“If you’re threatening my boyfriend, then we got beef.”
Zerbrowski was beside us. “My house, my rules, Clint, no fighting.” His voice was light, almost cheerful, a tone to calm things down.
Clint’s voice growled out from between his teeth, his rage was nearly touchable. “He fucked my wife; I’m going to fuck him up.”
“I didn’t,” Nathaniel said.
I kept my eyes front on Clint’s very big center of body. Before an arm, a hand, a leg, anything could move, his center had to move, so that’s what I watched. I was already in a subtle fighting stance, which meant I was set to go, but trying not to look like I was ready.
“You calling my wife a liar?”
“She may have been too drunk to remember everything, but I swear that we didn’t have sex.”
Zerbrowski stepped in, not exactly between us, but close, and spoke low. “Clint, I was at your bachelor party, I know what you did with your stripper.”
Clint frowned and looked at Zerbrowski. It was like watching a small mountain turn. Zerbrowski was five foot seven, but he looked frail standing next to Clint. I must have looked minuscule.
“I don’t know what you mean, Zerbrowski.”
“Yeah, you do, or were you so drunk that you don’t remember what happened that night?” His voice wasn’t cheerful anymore, but low and serious. His face matched his voice, and you could suddenly see the cop who had spent over a decade backing down bad guys.
“I remember,” Clint said, sullenly. His body was relaxing, the rage fading.
Zerbrowski was almost whispering now, I doubt that anyone but the four of us could hear. “Did you tell your wife what you did?”
Clint took a step back, his hands relaxed a little. “You threatening to tell her?”
“No, and you’re not going to start a fight at my house either, are you?”
He shook his head. “No, not here.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, and was debating if I had a threat that might keep him from getting in Nathaniel’s face at the club, but Nathaniel had something better—the truth.
“Your wife got a lap dance, she didn’t try for more, but she had a friend that did. The other woman got pissed that I wouldn’t sleep with her, not even for the money she was offering. Just by the way she acted in the kitchen I’m betting that she started the rumor, and must have terrified your wife into thinking she’d cheated. I swear to you that all I did was my job, and that doesn’t include actual sex with anyone.”
Clint was studying Nathaniel as if he’d not really looked at him before except as a handsome man who had crossed the line with his wife. Now, he saw him as something more, though he wasn’t sure exactly what. They were such different kinds of men.
A thin, petite blonde woman crept up beside Clint. Her makeup was smeared with tears, and her gray eyes were wide and frightened. She started to reach out to touch Clint’s arm, then let her hand fall back before she’d finished the gesture.
She looked at Nathaniel. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
“I swear to you: it was a hell of a lap dance, but it wasn’t that good a lap dance.”
She started to cry softly, and managed to say, “Why would Elise tell me that what I remembered had only been part of it? Why would she want me to think that we’d . . . That’d I’d been so drunk that I . . .” She put her hands over her face and just cried.
The elegant Elise from the kitchen had been the bride’s “friend.” She’d been creepy in the kitchen, apparently she was always creepy.
Clint put his arm around her thin shoulders, and he looked too massive for her, as if the weight of his hand should crush her. “Elise’s the one who told me that the stripper you’d fucked was here. I’m sorry, Crystal, I shouldn’t have believed that evil bitch.”
Crystal snuggled against him, still crying.
“Why would she lie?” Clint asked to no one in particular.
“Look at it this way,” Nathaniel said. “I was living with Anita when I was hired for your bride’s party. If she found out I was doing customers she wouldn’t forgive that. I wouldn’t risk her being that angry at me, not for anyone.”
Clint looked at me, then at Nathaniel. “Blake does have a reputation. I guess you wouldn’t want her mad at you.”
“Good to know,” I said, “but why would Elise want Crystal to think she cheated on you? Why would she want to start a fight here?”
“Some women like to stir the shit, Anita,” Zerbrowski said. “Elise’s always been one of those.”
“Have you known her long?” I asked.
“Long enough to know that Nathaniel isn’t the first guy she’s propositioned, but he may be one of the few who turned her down.”
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
“In that cold, wicked witch of the north sort of way,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s not my type either,” I said.
Crystal said, “She tortured me with the thought that I cheated on you. Why would she hate me like that?”
Clint went very still, and had a strange look on his face. Crystal couldn’t see it, probably just as well. I wondered if Clint was one of the men that Elise had propositioned. Somehow I wasn’t sure he’d turned her down, but it was so not my problem.
Zerbrowski had caught it, because he said, “Elise’s always been mean, even to her friends.”
“People like that don’t have friends, just victims they hang around with,” I said.
Zerbrowski nodded. “True.”
Clint and Crystal made up, and she walked away with her husband, relieved, with the tears still drying on her face. Micah walked onto the deck and joined us.
“I thought me joining the group might confuse things,” he said, and took my hand on the opposite side from Nathaniel.
“If you’d stepped into Clint at the wrong time, the fight would have been on,” Zerbrowski said.
I kissed Micah. “I like that you only ride to the rescue when you’re needed.”
He smiled. “You were all doing fine.”
“What was Matthew upset about?” I asked.
“The other boys were teasing him for being in dance instead of T-ball, or martial arts.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“I made sure the little girls heard our discussion. Most of them are in dance and there aren’t enough boys in any dance school, as I’ve learned from Nathaniel and Jason and all the others going to class.”
Nathaniel grinned. “You’ve got the girls wanting to dance with Matthew.”
Micah nodded happily. He turned to Zerbrowski. “Your Kaitlin is how old?”
“Ten.”
“She’s quite taken with Matthew, and sad that he’s too short to partner her.”
“When we take Kaitlin to the ballet she always comes out asking, ‘Where are the boys for me to dance with?’”
“They’re playing little league, or taking martial arts,” Micah said.
People were drifting past us with plates loaded with food. “Time to finally eat some of the food you’ve been making,” I said.
“We’ve got boys here,” Nathaniel said.
“They won’t dance with the girls,” Zerbrowski said.
“Bet they will,” Nathaniel said.
“What’s the bet?” Zerbrowski asked.
“If I can get a boy besides Matthew to dance with one of the little girls, you do the rest of the dishes after the party.”
Zerbrowski studied his face. “And if I win?”
“I do the dishes.”
“You were going to help do the dishes anyway,” Zerbrowski said.
Nathaniel shrugged. “It’s what I could think of, and dishes are the one chore I don’t like.”
Zerbrowski grinned. “Okay, you’re on.” He held his hand out and they shook on it. It was a bet.
Zerbrowski and Katie had rented tables and awnings for the yard. They were on the opposite side from the area they’d left open for the kids to play, and where the swing set was. The size of the yard had been one of their main deciding factors in buying the house, and today showed why.