Coercion by Lux Zakari Page B

before someone finally answered. “Vartanian residence, how may I help you?” a man asked, his voice wavering.
    She cleared her throat. “Hello, my name is Valerie Mercer, and I’d like to speak to Michael, please.”
    “Of course. Just a moment.”
    Valerie heard the receiver land on a hard surface, a sound followed by many agonizing minutes of silence. Finally, there came the scrape of the receiver as someone picked it up. “Yeah?” came Michael’s voice.
    “Hi.” Valerie was suddenly at loss for words.
    “Are you almost ready or what?”
    Her brow knit in confusion. “What do you mean?”
    He heaved an impatient sigh. “You told me to pick you up tonight.”
    “No, I didn’t.” Her voice resembled a mouse’s squeak.
    “Don’t jerk me around, Breeze.”
    Valerie stiffened. “This isn’t Breeze. This is Valerie.” When Michael didn’t respond, she added, “From history.”
    Michael still didn’t reply, and Valerie was tempted to slam down the receiver and pretend the phone call never happened. Finally, he chuckled. “From the parking lot.”
    Her face flamed at the memory. “Right.” Clearly he hadn’t forgotten about her.
    “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
    “I didn’t expect to be calling.”
    There was a pause. “So,” Michael finally said. “What is it? What do you want?”
    Tears stung Valerie’s eyes. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
    “Good. Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, as though it were the most absurd question he’d ever heard. When his words were met with silence, he sighed. “Look, I’m about to pick up Breeze, so—”
    “Even after what she’s done to you?” The incredulous sentence was out before she could stop herself.
    “What are you talking about?” Although Michael’s tone was bored and impatient, she could hear a curious edge forming.
    Valerie pressed her fingertips to her closed eyelids, wishing she could take back her words. “Never mind. It really isn’t my place.”
    “No. I want to know what you meant, since you think you’re more the expert.”
    His annoyed interest pierced Valerie’s heart, and she wondered why she’d chosen to say anything at all. “I just got the impression Breeze was seeing someone else.”
    “Breeze and I aren’t going together anymore. She can see anyone she wants.” He let out a snort. “Who’s the poor bastard this time?”
    Valerie swallowed. “Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, really. This isn’t my business. I didn’t even mean to say—”
    “Who is it?”
    “Marie Bacall’s father.”
    “What? You’re joking.”
    Michael mumbled a stream of unintelligible curses, and Valerie willed herself not to cry. She had no idea why she’d told him. She didn’t know what she’d been hoping it would accomplish.
    “Hey,” he said after a moment. “You at your house?”
    She tried to sound as casual as she could, despite the fact her heart felt like it had collapsed. “Yes.”
    “Good. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
    * * * *
    Valerie scurried across the lawn, the grass crunchy with frost under her feet, and climbed in Michael’s truck just as the cigarette lighter popped. “Hi.” She closed the door behind her.
    He put a cigarette in his mouth and pressed the lighter to it until its reddish pinpoint sprung to life. Then he breathed out a cloud of smoke through the cracked window. “Hey.” He put the vehicle in drive and pulled out onto the street.
    “How’re you doing?”
    He shrugged. “Fine.”
    “Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?” In spite of his coldness, her heart went out to him and the guilt about blabbing Breeze’s infidelities to him weighed on her. He hurt, and it was her fault. “Are you hungry? We could go to a diner.”
    “No.”
    “Of course, we don’t have to talk about Breeze if you don’t want to. We can talk about any—”
    “No.” He shook his head, his jaw tight.
    Valerie chewed her lower lip and waited for him to say