it was the current occupant). There was evidence that at one time there had been a screen door on the place but not anymore. The doorbell was also missing its cover. Nicki felt bad that this poor woman couldn’t afford upkeep for the place or, if she was renting, that the landlord didn’t give enough of a shit to fix things.

  She knocked on the door—it had a window that was covered with a white and light yellow gingham curtain. She noted that the window way over to the right also had heavy drapes that were closed. Apparently Jacobs valued her privacy.

  A slight breeze drifted past her legs. Nicki was glad it was overcast today. By the looks of this house, she didn’t expect air conditioning inside. She glanced around the neighborhood. There wasn’t much activity right now—no dogs barking, no kids playing, no cars driving by. It was quiet.

  Nicki was starting to suspect that Jacobs had changed her mind. But if she was here, Nicki wasn’t going to leave without trying more than once. She knocked on the door again, and she’d call the woman’s phone if need be.

  At last, Nicki heard the doorknob turning. Maybe the woman hadn’t heard the first time Nicki knocked. Nicki inhaled deeply and put on her reporter face.

  The woman who opened the door had her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and looked tired. Or stressed. Nicki wasn’t quite sure which. She wanted Melissa Jacobs to feel at ease with her, so she wouldn’t become more stressed with the questions she’d get around to asking. So she put on a friendly but not overbearing smile. “Ms. Melissa Jacobs?” The woman nodded her head. “Hi. I’m Nicki Sosebee with the Winchester Tribune. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

  “Yes.”

  Nicki stood there, waiting for the woman to invite her in, but she simply stood in the doorway. “Um, as I said on the phone, I’d like to ask you some questions. Can I come in for a few moments?”

  The woman seemed a little nervous. “Can’t you just ask me here?”

  Nicki had to put her at ease. She smiled. “You might get tired of just standing here, don’t you think? And I want to make sure I quote you properly, so it would be best if I could take notes somewhere.” She decided to try a different tactic. “Can I maybe take you out for a cup of coffee?” To clarify, she added, “My treat.”

  “Well, I need to be here for my sons.”

  Kids? Oh, okay. But she needed this interview. How could she entice this woman to talk, really talk? “McDonalds, then?”

  Jacobs was uncomfortable. “How long do you think this will take?”

  Nicki scrunched up her mouth, then said, “Ten minutes at the most, I think.”

  The woman sighed. “Then why don’t you just come in and let’s get this over with?”

  Well, that’s what Nicki liked. A good attitude. This was going to be a great interview. Not.

  Nicki followed Jacobs into a small kitchen. The room, just like the outside, had seen better days. The floor was covered in linoleum that had a brown and yellow pattern, no doubt popular eons ago, and it was pock-marked with cooking mishaps and furniture wounds. The walls were off white, but the window facing the driveway had the same yellow-and-white gingham curtains. These were open and letting in a little light, but the overhead light was turned on. In the center of the small room was a white-and-gold-flecked Formica-topped table, no doubt kept from the era the linoleum came from. Nicki felt like she’d stepped into the past.

  Nicki noticed a few dishes piled in the sink but nothing outrageo
us. The home—though worn down—appeared to be pretty clean. She stood beside the table, not feeling welcome enough to just sit down. Finally, though, Jacobs pulled a chair out and indicated with a wave of her hand that Nicki should sit down as well. So…no formalities, no foreplay. Just get to it and get out.

  “Okay, Ms. Jacobs,” she said as she opened her steno pad. “I have just a few questions. Because I want to be fair and impartial, I might ask some questions that seem to have obvious answers, but I don’t want to just jump to conclusions. I’d rather hear the answers from you.” Nicki said this, because she had already formulated her own opinion. She suspected that Michael Sterne, Melissa Jacobs’s ex-boyfriend and half-brother of Jason Edwards, was jealous of Jacobs’s relationship with Charles Baker. What that relationship was, only Jacobs could tell her. But she wanted to hear what Jacobs herself had to say. “According to Jason Edwards’s arrest affidavit, he and your ex-boyfriend Michael Sterne are suspected of setting fire to Charles Baker’s home in Colorado Springs. What is your involvement in all this?”

  “What do you mean, ‘involvement’?”

  “I don’t mean that you were directly involved. I mean more like where did you fit into all of it?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you know, but Mike and I were together for a long time…eight or nine years. He’s the boys’ dad. Anyway, we separated, and then I was dating Charles for a time. Charles came here to visit me and he and Mike got into a fight. Right out there in front of the house. And if the neighbors hadn’t called the cops, they probably would have worked it out without anybody getting in trouble.”

  Okay, that was weird. Nicki hadn’t studied domestic violence much, but this woman definitely sounded like a victim. She’d obviously had the balls to leave the jerk in the first place (and, if he was anything like his little brother, Nicki could only imagine what a piece of work he was) but could never really get away.

  “So are you still dating Mr. Baker?”

  Jacobs’s eyes widened. “No.” She didn’t intend to expand on her answer.