Inimicus

3 The Brand New Home and the Same Old b***h

3

The Brand New Home and the Same Old BitchJonah was still familiarizing himself with Nelson and Tamara's new layout, but he knew that it was a definite step-up, since they'd upgraded from his old apartment.

When Nelson and Tamara had gotten married, Jonah had sub-leased his apartment to them. He became a full-time resident at the Grannison-Morris estate and no longer needed it. They'd been very grateful for the place then, and were excited to start their lives together.

Now, a year later, they were still as happy as ever. But, as Nelson had told Jonah, the aspect of living in an apartment had gotten old relatively quickly for them. As such, they had moved into a small house still within city limits. It had the total package: more room and space, and no noisy neighbors or tenant meetings. Jonah loved their place. He'd been their guest for nearly three days now and was excited about the evening's festivities. Their housewarming party coincided with their one-year wedding anniversary.

Jonah had to laugh when he saw Nelson slink up behind Tamara at the stove and kiss the back of her neck. He'd known that Nelson had been smitten with the woman ever since he'd first laid eyes on her in that shoe store, and a year of her company had only intensified how he felt. Jonah suddenly got a strange feeling in his gut that he couldn't really place. Then, as if his brain decided to catch up with his gut feeling, he wondered if he'd ever have that kind of excitement and comfort with a woman.

Where the hell had that come from?

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, more to distract himself from the awkward thoughts than anything else. “Enough of that. You have a guest present.”

Nelson chuckled, and Tamara turned to gaze over at Jonah in mock defiance, which was no less alarming. Her vividly blue eyes blazed with every emotion, even the play ones.

“Don't tell us what we can or cannot do in our own house,” she scolded. “If I wanted Nelson to take me, right here in this kitchen, I'd kick you out without a moment's hesitation.”

Jonah laughed. Yeah, Tamara meant it as a joke, but a lot of truth was said in jest. “Duly noted, ma'am,” he played along.

Tamara's eyes softened somewhat, and her smile returned. “Did you have a good birthday last week?”

“Oh yeah.” Jonah waved his phone at them. “I'm still getting text messages from people now.”

Nelson and Tamara seated themselves at the table with Jonah, where they began to eat bacon, eggs, and waffles.

“I guess it's safe to say that your mid-to-late twenties have been interesting, huh?” Nelson asked him.

Jonah used swallowing the eggs in his mouth to mask the look of awkwardness he pulled. “You have no idea,” he replied. “So how's Essa, Langton, and Bane?”

Tamara snorted. Nelson rolled his eyes.

“Interesting, much like your twenties,” he answered.

“Really?” Jonah doled out a bit more syrup on his waffles. “How so?”

“First off, Langton hasn't been doing very well, health-wise.” The indifference in Nelson's voice was testament to how big of an asshole Jonah's former boss was. “He's been missing stretches at work, and his wife's at her wit's end. And on the days he's actually in the office, he's not even strong enough to harass us about work.”

“Aww,” said Jonah with as little emotion as Nelson. “Years of bad choices, bad dealings, and bad food tend to have that effect. So what has he done? Delegate things to Jessica?”

“Mmm hmm,” said Tamara instantly.

Jonah snapped his attention to her, and then back to Nelson. “Seriously? Jessica Hale practically runs the office?”

“Pretty much,” said Nelson, with a roll of his eyes. “It's given her a rather high opinion of herself, which is saying something, since she had one already. It's a joke, really; she hasn't even gotten an official promotion from her current position.”

“Now that you mention it,” said Jonah with a frown, “what is Jessica's position?”

“The same thing it was when you were there,” answered Nelson.

Jonah raised an eyebrow. “I didn't know what it was then.”

“Neither did the rest of us,” Nelson deadpanned.

Jonah and Tamara got a nice laugh out of that one. He couldn't imagine Jessica in a position of power like that, because she already had enough clout as it was because she was so far up Langton's ass (or was it the other way around?).

“I hope Langton's health improves soon,” said Nelson after the laughter, “if for no other reason than to depose Her Highness.”

Jonah's mind wandered. He remembered Jessica all too well. She was about four years older than he was, but her level of maturity made those extra years immaterial. She'd made Jonah's life a living hell from the first day they'd met, as she always seemed to be more aware of his shortcomings, more so than anyone else's. But she had Langton wrapped around her little finger for a myriad of reasons, the most obvious being her keen memory for gossip and her trampy outfits.

“You can ask her all about her experiences atop the food chain, Jonah,” scowled Tamara, “when you see her tonight at the party.”

“I'm sorry,” said Jonah stupidly, “but say what?”

“You heard that right.” Nelson gripped his fork a little more tightly. “She is gonna be here tonight.”

“But why?” demanded Jonah. “I understand why you guys felt the need to invite her to the wedding, but why will have her in your house?!”

“Two reasons,” said Nelson with little inflection in his voice. “The first one is self-preservation. If I've invited so many co-workers without her being one of them, we both know that there will be things said. I enjoy my job, and have been there this long because I've learned how to navigate through B.S. like that. And the second one,” for some reason, most of Nelson's indignation evaporated, “well—let's just say that there is something I want you to see. I want you to have a good dose of entertainment before you've gone back to your friends in Rome, N.C.”

When the party began several hours later, things were so light-hearted and warm that Jonah didn't even think about Jessica. It was fun to converse with Nelson's dad and Tamara's sisters, as well as former colleagues that he liked back in his accounting days like Fredrick Park, Cheyenne Usher, and Clayton Tarr. One person that he was most pleasantly surprised to see was Mrs. Souther, the receptionist whom everyone loved.

“Jonah Rowe,” she said in that motherly tone of voice that he'd grown accustomed to back in his accounting days, “you look so well. And boy, you are wasting away!”

Jonah shook his head. His physique had made marked improvements since Reena had aided him in his ability to eat toward his body type. He still was far from a comic book hero, which was completely fine.

“I wouldn't say that, ma'am,” he told her in a rather sheepish tone. “But I'm grateful for the compliment just the same.”

Mrs. Souther motioned Jonah away from the door, so he wouldn't get struck with it by new arrivals. Once they had space, she eyed him in a shrewd sort of way.

“I wonder,” she said to him, “whether or not you have someone special that's keeping you in line.”

Jonah stood there for a moment, and then laughed. That was why Mrs. Souther got him over to the side. It had nothing to do with the door; she was just being her usual self. As worrisome as it was, he found it highly amusing.

Mrs. Souther raised her eyebrows, inviting him to share. What the hell.

“Well, I'm nowhere near marriage, like Nelson and Tamara,” he obliged, “but um—there is this woman…”

He paused there. How to describe Vera? He wasn't really sure how to do it.

Mrs. Souther barely noticed the hesitation. “So you do have a lady that you've taken a liking to,” she said. “You're together?”

“Well, no—”

“Why not?” prodded Mrs. Souther.

“I—” Now the experience wasn't so amusing anymore. “I-I just want to be patient, I suppose.”

Mrs. Souther shook her head. “You kids. Patience has its virtues, but sometimes, you've just got to jump!”

It took them getting that far into the conversation for Jonah's face to warm. “Well, how is your job going, ma'am?”

Mrs. Souther's eyes narrowed, but she smiled. She acknowledged the change of subject, but had the willingness to roll with it. He loved this woman. “I'm retiring in eight months, son,” she said with the tiniest trace of wistfulness. “I'm past the September of my years, but I don't expect you to get that reference—”

“I do,” said Jonah without hesitation.

Mrs. Souther raised her eyebrows, which prompted Jonah to shrug.

“Nana was a huge fan of Sinatra,” he explained.

Mrs. Souther smiled and nodded. “Good taste! But anyway, yes. I'll be free to do what I want in a few months. Jessica's even got me training my replacement.”

The smile fell from Jonah's face as he choked back a scathing comment. “Well, if anyone deserves the rest, it's you, ma'am,” he said instead. “Despite that, I'm sure that your expertise and advice will be greatly missed—”

“Change is necessary, Rowe,” said a familiar voice.

Jonah closed his eyes, and employed the deep breathing techniques that he learned from Felix Duscere. Mrs. Souther's hand, which was on Jonah's forearm, tightened somewhat. Acknowledging her, he gave her a brief nod, braced himself, and turned to Jessica.

She'd cut her strawberry blonde hair to a chin-length bob style, which would have been a nice touch on any other woman. But this was Jessica. The French-tipped nails? Constant. The snug blouse? Of course. And the black skirt that was about the length of one of Tamara's dish towels? Jonah didn't expect anything else.

The hair may be different, but it didn't matter. Jessica Hale was the same old b***h.

“Change is necessary and natural,” she continued, regarding Jonah with the usual distaste. “You either adapt, or perish.”

Jonah took a level breath. Mrs. Souther actually gave a smile, which would have amazed Jonah had he not known she'd dealt with false people for years.

“Very good to see you Jess,” came Nelson's voice, and suddenly, he was there with them. He hadn't changed either; he could sense and diffuse tension just as well as he did in the old days.

Jessica turned her gaze to him. “Got a housewarming present for you, Nelson,” she muttered. “Tam should love it. Tony!”

Jessica actually snapped her fingers, and Anthony Noble bumbled into the door.

Jonah gaped in shock. Anthony was another former colleague. He might have been tolerable if he hadn't worshiped Jessica. He would have done anything for her to notice him and give him the time of day. Apparently, he had finally gotten his wish.

But if Jonah judged things just based off of this interaction, it was the furthest thing from a dream come true.

“Where were you?” Jessica demanded.

“Oh sorry, Jess,” he mumbled. “I was only taking a call on the porch—”

“Hang up the damn phone,” she snapped. “We're at a party; why are you taking calls anyway? Give Nelson the present.”

Anthony complied with Jessica within seconds. Jonah was surprised he didn't bow as he did so. He glanced over and noticed Jonah's presence.

“Oh hey, Rowe,” he said. “How's—?”

“I'm going to mingle,” interrupted Jessica. “Go busy yourself with—I don't know. Just do something. It's a party, after all.”

“Right, sweetie,” said Anthony sheepishly.

He moved in for a quick kiss, but Jessica ducked out of the way with scorn.

“Are you out of your mind?” she demanded. “It took me thirty-eight minutes to properly apply this makeup!”

“Right! Right.” Anthony's response was so sycophantic that Jonah could have gagged. “So sorry, sweetie.”

He shuffled off, and Jessica sneered after him.

“Nice house, Nelson,” she said, despite the fact that she hadn't seen anything past the living room. “Now, if you'll excuse me. Rowe, Marguerite.”

Jonah's blood rose to a boil. Marguerite? Did the skank have no more respect for Mrs. Souther than that?

Mrs. Souther swallowed, but she didn't say anything. She patted Jonah's arm with a smile, crossed the room, and immersed herself in conversation with Tamara's mom.

Jonah unclenched his fists. “My God,” he grumbled to Nelson. “What I wouldn't give for her to not be a woman for just five minutes.”

“I know, Jonah,” said Nelson, who looked as if he didn't appreciate the way Jessica had addressed Mrs. Souther, either. “But she and Anthony have been together for about six months now. It was rather random, too; she practically ordered him to ask her out when we were leaving work one day. You'd have thought he'd flown to the moon.”

Jonah looked over at Anthony's slavish form across the room. “Well, he fell back to earth pretty fast, didn't he? How can that i***t, in good conscience, allow her to treat him like that? You'd think he was a one-legged, mange-ridden dog.”

Nelson looked at Jonah in all seriousness. “Jonah, don't you get it?”

Jonah stared at his friend blankly. “Get what?”

“There is someone for everyone,” said Nelson. “So it figures that he is the perfect dog…for the perfect bitch.”

Jonah burst out laughing. Even his anger with Jessica faded. It was fun. So much fun that nothing could quell it. Not Jessica, not Anthony—and not Creyton's presence in a fire with his psychotic servant.