Wicked White - Page 20/69

Linda pats Jane Ann’s shoulder with a look of sympathy plastered all over her face. “Our thoughts are with you. I think everyone in America can see how worried you are.” She turns back to the camera. “There’s a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information on Ace’s whereabouts. If you or anyone you know have any information about Ace White’s disappearance, you can call the LAPD. For Celebrity Pop Buzz Nightly, I’m Linda Bronson.”

IRIS

The sun assaults my eyes the moment I roll over. Partying that hard is always painful the next day, which is exactly why I don’t do it that often. I hate the repercussions of a good time.

I push myself up off my bed and my head immediately begins throbbing. Wrinkles form at the center of my forehead as I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose.

I’m never drinking again.

I sigh, dreading having to start the day with more cleaning and sorting of Gran’s things. A hangover isn’t exactly conducive to that type of thing, but I know I just have to put my big-girl panties on and get through it.

Even though I feel like death warmed over, a smile immediately erupts across my face as my eyes land on two ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water sitting on my bedside table with a note.

Ace’s thick scrawl etched across the small piece of paper simply says “drink.”

Who knew the asshole next door was so adorably sweet?

After taking the medication and forcing myself to eat breakfast, I get to work, headache and all.

Two hours after I begin sorting through Gran’s clothes, I come across her favorite Sunday dress. Its blue-and-brown floral pattern stares back at me, reminding me of how great she looked when she wore it. She always seemed so happy every time I saw her in it, and it makes me think about how much her church family meant to her. While I was away in New York, the people from her church and her tenants here at Willow Acres were all she had.

It pains me that I took off in search of my own Broadway dream instead of spending more time with her while she was here. That’s something I’ll never get a do-over at, and more than anything I wish I could have one.

The front door of the trailer opens and Birdie’s voice trails down the hall into the back bedroom where I am. “Iris?”

“Back here,” I answer and then lay the dress I was just holding into the keep pile.

When she steps into the room, her eyes give me a once-over. “You look good, considering how rough your night was.”

I shake my head, shuddering at the memory of throwing up in front of Ace. “It definitely wasn’t my finest hour, but I’m feeling so much better.”

Birdie sighs as she eyes the huge stacks of clothing I’ve strewn about the room. “Gee-Gee sure had a lot of stuff in this tiny place. How the hell did she fit all this stuff in here? This entire trailer can’t be more than one thousand square feet.”

“It’s one thousand and thirty-nine, and Gran definitely knew how to pack every inch of this place full of stuff.” I wink at her and then toss another dress in the donation stack.

She plops down on the bed and sighs. “I never realized how tiny these trailers were until I grew up. When we were little, there always seemed to be more than enough room.”

I smile at her and nod, remembering clearly how we used to run through this place and Adele’s next door. We never complained of being cramped. We loved being here.

Birdie watches me continue to sort through the clothing. “So what happened after I left last night? Did Sexy Trouble try anything funny with you?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No.”

“Good. I was worried, you know.”

I lay another dress down in the donations pile. “I seriously doubt you have anything to worry about when it comes to Ace. He was unbelievably helpful last night.”

“Yes, he was. It takes a very special person to clean up someone else’s vomit like he did. The man either has a stomach of steel or he’s got it bad for you.” She pauses for a long moment. “Did he say why he was at the bar last night?”

I frown, not wanting to repeat any of the intimate things that were said between Ace and me last night. “No, and I was too out of it to even think about asking him. Besides, he was being so helpful, I didn’t want to be rude and seem unappreciative.”

She sighs. “Helpful or not, I think it was weird how he was there last night but didn’t bother to approach you. You need to get to the bottom of what’s going on with him.”

As much as I hate to admit that my overly paranoid friend is right, it was odd that Ace came to Angel’s but never said a word to me, but later told me that I seem like I need him. I need to get to the bottom of all that.

“You’re right. Now that I’m sober, I’ll ask him about that the next time I see him.”

This seems to appease her, because she gives me a curt nod. “Good, because I saw how the two of you looked at each other last night, and I think it wouldn’t hurt to dig into his past before you go and do something crazy like fall for a man that you know absolutely nothing about.”

“Who said anything about falling for him?” My stupid nose twitches, and I catch myself doing it.

Birdie cuts me off with a this-is-me-you’re-talking-to look before I can say another word. “I know you, Iris. I know the look, plus your fucking nose is twitching again. Two words for you: Tanner Lawrence.”

I cover my face with my hands and groan. “Oh, God. You know how I feel about mentioning him.”