Third Life

by Noelle Adams

My lips part. I have no idea what’s happening here.

  Richard glances away. Clears his throat. “I don’t want to push things. Move too fast. I know there’s a natural progression to these things. And I don’t want to jump the gun just because I’ve never... never felt like...” He trails off.

  I’ve never once seen Richard at such a loss for words. My confused anxiety suddenly transforms to pure excitement. “Richard, you know perfectly well I’ve never felt like this before either. You’re not moving too fast. At least I don’t think you are. So say what you want to say.”

  His features relax slightly. He gives me a little smile. “How would you feel if I were to... think about relocating?”

  “Relocating? You mean you’d... you’d move?” My eyes get very wide.

  “Of course I would. I don’t have anything in New York worth staying for. At least nothing that compares to what’s in Boston.”

  “But what about your business? Could you just move like that?” My voice squeaks a little. I really can’t believe what I’m hearing. When I thought about the future with Richard, I always assumed it would be easier for me to move since my work isn’t geographically bound.

  “Yes. Probably. But the truth is I’m thinking...” He clears his throat again and stares up at the ceiling. “The truth is I’m thinking about making a change there too.”

  “What? Are you serious? Richard, what are you talking about? You’re thinking about doing something else? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  His face twists slightly. He’s still not looking at me. “It’s only recently that the thought has coalesced in my mind like this. Before then, it was just this general churning dissatisfaction. I didn’t like what I was doing. I wanted to make a change. But the truth is it never occurred to me that a change was really possible. I’d always assumed I’d feel the same way, no matter what I was doing.” He finally turns his head and meets my eyes again. “But I feel different with you. I feel... better. And it makes me feel even worse about... about not being the man I think I want to be.”

  “Is your...” I have to swallow hard and start again. “Is your job so bad? What do you...?”

  He sighs. “I’m a fixer, Gillian. That’s what they call me. I fix problems.” When he sees my face, he hurries on. “It’s not like what you’ve seen in movies. I don’t go around having people killed or kidnapped or... I don’t do anything like that. I never have. I don’t even break the law. In fact, the reason I get a lot of business is because I can get things done without ever breaking the law, so my clients are legally protected. It’s why I’m in such high demand. But there are ways to... to not really be right—do right—even if you’re in the bounds of the law. And I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  “Richard.”

  “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Gillian. I still do sometimes. For the past couple of years, I’ve avoided jobs I knew would make me feel... sick. But a lot of what I do just isn’t right. Even if it’s legal, it isn’t right.”

  “Richard.” I don’t know why I say his name again. I don’t know what else to say.

  “Do you hate me now?” His eyes search my face urgently. “I didn’t want you to know this about me. That I... I’m not really a good man.”

  “I knew you did something like that,” I tell him, my throat so tight it’s hard to speak through. “I already knew it was something like that. I figured you worked in the gray.”

  “That’s what it is.” His mouth has softened, like he’s relieved. Like he’s almost hopeful. “The gray. But I don’t want to stay there. I don’t... I used to be fine with it. It felt like I was... claiming some sort of power in a world that didn’t give a damn about me. But for the past few years now, I’ve been living with this weight in the pit of my stomach. And the only times I haven’t felt it are when I’m with you.” He reaches out to take my hand again. “When I’m the man I want to be with you.”

  “Then be him,” I say. Tears are streaming down my cheeks again. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me lately because I’ve never been a big crier. “Richard, be him.”

  “I’m going to try.” His blue eyes are still searching my face, desperately looking for something there. “Baby, so you think... I haven’t scared you away with this?”

  “No! Of course not. I’m not a fool, Richard. I knew you worked in the gray. But I also knew you were more than that. If you want to move to Boston, if you want to do something different, there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier.”

  He makes a little sound. It’s almost—almost—like a sob. Then he reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug. “Oh baby, thank you. I’ve never wanted you to know, to see that side of me. I wanted you to only see the best of me, and I’ve been so scared you’d find out the truth about who I am and not want me anymore. I wanted...”

  “What did you want, Richard?”

  He gives a huff of dry amusement, like he’s laughing at himself. “I wanted you to be proud of me.”

  “I am proud of you! I’m so proud of you, Richard. To realize that about yourself, to want to make a change so huge, so hard... I’m so proud of you. It’s not like I’m some perfect specimen of moral character, you know. We all mess up. We all screw up. We all hurt people we don’t want to hurt. We all fail. You think I would judge you for trying to do better?”

  “No. No.” He’s still holding me tightly. “But you’ve never done the kinds of things I’ve done. You can be sweet and understanding about how you’re not perfect too, but there’s a difference.”

  “Maybe. But I care about the man I know. The man you’ve been with me.”

  He finds my lips and kisses me long and deep. Then he hugs me again.

  “I know you haven’t always been good,” I say, a kind of joy filling my heart that I’ve never experienced before. “And I get that you feel guilty about it and want to do better. But you’ve always been good to me.”

  I feel him freeze for a moment. “Gillian,” he says hoarsely.

  I pull away so I can see his face, my eyes wide and confused. “What? What’s the matter?”

  Something shudders in the air between us for just a moment. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. Then Richard gives his head a little shake. “Nothing. Just that I promise I’m going to do better. I promise I’m going to be better. I’m not going to be that man again.”

  I smile, relaxing since he is. Whatever that weird moment was is now gone. I probably just imagined it. “You should be the man you want to be. I know you can do it. So if you move, what would you do? With your skills and experience, I’m sure you’d get a bunch of offers.”

  “Probably. But I’d really rather own my own business. Be my own boss. I’ve been looking around some for businesses for sale in Boston.”

  “Richard! You’ve been doing all that without telling me?”

  “Well, I wanted to have some sort of plan first so you wouldn’t think I’m some sort of pathetic leech who was going to drop myself in your lap and expect you to support me.”

  I laugh at how ridiculous such an idea is, and I tell him so.

  “Anyway, there’s a coffee shop. It’s got good business—a lot of loyal customers—and potential for growth. The owner wants to sell it but doesn’t want it to close or turn into something else. I talked to him a couple of days ago. There might be potential there.”

  “You want to own a coffee shop?”

  Richard gives his little shrug. “Why not? I’ve got a lot of savings, so the financing would be no problem. It sounds as good as anything else. I think I could be good at it. I just want to do something. Something worthwhile. Something I could be proud of.”

  I hug him for that, and we talk through possibilities. He tells me where the coffee shop is, and I realize I’ve passed by it several times. Maybe even stopped in for coffee once or twice.

  For the first time, the very first time, I see a vision for our future that isn’t clouded by a job he can’t talk about and a life that’
s lived in the shadows.

  Maybe it’s possible. Maybe we can build a life together. A real life. Together.

  Because that’s exactly what I want.

  THAT EVENING, WE GO to eat in a little pub Richard likes just a couple of blocks away. We walk since it’s close, but it’s a chillier evening than I realized, and I didn’t put a jacket on, so I’m cold when we arrive.

  As we step inside, I’m shivering, so Richard laughingly wraps his arms around me to warm me up.

  I’ve been in a gushy mood since my talk with Richard this afternoon. I mean, it’s a high like I’ve never experienced before. I honestly think that one more good thing will send me right over the edge, and I’ll fall over a cliff of pure giddiness forevermore.

  So his teasing attempt to warm me up makes me giggle like a fool. I bury my face in his sweater. Wonder if this is how it feels to be in love.

  I’ve never done it before. Been in love. I honestly don’t know if this is what it’s like.

  Because I’m in this particular state, because I’m physically this close to Richard, and because I’m currently acutely attuned to every detail of his body and expression, I can feel the shift in his mood immediately.

  He was chuckling warmly and rubbing my back just a moment ago, but now he tightens. Stiffens. Grows still.

  I pull away and peer at him questioningly, having no clue what’s going on but not liking the change.

  He’s not looking at me. He’s looking over my shoulder, so I turn to see what’s diverted him.

  It’s a woman. It has to be her that caused this reaction since she’s the only person who has moved into view since we entered.

  She’s attractive with dark hair and a slim, polished appearance. She looks to be in her forties. She’s giving Richard the coldest look I’ve ever seen on a human face. Like ice. Not just like she’s stunned to see him, but like she hates him.

  I can’t breathe. Literally can’t breathe for a minute as I turn back to Richard.

  “Let’s find a seat,” he murmurs to me, wrenching his eyes away from the woman and not looking at her again.

  The woman was evidently getting a couple of beers to take back to her table. She’s got two in her hands. She’s stopped. Not moving. Still staring at Richard.

  My skin has grown clammy as Richard puts a hand on my back and guides me out of the entrance, past the woman he’s obviously trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

  “Richard Steele,” she says.

  He can’t exactly ignore that. He gives the woman a brief nod of acknowledgment—no hint of a smile—and pushes me past her.

  I go with him. Of course I do. But I turn and give the woman one more look over my shoulder to discover she’s still watching Richard and me as we walk away.

  I was so happy just a minute ago, but now all that giddiness is freezing into fear. I have no idea why, but I know one thing for sure.

  The appearance of that woman is the prelude to something terrible. Richard can pretend to ignore it all he wants, but it’s not going to go away.

  I’m scared to ask the question. Scared of what the answer will be. But I’m going to ask it anyway because I have to know.

  “Who was that, Richard? Who was that woman? What was that all about?”

  Nine

  RICHARD DOESN’T ANSWER immediately, so I repeat the question as he skillfully maneuvers us into a cozy corner table that just opened up. “Who was that?”

  “A woman I used to know.” He’s stiff. Pretending to smile and relax but not really doing so at all.

  I frown at him. “Richard, you’re not really going to leave it at that, are you?”

  I can see on his face the moment he relents. He admits, “We had a... kind of thing. It didn’t end well. She doesn’t like me.” He shakes his head. “At all.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing on purpose, but I didn’t... I didn’t treat her as well as I should have. She has every right to dislike me. I’d forgotten she works in this area.”

  “Oh. Well. It’s not really a big deal, is it?”

  “No. Of course not. Just not what I...” He sighs. “We were in a good mood.”

  “Well, maybe we can find the mood again.”

  I might have hoped that would have settled the subject, but it doesn’t really. We both act as though things are good. We smile and laugh and enjoy our food and drink. But I can sense that Richard’s distracted. Occasionally I catch him glancing around, as if verifying that the woman isn’t in sight. I haven’t seen her since that first encounter, so I assume she’s either in a different room or she’s left.

  Richard doesn’t relax though, which means I can’t relax either.

  There’s still a soft clanging of alarm bells in my mind, warning me that doom is coming. It’s almost here.

  I drink too much because I feel unsettled, so after a while I need to use the bathroom. I find it in a far corner. It’s a tiny, cramped affair, but I make use of it, wash my hands, and tell myself that one random encounter with an old girlfriend or sex partner isn’t a big deal.

  It shouldn’t be a big deal. Obviously I know that Richard has a history with women. It doesn’t really matter to what we are together right now.

  But this has bothered Richard. Rattled him. He’s pretending it hasn’t, but I know it has. Even as I was standing up to go to the bathroom, I saw him looking around almost urgently, as if verifying that the woman wasn’t around for me to run into on my way there.

  He doesn’t want me to talk to her.

  It’s strange.

  When I’ve composed myself and settled my flare of nerves, I open the door to return to our table. The first thing I see is the woman. She’s standing right outside the bathroom door.

  It has to be intentional. She must have seen me enter and come over to wait on purpose. She doesn’t look remotely surprised when I step out. Not the way I’m surprised.

  I have no idea who she is or what her problem is, but I don’t like the way she’s looking at me—mean and lofty and almost amused, as if she knows a lot more than I do. It also feels like a betrayal of Richard to talk to her when he clearly doesn’t want me to.

  So I say coolly, “Excuse me” and try to push past her.

  She sidesteps so she’s right in my way. “He’s not who you think he is.” She has an American accent even though she evidently lives in London.

  I blink. “What?” If I was smarter or more composed, I’d just keep walking, but I’m startled. I’m not used to open hostility like this. I’m more stunned than anything else.

  “He’s not who you think he is. Richard. I know how you feel about him. I can see it. And I’m telling you that you’re going to get your heart crushed.”

  My mind finally catches up to my surprise. I narrow my eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I do know. I know better than you. I’ve lived it before. He made me feel the same way. He made me feel like I was the most special person in the world.”

  “I’m sorry if you got hurt, but that has nothing to do with—”

  “It has everything to do with it. That’s what he does. Surely you’ve seen how easily he can make you believe what he wants you to believe. He’ll make you believe he’s falling in love with you. Then he’ll take what he wants from you without hesitating. Because it’s his job. It’s his job. That’s what he does.”

  My head feels like it’s going to explode, and my fingers and toes are as cold as ice. I try again to get past her. “That’s not why we’re together.”

  “Isn’t it? So you’ve never had access to information that one of his clients might have wanted to get their hands on? That’s what he wanted from me. I can see you’ve already fallen for him, but take it from someone who knows. He’s not who you think he is.”

  “I know who he is. Now please leave me alone.” I’m saying it, trying to believe it, but my voice wobbles just a little.

  “You can blame me if you want. You can think I’
m a vindictive bitch who wants to get back at him for breaking my heart. But I can tell you’re not stupid. So you better think through the possibilities. It looks like he’s in love with you. For all I know, maybe he is. But I guarantee he had an agenda with you at the beginning. He’s never done anything without an agenda. And that agenda will eventually come back to bite you in the ass—just like it did to me.”

  My mouth falls open. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything at all.

  “Gillian.” It’s Richard’s soft, familiar voice. He’s approaching quickly. He wraps an arm around my back when he reaches me. “What are you doing talking to her?”

  What am I doing? I stare at him blankly.

  He shoots a quick look at the woman before he pulls me away. “Come on, baby. Let’s head back.”

  I go with him. I don’t have the will to resist even if I wanted to. And I do want desperately to get away from that woman. That voice. The words that she said.

  But I heard them. I heard them.

  And they brought back all those little flickers of doubt that have faded away through time and space and the flood of so many other emotions that followed in Richard’s wake.

  But those doubts were there. At the very beginning. I remember them now.

  The flat tire. Such a strange thing to happen with such a high-quality car service. Not impossible but unusual. And then Richard’s car coming so close behind mine, allowing him to be right there to pick me up.

  The way he made a beeline for me at the hotel bar when men have never, never, never done that with me.

  I’m not the girl men go for. I’ve never been that girl. I’ve always been mostly invisible.

  Am I really so foolish as to believe that this basic fact of my existence suddenly disappeared the moment I met Richard?

  He never should have talked to me.

  He never should have approached me at all.

  I knew it was strange. I knew it felt off. Artificial. Wrong. I seriously considered the possibility that he was a spy or something, trying to seduce me into turning.

  But I know no state secrets. I have no access to anything of value. Not to government spy services, at least. So I determined the idea was ridiculous.