Asking For A Friend

by Parker, Ali

  Patience was something I had in spades. I had to learn how to be patient working in the industry that I’d chosen to work in. Having to wait for a building to take shape from the first meeting with a client until the eventual ribbon cutting taught me how to wait. Things worth waiting for didn’t happen overnight. I was fine with that.

  I understood why Marissa needed to take things slowly with Annie in the picture, and I respected her for doing it.

  Just as I was about done getting dressed, I heard a faint knock on my door. Not expecting anyone, I frowned before I put two and two together. Craig would have called, Marissa knew I was coming over soon, my father could no longer come calling—only that wasn’t quite true. He could come calling, he simply did it via Mr. Clayton Reeve. My shoulders sagged under a weight that hadn’t been placed on them yet, but that I knew was imminent.

  My building had a doorman, but Craig, Marissa and my father’s lawyer were all on my list of people he could admit. I was starting to regret my decision to give the lawyer that access. All I asked when he delivered the last video was that he gave me a heads up next time before he came around.

  His timing was as shitty as always, and once again I was caught completely off guard. By the time I buttoned up my pants and made it to the door, the knocking had become insistent and loud.

  The only person it could be was Reeve. Swinging open the door to face the lawyer, I scowled at him and held out my hand. “If it’s not too much trouble, please call next time. I’m on my way out. You would have missed me if you’d arrived ten minutes later.”

  “I didn’t arrive ten minutes later,” he said, smoothing an already mirror smooth tie. “I arrived now. Good morning, Mr. Bridges. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  I didn’t miss that he, once again, didn’t promise to let me know when he’d be coming back to deliver the next video. He placed another flash drive in my hand and without coming in or saying anything else, he turned on his heel and left again.

  Glancing down at my watch, I saw that it was nearly time to leave for Marissa’s. The flash drive felt like it was burning a hole in my palm though. If I left without knowing what was on it, there was no way I was going to be able to focus properly on Annie or Marissa.

  They deserved my attention today, but my dad had come and stolen that away from them. Figured. Finally, I decided to plug the drive in, get the gist of what was on it and then go to Marissa’s.

  If I knew if it was just another lecture, or that he was finally going to reveal what this master plan was, I would be able to pay attention without being distracted by the video all day. The door slammed behind me as I flicked it shut and jogged to my study.

  My computer was already on, since I’d used it to check in with the office this morning, so I only had to move the mouse to wake the screen up. Plugging in the drive, I waited for the video to load and then my dad was there again.

  He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on in the first video, which led me to believe he had recorded them on the same day. In his office again, there wasn’t any telltale positioning of his webcam before he started. He simply slid back into his seat and carried on talking as if no time had elapsed between the two videos. I assumed that for him, there hadn’t.

  “I didn’t talk to you about your mother enough,” he began, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “She was a good woman, Layton. Losing her broke my heart, though I suspect you already know that.”

  I hadn’t, actually. I wondered, since there was never another significant woman in his life and he didn’t even make time for me anymore, but he never confirmed that to me. Not until now.

  “She was kind and warm, and she had a way of making everyone feel instantly at home.” He smiled fondly, shaking his head. “But she was also stubborn, she never stopped talking and didn’t believe in taking no for an answer. Ever.”

  I was mesmerized by his telling me about my mom. I couldn’t remember hearing him talk about her once. Leaning forward, I got even closer to the screen as I absorbed every word he spoke. “The day I met her, I knew she was special. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. It would be lying to tell you that I knew it was love. I didn’t. Love doesn’t work that way, at least not for me. All I knew was that I wanted more of her. I wanted to know what made her tick and how she could be so bubbly when she’d been through so much before she even met me.”

  What? I hadn’t known my mom had gone through anything before she met my dad. On the off occasion I allowed myself to really think about her, I’d not given it more thought beyond acknowledging that she’d had a life before she met him. Everyone did. I’d never thought there would be anything sinister in it, though.

  “I don’t know how much you remember about your mom, but I imagine it’s not much. The thing is, Layton, by now you’ve already met someone who is just like your mother. You might recognize it on a subconscious level more than a conscious one, but Marissa—she is exactly like your mom.”

  I sat back in my chair, just staring at the screen, though ‘collapsed’ might have been a better word for it. Marissa was just like my mom? That would sure explain a few things. Like why I had taken to her so fast, and why I felt so comfortable around her—even though it annoyed me endlessly when others did the same stuff she did.

  My father, unaware that he’d just blown me away, continued without interruption. “She looks nothing like your mother, of course. But their personalities are very similar.”

  He sighed heavily before throwing another curveball my way. “And so are their pasts. Marissa has a dark and battered past, son. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you by now, son. But I feel like I should still implore you to do the right thing.”

  My eyebrows jumped to my hair line. Dark and battered pasts? What the fuck? I was so engrossed, I didn’t realize at first that I was gripping the sides of my seat as hard as I could. So hard it was bending.

  “You need to go talk to Marissa’s ex-boyfriend. He’s also the father of her child. Do the right thing and go talk to him son. You know him. I can’t think of a better person for this job than you.”

  I knew him? What the actual fuck? I knew no one from Texas, which was where Marissa was from. My dad used to have a branch there, but further than that it hadn’t exactly been my thing.

  Next, I nearly toppled off my chair when I heard who the son of a bitch was. “His name is Brice Peterson. The last I heard, he was in New York now.”

  Brice fucking Peterson. Holy shit, that name was a blast from the past. He used to be my best friend in grade school, then all the way through high school, but we grew apart after that. If what my father was saying about him was true and Brice was the kind of guy responsible for what my father referred to as Marissa’s ‘dark and battered past,’ it was no wonder we’d grown apart.

  My father had dropped yet another bomb on me, but as I was becoming accustomed to with these videos, he still didn’t stop talking. “You need to go talk to Brice, son. It’s the right thing to do, trust me. Forgiveness and understanding will help you in both your personal and professional lives.”

  And there was Mr. Cryptic again. Forgiveness and understanding for what? Talk to him about what?

  I was pissed as hell that Brice would have done anything like what Dad was insinuating, and now he wanted me to understand and forgive the guy? Fuck that. It was a fucking joke.

  My blood pounded in my ears and rage was furling and unfurling in my stomach. Yet, I also felt like I was stuck in some hazy maze. I was totally in shock. Not only was Brice—my Brice—Annie’s biological father, but he was responsible for something dark and battered in Marissa’s past?

  Those things she told me she was still working through when she pushed me away were because of Brice? Fuck. Just—fuck. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  Chapter 49

  Marissa

  Layton was supposed to arrive at our house at eleven in the morning. By ten forty-five, Annie was practically bouncing off
the walls from excitement. She’d changed her outfit three times, had two different backpacks packed—one for in case we went fishing and another in case she would need toys and puzzles for where ever we ended up going.

  I was ready to go, too. I’d paired jeans with comfortable knee high riding boots, my red coat and a camel jersey. Feeling relatively confident that I looked good, I left my hair loose to tumble down my shoulders and kept my makeup to a minimum.

  My purse was on the table in the entrance hall and I had stocked the fridge, just in case we decided it was too miserable to go out and stayed here instead. My eyes dropped to my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, only to note that Layton was now yet another minute later than he had been a minute ago.

  That made him twenty-two minutes late in total. In all the time I’d known Layton, I’d known him to be very many things. Late was not one of them.

  Annie stared at the front door as though she was willing the bell to ring. We sat at our dining room table, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

  “Mommy, where is Layton?” Annie asked every couple of minutes.

  Every time, I gave her the same answer. “I’m not sure, sweetie. He’s probably just running a few minutes late.”

  Annie became more subdued as the minutes passed. She stopped bouncing and pulled a coloring book out of her backpack, paging to a picture of a unicorn she stared at more than she colored it in. At first, I remained positive that he would be here any minute.

  The disappointment coming off Annie was palpable. It hit in waves and sat in the fresh tears welling in her eyes. It was the most disappointed I’d ever seen her, or certainly in the top ten.

  The more dejected she got, the more pissed off I got. Checking my phone for what must have been around the twentieth time, I saw there were still no messages from him. Not a single one.

  Tapping out yet another message to him, I wrote: If you’re not coming, just tell me. Need to prepare Annie—M.

  I tossed my phone on the table and glowered at it, but it didn’t help. It still didn’t light up. Where the hell was he?

  Eventually, Annie got up from the table and pushed her coloring book away from her. “I don’t think he’s going to come, Mommy. I’m going to go carry on with my puzzle.”

  With her head hung forward, her shoulders slumped and her eyes red-rimmed, I could see she was holding back tears that were threatening to spill. I reached out and tugged her to me, enveloping her in a giant hug. “I’m so sorry baby, I don’t know what could have happened.”

  “Do you think he’s okay?” She asked the question in a small voice that was on the edge of cracking.

  I’d asked myself the same question a few times today already, and the truth was—I didn’t know. None of my messages were answered and neither were my phone calls. I had no one else to call to ask if they’d heard anything from him.

  The only thing I could do was check in with his assistant, pretending I was trying to get hold of him for something work related that was urgent. She had replied an hour ago saying she hadn’t heard anything from him, but assured me she would have known if something was wrong.

  In light of her reply, I came to the conclusion that nothing life threatening had happened to him.

  Yet.

  When I got hold of him after seeing Annie in this state, well, all bets were off. “He’s fine, sweetie. He’s probably just working. You know how Mommy gets when I start designing a dress. I lose track of time.”

  Annie nodded and went off to build her puzzle, but I could see her glancing at the door every so often. She was still waiting for Layton. I sat at the dining room table scrolling through my phone and hoping deep down inside that he would show up.

  The anger building inside me simmered, and two hours after he was supposed to have arrived at our house, it boiled over. Screw him. Screw him and every horse he rode in on.

  I didn’t ask him to spend time with us today. I hadn’t asked him to meet Annie or to take her fishing. I asked him to dinner at our house, yes, but he didn’t have to agree. He offered to take us out today after saying we should all spend more time together.

  It was okay for him to mess with me and stand me up for a date. It would have sucked, yes, but I would have dealt with it. He wasn’t the first man to let me down and I had no doubt he would be the last.

  Annie, however, was a different story. She didn’t deserve this. She’d been so looking forward to spending the day with him. Especially after the party fiasco yesterday. In all fairness, Layton didn’t know about that, but he also hadn’t even let me know he wasn’t going to be showing up today.

  What kind of animal did that to a child? All he had to do was to send me a message to say he couldn’t make it. A freaking carrier pigeon would have been better than nothing. And yet, nothing was exactly what he had done.

  With rage roiling around in my tummy, I grabbed my keys off the dining room table and shouldered my purse. “Annie, how about we go visit Aunty Dee for a little while? She said she wanted to spend time with you today.”

  Annie brightened a tiny bit, nodding as she grabbed the backpack she had packed for inside activities. As I locked up and we made our way to the car, I sent Denise a quick text. She replied while we were getting strapped into the car.

  It was fine with her if Annie came to stay for a few hours. Thanking God for a friend like her, I backed out of the driveway.

  Denise was waiting for us when we got to her apartment. She knew better than anyone how important it was to me that Layton showed up for Annie.

  After ushering us in, she got Annie settled at a play table she had set up for her. With Annie immersed in a game with her ponies, Denise pulled me aside and whispered furiously. “What happened? Where the hell is Layton?”

  “He never showed up,” I whispered back. “The asshole completely flaked on us. Can she stay here for a little bit? I need to find him to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “Annie,” Denise said out loud, waiting until her green eyes met Annie’s blue ones before she continued. “I was going to have a home-spa day today. Would you like to hang out with me? We can do mani-pedi’s and facials.”

  Annie nodded, a small smile spreading on her crestfallen face. “Sure, Aunty Dee.”

  Under normal circumstances, I knew she would have been thrilled at the thought of a home-spa day. We did them often and she always loved them, but she had been counting on spending the day with Layton. I could see she was still disappointed.

  I left Denise’s and drove straight to Layton’s. On the way to his apartment, I rehearsed a hundred different things I wanted to scream at him.

  Most of them were about disappointing my baby, but there were one or two things about common courtesy in there as well. For me. Because really, how hard was it to send a single text?

  After banging on his door for a good five minutes, I was disappointed once more. He wasn’t there. I double checked with his doorman, who confirmed he wasn’t in.

  Standing in his parking lot, I had the sudden urge to bang myself over the head repeatedly. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe I had been so damn stupid. I had let him in, and he hurt my little girl. That was not okay. And he wasn’t even home to hear it.

  Chapter 50

  Layton

  “Welcome to New York, sir. We hope you’ll be traveling with us again soon.” A perky flight attendant said with a winning smile. Her name tag told me her name was Cindy.

  I hadn’t seen her during the flight, but that hardly meant anything. I spent the entire time rehearsing what I would say to Brice when I finally saw him, alternating between all-consuming rage and total confusion.

  “Thank you, Cindy,” I told her absently, disembarking the plane in a city I hadn’t been to for a long time. I couldn’t believe I was returning here for Brice, of all people.

  After my father’s video, shock kept me immobile for a couple of hours. I paced up and down, may have turned over a few tables, and finally, decided to take Dad’s a
dvice. For once.

  If Marissa had a dark and battered past because of Brice, I needed to talk to him. To do the right thing, so to speak. I should have spoken to Marissa, but by the time I realized I’d long since missed our date, I didn’t know what to say to her.

  I was worried about speaking to her, afraid she would deter me from the mission I’d been catapulted into. I also knew she would be pissed as hell about me missing our day together without having let her know I wasn’t going to make it.

  I didn’t even know how I was going to explain my sudden pilgrimage to see her ex when she hadn’t even told me about him yet. When I was trying to make my decision on whether or not to come to New York, I decided to cross that bridge when I got to it.

  Having looked up my old friend Brice before I left home, I knew where to find him. I would talk to him first and then figure out what to say to Marissa.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to speak to her at all. I owed her an explanation, but as I walked through the crowded terminal in New York, she refused to take my calls.

  Dodging people and families, I finally passed through security. No less than five calls to Marissa went unanswered. She had to be pissed as all hell and I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t blame her.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, jabbing the red button on my phone’s screen and shoving it back into my pocket.

  The city hit me like a punch to the face when I pushed my way out of the doors of the airport. It was loud here, horns honking and people yelling at each other outside the terminal. I could see the street not far away and the planes coming in for landing.