Keep Me If You Can (If You Can #3)

10. Vengeance But In A Fun Way

Chapter ten

Vengeance But In A Fun Way

“Y ou’re not going to tell him you know?”

Sydney stared into her beer. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Syd—”

“I know.” She sighed and picked up her beer. “I need to tell Clara.”

She said Olivier’s wife’s name like they knew each other. They didn’t, but given the deep dive Sydney had done on social media, I understood why the past four days made it feel like she’d known her for four years.

The day after we found out, Sydney had skipped class. I’d gone over once mine were done expecting to find her moping in bed or maybe on the couch, trashy TV on with candy wrappers and melted ice cream surrounding her. Not that I wanted my best friend to be suffering, but secretly, I was almost disappointed to find her dressed and showered and sitting at her kitchen table in front of her laptop instead of surrounded by chocolate I could steal.

“Are you studying?” I’d asked as I kicked my shoes off.

“In a way,” she’d replied.

And that was when I’d walked behind her and saw all the tabs she’d opened as she tracked down Clara Bouchon-Leville.

Those tabs had stayed open most of the week, if not on her laptop, then at least in her mind. She’d only skipped one day of classes, but it was the weekend before I convinced her to go out for a couple of beers with me at Lou’s. But even as we ordered a plate of mozza sticks and chicken wings and the two-for-one happy hour special on draft beer, it was clear she was still thinking about Olivier’s wife.

“Technically, you don’t need to tell her,” I said as carefully as I could. “But—”

“But I should, and everyone will judge me if I don’t, and even though I want to walk away and forget this whole thing, I’m supposed to be a girl’s girl.” She took another long sip of beer. “That’s what I’d say, if this was happening to someone else. But once it’s happening to you …”

“It’s not that easy,” I said.

“I thought if I didn’t tell Olivier I knew, it would give me time to figure out… you know.” She waved a vague hand. “How. But he’s starting to wonder why I haven’t called him back.”

I twisted my mouth to the side, thinking. “Well, I think the problem is we have too many options.”

Sydney raised her eyebrows. “We do? And what do you mean, we?”

“We do,” I said. “And I mean ‘we’ as in ‘we, ’ as in I’m your best friend and like hell am I letting you figure this out by yourself. Especially when it can be so much fun.”

Sydney looked at me incredulously. “Fun. You think this is going to be fun?”

“I think getting vengeance on that doorknob is going to be fun in that it’ll be satisfying,” I said. “Like not ‘Oh yay a day at the circus’ fun but like… you know. ‘My name is Inigo Montoya’ fun.”

That drew a light chuckle out of her. “I don’t think Inigo Montoya would necessarily call that fun .”

“Whatever.” I straightened up a bit and pulled in closer to the table. “Okay. We could get them to go out to another benefit or event or something and then they’d need to hire a babysitter. So we get them to hire you, not knowing it’s you—”

“This sounds like the start of a bad porno,” Sydney said. “But also—”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “They hire me as the babysitter, and Olivier’s just sweating, right? And he’s so concerned that I’m going to do something that he doesn’t realize until it’s too late that you’re at the event too, and bam !” I slapped my hand on the table. “You pull out the receipts and show Clara and she kicks his ass to the curb.”

She jumped when I slapped the table, but started laughing in earnest.

“Why do you need to be there as the babysitter?” she asked. “And also, why do they need a babysitter? I’m pretty sure they don’t have kids.”

“I’m hearing a lot of problems and not a lot of solutions, Syd,” I said. “But fine, we can scrap the babysitter. What if we just show up at the event—”

“What event?” she asked, cackling.

“The one we’re planning as a charade to catch Olivier. Keep up.” I snapped my fingers. “So we plan the event, we show up and cause a huge scene—”

“But wouldn’t the event have to be in Montreal?” she asked. “Your dad wouldn’t be super thrilled if you caused a scene.”

That was a good point. “Fine. What if we get someone to seduce Clara so she can get revenge?”

“I think it would be more likely for you to seduce Olivier. Clara’s socials have a lot of Jesus-y things on them.”

“Not a chance. First of all, I have standards.”

“You do not,” she shot back.

She was starting to sound like the Sydney I knew and I grinned. “I have some standards. Olivier is a limp, unwashed salad of soggy lettuce, stale croutons, and male disappointment. And second of all, Olivier knows who I am. He’s a dumbass, but he’s not stupid.”

She pursed her lips. “Good point. Maybe Anne-Marie could seduce him.”

“Ooh!” I said, perking up. “Anne-Marie and Remy could play their little jealousy game.”

“I don’t think we want to put Remy in that position, though,” Sydney said carefully.

“Shit. Good point.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “So are we back to trying to seduce Clara? Jesus-y stuff on her socials doesn’t mean she isn’t open to doing things other than praying while she’s on her knees.”

“Who would even seduce her?”

“JP.”

The answer left my lips faster than it should have, and with far more confidence than was warranted. Especially since the whole thing was meant to be an over-the-top joke to cheer Sydney up.

“JP,” Sydney repeated. “You think he’d do that?”

“JP loves justice,” I said. “This would be right up his alley.”

“Clara doesn’t seem like his type,” she said.

“I mean, she’s curvy and hot, so I’m pretty sure she is,” I said. “But I can promise him anal again. I could probably get him to do anything from suck on my toes to clean my bathroom with that.”

Her laughter was interrupted by gags. “That’s disgusting.”

“The toe-sucking or the bathroom cleaning?” I asked. “Because my bathroom’s not that bad, but also, no kink-shaming.”

“You don’t have a foot fetish,” she said. “I would know about it by now.”

I shrugged. “True. But either way, if you want me to take one for the team, I’ll tell JP he can put it in my butt if he seduces Clara.”

“JP could put it in your butt by asking nicely,” she said.

“Not true,” I argued. “I’d still consider it if he asked meanly.”

By the time we paid our bills, Sydney was more herself than she had been. At the very least, she felt a lot less guilty, which was the whole point, really. It wasn’t her fault Olivier was a cheater. And she definitely hadn’t known he was married. And he was the one stupid enough to continue the charade for months instead of being a cheating prick for one night and then never calling Sydney again.

That being said, I was still livid on her behalf. So livid that I was still thinking about a couple of days later instead of paying attention to Dr. Spitzki’s pathology lecture and decided it might be worth finding out if one of our unlikely plans might be possible.

Me

Would you seduce a guy’s wife to get revenge on said guy for cheating on said wife?

Like always, JP replied almost immediately.

Bastard

Hypothetically? Or are you asking for another favour?

Well, it wasn’t an instant no. So that was good.

Me

Maybe both

Bastard

I’m gonna need more context

I glanced up. Dr. Spitzki was pacing the front of the lecture hall and showing off his incredible talent for making something as interesting and morbid as wound ballistics sound less entertaining than reading the windshield wiper blade catalog at Canadian Tire. Not that it mattered; he liked to wander around without his glasses on and wouldn’t have seen me looking at my phone anyway.

So I started texting JP back. But I was barely into the story when the Captain’s voice blared out of my phone, asking if the kids were ready, and the Spongebob Squarepants theme started playing.

“Bastard,” I muttered, which was both an exclamation of frustration and the name that was flashing on my screen.

“Ms. Belanger,” Dr. Spitzki said. “How many times do I—”

“I know,” I said, grabbing my laptop and shoving it into my bag as I stood up. “I’m going.”

“Could you silence the damn thing while you go?” he asked sarcastically.

“Sure.” I tapped the screen. “Hello, Nellie speaking. How can I help you?”

“That is not what I—”

But I’d already pushed the classroom door open and ducked into the hallway.

“You sound hot when you talk all formal like that,” JP said. “How’s it going, babe?”

“It was better before you got me kicked out of class,” I said. “Thanks for that, asshole.”

He started laughing. “It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention in class.”

“It is your fault that you’re an impatient dickhead who couldn’t wait for me to text him back.”

“Well, I figured after three minutes of watching the typing dots that this was pretty complex for a hypothetical and that it would be easier to call and get the details.”

He was right, of course, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Whatever. So you know my friend, Sydney?”

“Yeah, the one fucking the—oh fuck, no,” he said. “Nope. I would not do that.”

“You don’t even know—”

“She’s sleeping with a cop, right? The cop she met back in the spring at that bachelor party where you had a threesome with those two other guys?”

I plunked myself on a bench down the hall from Dr. Spitzki’s class and rubbed my fingernail along my thumb, frustrated JP had put the dots together so quickly. “How did you even remember that?”

“I remember a lot of the hot-as-fuck stories you tell me,” he said. “So it’s the same guy?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So no. Hard pass. No way.”

“Not even if I promised you anal again?”

“Babe, you could promise me anal, a threesome, a foursome, an-as-many-as-you-can-find-some, and daily blowjobs for the rest of my life and I still wouldn’t fuck a cop’s wife.”

“Even if he’s the kind of cop who cheats on her for months?”

“So, a typical cop?” he asked dryly, but I heard the smile in his voice as I snickered. “Yes, even then. Jeez, Nellie. That’s, like, one of the top lawyer life rules. Don’t fuck with cops.”

My quiet giggle trailed off and I sighed miserably. “But he hurt my friend. How am I supposed to get back at him if it’s against the rules?”

“Last I checked, despite all the times you’ve stated that it’s your dream career and a lifelong desire you’re simply desperate to fulfill, you’re not a lawyer,” he said. “It’s a rule for me . I’m not saying don’t get back at him. I’m saying I’m not seducing his wife.”

“Well, how am I supposed to get back at him, then?” I asked. “It’s not like I can seduce his wife. I’m fairly certain she’s straight.”

“Which leads to the question of how seducing his wife gets back at him,” he said. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to tell her and ask if she wants revenge?”

I picked at my thumbnail, twisting my mouth to the side.

“Look, I’m assuming you know how to find this woman,” JP said when I didn’t say anything. “Why don’t you tell her what he did and call it a day?”

“If it were you, would you be satisfied with that?”

He hummed in concession. “Fair point. But I know you, Nell. This shady, underhanded shit isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me that well.”

“Babe,” he said.

“Don’t call me babe,” we both said at the same time, and I groaned.

“See?” he said, laughing.

“Fuck you.”

“Mmm, I’d love to,” he said. “Which brings me to the reason I called, actually.”

“To get the rest of the story about why I want you to seduce a cop’s wife?”

“Nah, but I figured two birds, one stone. I was going to call you later anyway.”

It was my turn to put the dots together. I stared down at my hands and hoped the way my heartbeat had just skipped wouldn’t show through my voice. “Are you coming to Ottawa for another client meeting?”

“Good guess,” he said. “But, ah, not specifically.”

“Oh. Apparently that dot-to-dot was harder than I thought,” I said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Nothing. What’s going on, then?”

“Well, uh…” JP cleared his throat. “Look, I need a favour.”

“ Do you?” I asked, not bothering to hide my delight. “My, how the turntables.”

He chuckled, but it was far more forced than usual. My glee at having one over JP dropped into guilt at the tension suddenly filling his voice.

“The turntables have turned, for sure,” he said. “Especially because I know this is a big ask. Probably too big.”

I ran my fingernail along my thumb. “You want me to come to Montreal for something.”

“Another good guess,” he said. “But no.”

I frowned. “You need me to ask my dad for something?”

“Also no. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.”

I sighed in annoyance. “Are you gonna tell me what it is instead of being all cryptic or can I hang up and go to the library to finish my case study of the week?”

“It’s this thing for a, uh, client,” he said. “A prospective client, I mean. I have a huge opportunity to meet with them—a life-changing opportunity, it’s that big of a thing—but this client is focused on, uh… appearances. And has assumed I’m in a relationship.”

My stomach sank. “Is that so?”

He let out a sigh of his own. “You’ve connected the dots already, haven’t you?”

“I am pretty good at dot-to-dots,” I said. “This one’s either you a picture of a lion in a party hat or you wanting me to be your fake girlfriend.”

He let out a half-laugh that was semi-serious, a sound I wasn’t used to hearing from JP. “Well, yeah. Except it’s worse than that.”

“Worse than a lion in a party hat?”

“Very much so. Because the client wants to meet during this personal development conference. In Mont Tremblant. So it’s kind of an overnight thing and he’s made it clear he expects me to bring a… my… girlfriend. The girlfriend he thinks I have.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You’d get a free trip to Mont Tremblant out of it,” he said, like he already knew exactly how tempting that wasn’t.

“And you figured I owe you one from the summer,” I said.

“I know that’s what it looks like,” he said. “It’s not the case, but it’s a fair thing to assume.”

I brought my thumbnail to my mouth and chewed on it. “Okay. So if it’s not that, then why does it have to be me?”

“Because you get it,” he said simply.

A warm sensation spread over my skin and into my chest. Which sucked, because it was kind of making me want to agree to it. “You know it sounds exactly like the kind of thing my dad would ask me to do.”

“Yeah. Which is why it’s killing me to ask. I hate how he treats you.”

More warmth. Ugh. “What if I say no?”

“Then you say no.”

I picked at my nails again. “You’ll be upset about it, though. And what about your client?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said. “And no. I won’t. It’s entirely up to you. I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, you know? The only thing I’ll be upset about is not getting to fuck you in Mont Tremblant.”

“I mean, it would just be a hotel room,” I said.

He scoffed, some of the playfulness returning to his voice. “You think I wouldn’t find somewhere more creative than a hotel room to fuck you? There’s a ton of stuff to do in Mont Tremblant. We could fuck on a boat tour, during a hike, on the zipline—”

“How would we fuck on a zipline?” I asked.

“Carefully,” he said. “And we’ve never fucked in a hotel room anyway. We could hit two of them.”

I frowned. “It would be two nights?”

“No,” he said. “Your room and my room.”

“We’d have separate rooms?” I asked skeptically.

“Well, of course,” he said. “I don’t want to risk you not having your own bed, so I’d book you a separate room.”

“You’re joking.”

“Or am I tempting fate? How are we supposed to do the whole ‘It’s the last available room and there’s only one bed’ thing if we don’t book two rooms in the first place?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s for romance books. You better not fall in love with me during this trip.”

“Trust me, that won’t be happening during this trip,” he said with unwavering and relieving certainty. “But does that mean you’re agreeing to it?”

“I guess I could spend a weekend getting fucked in Mont Tremblant,” I said. “When is it?”

“Well, uh… that’s the thing,” he said haltingly. “It’s kind of… not… on a weekend. It’s this Friday.”

Oh.

Shit.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said after a moment. “I knew it would be asking a lot. I can figure something else out.”

Yes, I wanted to say. You should figure something else out. Because if I wasn’t going to skip class to spend an extra day in Toronto seeing my mom, there was no way I was going to do it for JP Marchand.

Although, my mom was asking for me to skip class because she wanted to take a vacation, and JP was asking because he’d do the same for me.

I knew without a doubt he’d do the same for me.

“I can make it work,” I said.

“What?”

“I said I can make it work, old man,” I repeated. “Check your hearing.”

“Nell, if—”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

And for once, JP kept his mouth shut.