Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 34 - Blinded by the Light

I wake up alone.  Not that I’m surprised.  Even if Drake came back to our room last night, he probably would have been repelled by my stench.  I didn’t bother showering.  Hell, I didn’t bother even taking my sweaty clothes off other than my shoes and socks.  

Yeah, it was kind of on purpose. 

I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, but I dropped as soon as I had the quilt tucked under my chin.  And slept the whole night through.  No dreams, no waking.  Nothing but rest. 

It’s freaking cold in here and I hop up to get the fire going again.  I’m no Girl Scout, but I manage to get a decent fire started before I head to the bathroom.  I keep my mind occupied with stupid things like what to wear for the review and where I’ll be going next.  Diversion so I don’t think about the big things.  And so I don’t have to think about Drake and Allison kissing and where he’s been all night. 

Hair and makeup done, teeth brushed and flossed and every other bathroom-duty checked off, I walk back into the bed room and pull up short. 

“Hey,” Drake stands there in the same clothes as last night. 

“Hey,” I answer back, tucking my towel a little more securely around me, “Just get back?”  I don’t wait for his answer before turning to my clothes to search for something appropriate to wear – like I actually know what’s appropriate to wear at a review board in Hell. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, “Look,” 

“You look tired,” I cut him off, “I’ll just be another second while I dress and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Claire,” he frowns. 

“I am your guardian, Drake, not your – mother,” I almost said girlfriend, “Have a wonderful day with Sherri while I go to hell.”  I close the walk-in closet door and dress quickly.  I don’t have a lot to choose from, but I pick a pair of raw-silk pants in black and an emerald silk blouse.  I layer a black cashmere cardigan over it and top it off with a pair of black satin kitten-pumps with black sequins across the tops.  

When I step out, Drake is in the bathroom.  I grab my purse, phone and IPad.  And then my laptop.  I have some time – I really should check in again. 

There are two conversations going on as I walk to the kitchen – both equally interesting.  Sherri and Allison are whispering about Drake and me on one side of the room and Clark and Moira are whispering about me on the other side. 

I feel like I just walked into the junior-high cafeteria all over again. 

“So hot.” 

“Why her?” 

“So proud.” 

“What the heck?” 

Jojo would have booked it out the front door and as far away from this as possible.  She doesn’t do conflict.  Ever. 

Thus her cat obsession and stream of broken hearts.  Drake’s right in a way – she’s a doormat. 

I – however – am not. 

“Good morning, everyone.  So glad that I’m the topic of conversation this morning, but unfortunately the press-conference won’t be until this evening.  You two,” I glare at the women, “Can speculate on the back porch.  Scurry off now,” I shoo them out with my hands until they close the door. 

Moira is trying very hard not to laugh.  Clark’s wings flutter in an “Oh you did not just do that” twitch.  

Oh yes I did.  And I’ll do it again.  Drake can screw himself.  I don’t need a man – never have and never will.  Done and dusted – I am Drake’s guardian – not his girlfriend or anything else.