In The Red – Excerpt

By Kelsey Browning

Jamie reached into his shirt pocket for the small notebook he was never without, ready to take notes. He cleared a small square of countertop visible amid the accumulation of screws, nails and a ball of rubber bands the size of a potato.  Little scraps of paper filled in the junk mosaic and Roxanne’s unique shorthand caught his eye. The notes must’ve been some type of renovation code because he’d never seen anything like the scratchy symbols. “I talked with Ali and she told me about your unexpected visitor.”

“Why would she tell you I got my period?” Her voice was muffled by the wood surrounding her. “And why would you care?”

This woman was certifiable. Good thing he was familiar with the handling of lunatic clients. “I meant the guy who served the legal papers.”

“Oh, yeah.” She groped around by her side and Jamie leaned down to slap a wrench into her palm. “Him. Forgot all about it.”

He shook his head from side to side. Who the hell forgets she’s being sued? The first edges of frustration simmered through him, tempting him to wrap his hands around her ankles and haul her out from under the cabinet. His fingers strangled his pen instead. “So what can you tell me about the nature of the lawsuit?”

“Nothing really.”

Now in work mode, Jamie wanted to obtain as many facts as possible in order to formulate a strategy. He banked on keeping the suit from ever seeing the inside of a courtroom. “What did the summons say?”

Some mumbling and a curse on somebody’s grandmother’s hound dog echoed from the tiny space. Then a clang. Then a grunt of pure tenacity. He had to admit some fascination with this new side of her. He’d never been attracted to tomboys, but something about the sight of her wrestling the plumbing into submission was incredibly arousing.

“Hey, did you know toilets in the Southern and Northern hemispheres can actually flush in the same direction?” Her question echoed from the cabinet.

Okay—that was not arousing. “No. I wasn’t aware of that fact.”

“Some people think the Coriolis effect causes toilets to flush in different directions, but that’s untrue.”

“Can we return to the more critical topic of who brought suit against you?”

“Brought what?”

“The papers—what did they say? Who filed the lawsuit?” he asked.

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He stood over her, staring down at her denim-clad legs. “Didn’t you read it?”

“No.”

“No?” Tension crept across his shoulders with clawed feet and he reached for the beer he’d set aside earlier. “You’re being sued and you can’t be bothered to find out who’s suing you and why?”