“You don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you,” Chase said, pondering the state of long-term relationships where discussions on trust were not about fidelity, but rather about whether your wife was going to burn down the kitchen, or, in this instance, cut off a finger with a French chef knife. “Just be careful.”
Her cell phone rang again. She clicked ignore.
“Four hundred and twelve,” Gitana said, pulling the portabello mushrooms out of the fridge.
Chase didn’t have the heart to tell her that the portabellos would turn the alfredo sauce the color of baby shit. The best lessons were self-taught.
“It’s just a matter of time before Lacey shows up here,” Gitana said, washing the mushrooms.
“At least it will be on my turf, and she better take care that I don’t handcuff her to a chair.” Or make her eat Gitana’s cooking, Chase thought, but then felt bad. Gitana was trying something new. She was taking a risk at least.
“We really should show her how it feels,” Gitana said, cutting the mushrooms with fervor.
Chase winced. “Please, watch your fingers.”
“I am, don’t worry,” Gitana said, looking down at her fingers and then continuing her diatribe. “Just because she is the leading force of the Institute doesn’t give her the right to incarcerate people at will. I mean what’s next? You’re her best friend and look what she did to you. Imagine what she is capable of with someone she doesn’t like.”
“You’ve got a point.”
“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when she does show up,” Gitana said, pointing the chef knife at Chase and gesticulating.
“Let’s hope it’s not for a while,” Chase said.
Gitana took a deep breath. “I will probably have calmed down in a few days. I wonder if that’s why she hasn’t come around.”
“Would you? Lacey knows how you feel when someone assaults anyone on your team.”
“Damn right.” She’d finished chopping the mushrooms and put the knife down. Chase felt safe to leave.
“I’m going to check on Bud and give her a heads-up on dinner,” Chase said. She refrained from saying “and I will keep an eye out for Lacey in case she does show up so I can keep her from harm.” She slipped around the corner and gathered up the “debacle equipment” that she had stored in the laundry room. She opened the first-aid kit, checking to see if there was a tourniquet, and then retrieved the extra fire extinguisher from the hot water closet. She set everything on the top of the washer where she could easily grab it and run for the kitchen in case of an emergency. Then she went to the studio.
When she opened the studio door, it took her a second to process what was going on and she still didn’t get it. “What on earth are you two doing?”
Donna was standing with a dildo attached to herself. Well, Chase assumed it was a dildo. Either that or she had a penis Chase didn’t know about. Of course, lately anything seemed possible. Bud was sitting on the couch sketching. “She’s doing a life drawing.” Donna was standing with one hand on her hip and the other in the air looking like a Roman orator.
“Why are you wearing that…” Chase pointed at the dildo. “That, that thing.”
“I needed a model. Like I know what a penis looks like,” Bud said.
This was true, but then Chase thought, she hadn’t seen one in years either. Ever? In movies, surely. “But…” Chase sputtered.
“It’s not a big deal,” Bud replied. She closed her sketchbook. “But I do need to have a working knowledge of male genitalia—they do make up half the world’s population.”
“I’m pretty sure women have surpassed men in terms of population—probably due to the outlawing of infanticide in countries like China,” Donna said.
Chase stared at her.
“I could be wrong.”
“It’s not that!” Chase said, nodding in Bud’s direction. She was busy putting her drawing materials away.
Bud looked up. “I know they used to kill
“I do trust you,” Chase said, pondering the state of long-term relationships where discussions on trust were not about fidelity, but rather about whether your wife was going to burn down the kitchen, or, in this instance, cut off a finger with a French chef knife. “Just be careful.”
Her cell phone rang again. She clicked ignore.
“Four hundred and twelve,” Gitana said, pulling the portabello mushrooms out of the fridge.
Chase didn’t have the heart to tell her that the portabellos would turn the alfredo sauce the color of baby shit. The best lessons were self-taught.
“It’s just a matter of time before Lacey shows up here,” Gitana said, washing the mushrooms.
“At least it will be on my turf, and she better take care that I don’t handcuff her to a chair.” Or make her eat Gitana’s cooking, Chase thought, but then felt bad. Gitana was trying something new. She was taking a risk at least.
“We really should show her how it feels,” Gitana said, cutting the mushrooms with fervor.
Chase winced. “Please, watch your fingers.”
“I am, don’t worry,” Gitana said, looking down at her fingers and then continuing her diatribe. “Just because she is the leading force of the Institute doesn’t give her the right to incarcerate people at will. I mean what’s next? You’re her best friend and look what she did to you. Imagine what she is capable of with someone she doesn’t like.”
“You’ve got a point.”
“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when she does show up,” Gitana said, pointing the chef knife at Chase and gesticulating.
“Let’s hope it’s not for a while,” Chase said.
Gitana took a deep breath. “I will probably have calmed down in a few days. I wonder if that’s why she hasn’t come around.”
“Would you? Lacey knows how you feel when someone assaults anyone on your team.”
“Damn right.” She’d finished chopping the mushrooms and put the knife down. Chase felt safe to leave.
“I’m going to check on Bud and give her a heads-up on dinner,” Chase said. She refrained from saying “and I will keep an eye out for Lacey in case she does show up so I can keep her from harm.” She slipped around the corner and gathered up the “debacle equipment” that she had stored in the laundry room. She opened the first-aid kit, checking to see if there was a tourniquet, and then retrieved the extra fire extinguisher from the hot water closet. She set everything on the top of the washer where she could easily grab it and run for the kitchen in case of an emergency. Then she went to the studio.
When she opened the studio door, it took her a second to process what was going on and she still didn’t get it. “What on earth are you two doing?”
Donna was standing with a dildo attached to herself. Well, Chase assumed it was a dildo. Either that or she had a penis Chase didn’t know about. Of course, lately anything seemed possible. Bud was sitting on the couch sketching. “She’s doing a life drawing.” Donna was standing with one hand on her hip and the other in the air looking like a Roman orator.
“Why are you wearing that…” Chase pointed at the dildo. “That, that thing.”
“I needed a model. Like I know what a penis looks like,” Bud said.
This was true, but then Chase thought, she hadn’t seen one in years either. Ever? In movies, surely. “But…” Chase sputtered.
“It’s not a big deal,” Bud replied. She closed her sketchbook. “But I do need to have a working knowledge of male genitalia—they do make up half the world’s population.”
“I’m pretty sure women have surpassed men in terms of population—probably due to the outlawing of infanticide in countries like China,” Donna said.
Chase stared at her.
“I could be wrong.”
“It’s not that!” Chase said, nodding in Bud’s direction. She was busy putting her drawing materials away.
Bud looked up. “I know they used to kill
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