A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5) Read online

  Each morning I snoozed my phone until quarter to six and then ran through the apartment cursing myself for being so stupid to sleep in.

  I always skipped my makeup.

  I sometimes fixed my hair in the reflection of the microwave.

  And then I double checked it in the mirror in the car.

  I didn’t have a big-time corporate job where there were punch cards and a human resources department ready to fire my ass, but I had been working at the same company since I was seventeen years old.

  My best friend’s mother started a fancy gift shop after her husband cheated on her when he turned forty. It was a way for her to cope, and to find a way to survive on her own. When the business became successful, she divorced her husband and had my best friend and I start working there to help out.

  She paid well, and I loved the job.

  I didn’t love being late…

  Which I was when my alarm went off again and it was five-forty-five.

  I hated when I snoozed so hard I didn’t even remember hitting the snooze.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I said as I kicked the covers off the bed.

  I took my long t-shirt off and ran around my bedroom naked to find a bra, panties, and some clothes.

  My bedroom was a mess, just like my life.

  But my work was spotless and meticulous.

  Which was all that mattered.

  I did some kind of one-legged kangaroo hop to get into my jeans and hurried to the kitchen.

  Of course I forgot to set my coffeepot last night.

  I didn’t have time for coffee.

  I checked my hair in the microwave, grabbed my keys and hurried out the door.

  Everyone gave me hell for living in an apartment.

  I lived in a small town where everyone had a house. Whether big or small, it was kind of foreign to rent an apartment.

  For me, the apartment life worked.

  I didn’t have to worry about a thing other than the rent.

  Plus, it was just me.

  What the hell did I want a house for?

  Ethan and I had been sort of dating for a few months now… so who knew where that was going to go.

  Maybe that was the next logical path.

  Gina wasn’t going to run the shop forever.

  That was my best friend’s mother.

  She mostly just passed through throughout the day to make sure the place was running.

  Mia and I had been running the business for years together.

  Best friends.

  Shoulder to shoulder.

  Living through it all.

  Speaking of which…

  I hurried to text Mia that I was on my way.

  There was no use in lying to her.

  She knew how I was.

  And any excuse I had was nothing to her.

  She was married with one young kid and still always made it on time.

  She met Ted at a bar one night and married him six months later. Two years after that, they had a house and a kid.

  I once asked her if she felt things were moving too fast and she told me that life moves fast, ends too soon, and that she loved her husband and kids.

  She was like a cheetah speeding through life.

  And I was a sloth trying to tie my shoes.

  I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  I got into my car and started it.

  That’s when I noticed a text message waiting.

  From the middle of the night.

  Hey. Feeling like shit. It’s all so heavy. I’m sure you’re sleeping. Ignore this when you read it. I miss you.

  From Sab.

  I took a deep breath.

  I had to respond.

  But I didn’t have time right then.

  Sometimes… I didn’t even know what to say to him.

  I flipped through the sheet of orders and pointed at each with a pen to make sure they were lined up and looked good.

  Thanks to getting the business online, things exploded.

  Mia and I worked our butts off to understand how to do business online and how to run ads to bring in new customers.

  It was amazing how many people loved, wanted and needed random gift sets.

  Whether it was for a wedding, babies, graduation, a new house, death… just because… oh, and the newest trend was divorces. People celebrating their divorces and having big parties.

  We were a part of it all.

  We took care of everything from the packaging, contents, writing notes, wrapping it up nice with fancy ribbons, all the way down to shipping and tracking.

  It came at a price, but our customer base didn’t mind the cost at all.

  “Ten going out,” I said to Mia. “The last one though… they wanted teal for the ribbon. That looks more blue than teal.”

  “Are we going to debate blue and teal?” Mia asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It looks teal to me,” she said. “It’s the lighting.”

  “It’s your eyes,” I said.

  “It’s your ass,” she said and fake laughed.

  I stood up and circled the order. “If we send that and get a complaint, you’re handling it.”

  Mia looked at it again. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll have Barb choose a different color.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I grabbed my coffee and walked away from the busy desk.

  The front of the shop was a small retail area.

  We did get foot traffic, which amazed me.

  People loved to come in and look around and get ideas that usually they would try on their own only to end up back here to buy something professional looking.

  As I walked through the front, Jess rushed to my side. “The meat guy wants to talk to you.”

  “Meat guy,” I said. “Sounds dirty.”

  “Ew. You have a dirty mind.”

  “Sometimes,” I said. “What’s he want?”

  “He wants to talk about seasonal meats,” Jess said.

  “Tell him to send us a catalog like always. I don’t need a meat pitch.”

  “Maybe you do,” Mia said from behind me.

  I turned my head.

  “Jess, go tell the meat guy what I said.”

  Jess walked away.

  “Something wrong?” Mia asked.

  “What was that comment for?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Did you forget I’m with Ethan?” I asked.

  “That’s casual.”

  “Casual meat is the best,” I said.

  Mia laughed. “Everything is casual for you. Ever since your dream boy bolted to become a famous rock star.”

  I felt my face turn red. “No. That was a long time ago.”

  “Sure thing. Did you see one of the band members died?”

  “The guy that was kicked out,” I said. “Not a current member.”

  “Oh, so sorry,” Mia said. “I should brush up on my FILTHY LINE knowledge before I talk to you.”

  I sighed. “You’re the worst person I know.”

  “Because I’m always right. How often do you talk to Sab?”

  “He texts me,” I said. “He text me last night.”

  “Really?” Mia asked. “What did he say?”

  “Just drunk stuff. I ignore those.”

  “Drunk texts from a rock star?” Mia asked. She whistled. “Does Ethan know?”

  “No,” I said.

  “That’s risky.”

  “Ethan and I are casual.”

  “You never fail to amaze me,” Mia said.

  “Just because I’m not settled doesn’t mean I’m not happy,” I said.

  “Of course not,” she said. “Come on, let’s have a cigarette.”

  “I don’t smoke. And you should quit for real. I can’t believe you stopped smoking to have two kids but then started again.”

  Mia pointed at me. “Two kids will make you start smoking again.”

  There was no use in arguing with her.

&
nbsp; We snuck out back and Mia smoked a cigarette.

  When we were teenagers, we used to sit out on the roof outside her bedroom window and smoke together. And then I’d wait until after midnight for Sab to come. I’d climb down the vines and we’d run off together for a few hours.

  Just as friends though.

  We were always good friends.

  And at that time, Sab didn’t really exist.

  It was Sebastian.

  That was his real name.

  Sebastian.

  I guess that wasn’t rock star enough.

  It made me laugh to myself thinking about it.

  That he left this Oregon town and went down to Los Angeles and wrote his own book for himself. Sebastian became Sab. And Sab became the drummer for one of the biggest bands in the world.

  I looked at my phone again.

  I reread the text.

  “Stop looking,” Mia said. “You’re going to end up confusing yourself.”

  My phone vibrated.

  “Well… here’s one for you.”

  “Another text from Sab?” Mia teased.

  “No. It’s from Ethan.”

  “Oh? Is it a dick pic?”

  I looked at Mia. “No. It’s not a dick pic. Do you and Ted… never mind.”

  “Hey, you have to keep it spicy,” Mia said. “We send pics all the time. Plus, if someone wants to get into my phone and see lopsided boobs from breastfeeding two kids plus a flabby stomach and stretch marks… have at it.”

  I loved Mia.

  Her fair skin, lots of freckles, and one eyebrow that was always higher than the other, forever made her look like she was a bitch. Which she generally was. But she was fierce and afraid of nothing. Something she learned from her mother thanks to her father.

  “No dick pic,” I said. “Not that you’d want to see Ethan’s… it’s… nah.”

  “Nah?” Mia asked.

  “It’s like a little hairless rodent.”

  Mia shook her head. “Maybe you should get some of that rock star dick then.”

  “Maybe I should,” I said. “Ethan just broke up with me. In a text.”

  Mia burst into laughter.

  She waved her hands.

  “I shouldn’t be laughing…”

  I tried to keep a straight face.

  But I laughed too.

  Ethan - and his dick - was a loser.

  And maybe Mia was right.

  Maybe I was holding out for a dream that might never come true.

  “Did you handle the meat guy?” I asked Jess.

  “Is that sexual or…?”

  “No. I didn’t ask if you handled the meat of the meat guy… there’s a big difference.”

  “How do you know it’s big?” Jess asked.

  “I’m your boss. I can fire you.”

  “You started it. I can sue you.”

  “Truce?”

  “Fine,” Jess said. “I handled the meat guy, but not his meat.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I went through the day’s orders again just to - again - check everything one more time.

  That was my superpower.

  The power of perfection with a touch of OCD.

  It worked because we rarely had complaints or mistakes.

  That was one thing Mia and I agreed upon… we were not going to accept bad work.

  Gina worked her ass off to establish the business.

  And locally, she did a decent amount of business.

  For Mia and I, we wanted to survive off the business, which meant we had a long road ahead to keep going with it.

  Mia stood at a table, writing notes by hand.

  “Still doing that?” I asked.

  Mia lifted a small card and showed it to me.

  I shook my head.

  She had the best handwriting I had ever seen in my life.

  It was like calligraphy without her really trying.

  So she sent handwritten notes to everyone who ordered something from us.

  It kind of took a lot of her time, which was a good thing because it meant we were busy. At the same time, it was a bad thing because she really spent a lot of time writing out those notes.

  She did do some of it at home, but she was getting to her breaking point with it. There were just too many orders to keep that practice going.

  “Did you text the rock star back yet?” Mia asked with a sly grin.

  “Do you really have to call him that?” I asked.

  “What? That’s what he is.”

  “It’s Sebastian.”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Mia said. She looked at me. “He’s Sab. Remember? You have to get it right. He will never be Sebastian ever again.”

  “Then call him Sab,” I said.

  “I like teasing you.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Hey,” Mia said. “Imagine if you were sexting with a rock star…”

  “Stop.”

  “Can’t I fantasize?”

  “Do you want to sext with Sab?” I asked.

  “I’m married,” Mia said.

  “Exactly.”

  “I can talk about it. Live vicariously, through you. Of course.”

  “Oh, so you found a cheating loophole?” I smiled.

  “Cheating?” Mia asked. “That’s not cheating. Like I don’t know that Ted watches porn on his phone and tries to clog the shower drain.”

  “Ew,” I said.

  “That’s not ew.”

  “Yes it is. I don’t want to picture your husband… doing that…”

  “Why?” Mia asked. “Is Ted not handsome to you?”

  I laughed. “You are a gigantic trap, Mia. Wow.”

  “I was perfectly content just handwriting notes here. You came over.”

  “And you started up on Sab.”

  “When I look at you, I see him. You two have been texting each other for how long? You’ve sabotaged every relationship… gee… I wonder why…”

  “Mia, come on.”

  “I’m just going to say it like I always do,” she said.

  I folded my arms. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  “You and Sab were always friends. Please. You two danced around each other like idiots for so long. You don’t know how many times I just wanted to smash your faces together and tell you to just kiss and get it over with. Then he left. I get it. He met some guy playing guitar and just took off. He was going to go and become famous. The truth? He was running from you, Bree. He wanted to get away from the feelings. But they never died. He became rich and famous. You stuck around here. And you two casually just check in here and there. Lately it’s been more. You know that’s true.”

  “He texts when he’s drunk.”

  “He’s a rock star. Aren’t they always drunk?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or not. There’s two different kinds of texts…”

  “Right. The sober ones. When he wants to talk about the weather. Then the drunk ones. Which are the truthful ones.”

  “Even if you’re right, there’s nothing I can do about it,” I said. “I’m here. He’s down in LA. It just doesn’t work. And I can’t even believe I’m even entertaining the idea for a second.”

  “Long weekends,” Mia said. “He’s rich. You can fly down and back in no time. I mean, if what you’ve got going between your legs is worth it.”

  “Thanks for saying that. I’m sure whatever woman he’s involved with is much better than… me…”

  “You never know,” Mia said. “You’re the one who got away. You’re the hometown flavor.”

  “Can we change the subject?” I asked.

  My phone started to ring.

  I didn’t recognize the number but I answered just to not have to talk about Sab anymore.

  The voice on the other end of the line was serious and somber.

  He asked my name.

  He introduced himself as a police officer.

  And he…

  I looked at Mia.

  “Bree,
what’s wrong?” she asked.

  I tossed the phone toward Mia and fell to the floor.

  My mother was dead.

  3

  SAB

  The five of us stood outside SLECK Records, dressed as nice as filthy rock stars like us could dress. We still had ripped jeans and t-shirts on, but we threw a nice-looking jacket over the shirts and we looked semi-presentable.

  Toby was the first to the microphone.

  “The band will be making a statement on the passing of Mitchy,” Toby said. “There will be no questions asked. I ask you to let them speak and then we will release more information on the tribute show as we approach it. As of now, the plan is to hold an acoustic set in the parking lot here. Free for fans. We will be asking for donations. All the money will go to support those in recovery and in need of recovery.”

  “So are you telling us the entire band is now clean after this tragedy?” someone yelled.

  This was the bullshit I feared.

  I didn’t want money involved in Mitchy’s death.

  Toby brought it up.

  We argued it.

  Then the fucking executives at SLECK stepped in and said we needed to do something.

  It was bullshit.

  Yeah, Mitchy lost his life to drugs. He loved to party. That was his way of going out. It was sad that he was alone in some motel. Did he have a problem? Yeah. Could he have used help? Yeah. Would he have stayed clean? No way in hell.

  And the band itself… clean…

  “The personal lives of the band aren’t what we’re here to talk about,” Toby said.

  “Isn’t it a bit hypocritical?” the same person yelled.

  I jumped forward and knocked Toby out of the way.

  “Sab, don’t,” Nash said.

  Too late.

  “If you want some cheap, gossipy story, go find Raunchy Recks. Got it? It doesn’t matter about us. I don’t even want to collect money for this. It wasn’t our idea. Mitchy was our good friend. An original member of the band. And unless you knew him personally, let me say this one time. Get your censors ready… Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

  I stepped back from the mic.

  “That was subtle,” Jay said.

  “Eat shit, Jay,” I said.

  Nash hurried to the mic. “As you all can see here, this has hit us hard. We actually just saw Mitchy not too long ago. He always passed through the city at random times. Sometimes he looked okay. Sometimes he didn’t. This time he didn’t. We’re not here to lecture anyone about drug use, abuse or help. We’re here to just say a few words about Mitchy. Some of our early hits came from his crazy mind…”