Free Bouquet of Lies by Roberta Smith

six months overdue, he said I needed a lesson. Some mumbo jumbo about saving my life with a wakeup call about responsibility. And here I thought he was a decent guy.”
    “You don’t seem all that upset,” Randy said.
    “I’m upset.” She motioned at her face. “This is me being upset. But what can I do? Get my car. That’s what I can do.” She took Jake by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go. You two play nice.” She tossed the words over her shoulder at Randy.
    Jake looked at Darla. “You owe me a visit, Rabbit Face,” he said before Lacey had him out the door.
    Darla felt her insides turn all mushy, then suddenly Randy’s hand was touching her arm. “Who is that guy?”
    She looked at his fingers on her skin. “That’s Jake. He’s the chauffeur’s son.” Her eyes traveled up to meet Randy’s.
    “Oh, the chauffeur’s son. I’ve heard about guys like him.”
    Darla didn’t understand and she frowned.
    “That was a joke.” He grinned. “Does seem to be a bit of a ruffian though.”
    “What? I don’t think so.”
    Randy’s smile faded and his fingers tightened just a smidge. “Do I have something to be jealous about?”
    Darla’s entire body caught fire. Had he just made some sort of declaration? She had no experience in these matters and her body shook. What was she supposed to say back? Something light and funny? Oh, you’re such a kidder. That sounded stupid. He’d been with Lacey. He’d been with someone who knew how to flirt. Anything she could think to say would sound pathetic. She chewed on her lower lip. It was best not to say anything at all, but words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
    “Jake’s a friend.” She backed away from Randy. She couldn’t handle anything more. 
     

     
    Darla stared out her bedroom window, her thoughts on Randy. Was he interested in her or was he just a flirt? Lacey would know, but she wasn’t around to ask. And since their relationship had been on the rocks all week, she wasn’t sure she could ask.
    Why would a guy like Randy be interested in her? He seemed sort of sophisticated, while her world consisted of a twenty-thousand-square-foot box. A mansion, yeah. A big house, for sure. But it was a small playing field. And she made it even smaller by spending so much time in her room reading romantic novels, pretending to be the heroine.
    She relived her encounter with Randy at the Huntington and then in the family library. She remembered his touch and goose bumps erupted on her skin. Reverend Irene had been right about facing her fear. If she hadn’t gathered up her courage and gone to the library, she wouldn’t have run into Randy.
    After an hour of daydreaming, she caught sight of Jake returning in the Caddie. Lacey, however, never appeared in the Spyder. She must have decided to go somewhere and blow off steam, Darla thought.
    She watched Henry pull the Lincoln out of the garage and go to work detailing it. Jake said something to his dad, went upstairs, came back down, and took off on his Harley. By late afternoon father and son were in the apartment and there wasn’t any activity to watch.
    Darla took out her journal. She jotted down some thoughts, mostly about Randy, but then diligently wrote about her father and Lacey to satisfy the Reverend Irene.
    Day headed for dusk. She watched the distant mountain behind the house turn several shades of purple as the sun lowered behind it, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. No one in the family ate together. The housekeeper just kept food ready in the fridge. Darla wasn’t hungry, but she knew she should eat.
    Before hopping off the bed, her eyes shifted and she saw through the window that Jake was sitting on a chair beside the garage, Lacey’s stray cat rubbing against his legs. He was feeding it nibbles of some kind.
    Some ruffian, she thought, smiling at Randy’s incorrect assessment, and then she remembered what Jake had said to her: You owe me a visit, Rabbit