Friendly Fire

by Cari Z.

  “Bummer.”

  “Yeah,” Lee agreed. “It’s like Mom can forgive, but she never forgets, you know? And I think she doesn’t like the idea of Dad dating anyone, but especially not another person with a ‘criminal history.’” Lee added the air quotes with heavy sarcasm. “She never liked Uncle Oliver.”

  “Huh.” There was a lot to parse there, not the least of which being that Lee thought Elliot and her father were dating, but Lennox chose that moment to return to the car. His movements were a little abrupt, his jaw tight, but he sounded fine when he said, “It’s cleared up. Are you ready to do some boxing, sweetheart?”

  “Totally ready,” she said, flopping back and rooting around for the seat belt.

  “Good. Me too.”

  The gym had more people in it on a Friday night, but Elliot carved off a section of the stands and settled in like he owned the place and wasn’t intimidated by the vigorous activity. Or turned on. At all.

  Honestly, he had never been into muscle-heavy men. His longest relationship had been with someone a lot like himself: slim and fit, but not built. No rippling abs or bulging biceps or any other cliché descriptions he could think of for body parts that weren’t the penis. Vanessa had asked him once, back when they’d still seen each other every other day, if he didn’t find being with Mischa a bit boring. “You’re so similar,” she’d said over her third glass of Chardonnay. “How does he ever challenge you? How does he make you better?”

  Back then he’d been offended, but in retrospect, Mischa clearly hadn’t made Elliot better. They’d enabled each other’s worst traits while keeping up a pretty public façade, and it had almost been a relief for them to break apart when the fall came. He’d loved Mischa. He wouldn’t have stayed otherwise. But Elliot hadn’t really liked Mischa a lot of the time, and the fact that they hadn’t exchanged half a dozen emails since the trial made Elliot very aware of his ambiguous affection. When he wanted something, he went after it like a shark scenting blood, unrelenting even when it meant he made bad decisions.

  He had that urge with Lennox. Lennox had struck Elliot like a fist between the eyes from the very first moment. He’d liked looking at him immediately, liked him more. And half an hour of watching him hold pads for Lee to punch, while gratifying, was nothing compared to how hard it was to glance away once someone his own size pulled him into the central ring.

  Lennox wasn’t the best boxer there. His form wasn’t as clean as the man he was fighting, a guy with at least a decade on him, and his defense was a little slipshod. His timing when he threw a punch was beautiful, though, hitting with better power and speed than his opponent, if less frequency. He was hard to predict from a spectator’s perspective, and Elliot could only imagine how it felt to be in the ring with him, trying to strike without getting tagged back twice as hard.

  “Tito’s an old Golden Gloves champion,” Lee said as she appeared out of nowhere, slumping down next to Elliot on the stands. She was freshly showered and had either stolen or been gifted with one of her father’s Army Rangers sweatshirts. It hung down past her hips and hands, but she seemed comfortable in it. “Dad’s one of the only people close to his age who can give him a workout.”

  “He seems like he’s doing pretty good.”

  Lee stared at her father intently. “He says I could be better than he is.”

  “I’m sure you can, if you work hard enough at it.”

  “That’s such a parentish thing to say,” Lee huffed.

  “No, it’s a very me thing to say,” Elliot replied. “Hard work always wins out over luck or talent in the long run. I’m only in the position I’m in today because I kept working at it, not because I was fabulously talented or had a lucky charm. That’s how most of the people I know became successful, your Aunt Serena included. She’d make a good CEO,” he added.

  “What does it take to be a CEO?”

  “Well, a company starts from an idea. And a CEO is the person who has the vision to understand that idea, and the means to enact it. A CEO makes a plan and gives the orders, and the employees follow his or her orders to the best of their ability. Kind of like a parent with their kids.”

  “Huh.” Lee glanced back at the ring. “In my family, I think it’s Mom who’s the CEO, not Dad.”

  “You’re probably right about that.” Elliot winced as Lennox took an uppercut to his gut that sent him falling back against the ropes. The grizzled guy who owned the place dinged a little bell, and the other fighter took out his mouth guard and went over to make sure Lennox was okay. Lennox chuckled and shrugged the concern off, straightening up with a wince. His body was bright with exertion, his eyes brilliant with energy despite the beating he’d taken at the end.

  “Ouch, Dad,” Lee said after Lennox had left the ring and joined them. “Ouch.”

  “I wasn’t that bad,” he protested.

  “Whatever, that was a total TKO.” She couldn’t keep her grin under wraps, though. “I guess you did pretty good. Good enough to take me to dinner.”

  Lennox rolled his eyes as he began to raise one gloved hand to his mouth. Elliot stopped him. “I’ll help you,” he said, starting to untie the laces.

  “Thanks.” Lennox was a little breathless, but seemed pleased. Elliot tried not to enjoy the scent of fresh sweat too much as Lennox turned to his daughter. “Helpful people get taken to dinner. Hecklers get to eat leftover chili.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Lee said confidently. “You won’t do that to your favorite daughter.”

  “You’re my only daughter.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not your favorite too. We can go to a burger place,” she added with an air of compromise. “Not sushi, I promise.”

  Elliot tugged the glove off, then found one of his hands captured by Lennox’s. “Sound good to you?” Lennox asked.

  Elliot stared at their mingled fingers for a moment, totally bemused, before he remembered to answer. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “Great.” Lennox squeezed his hand, then let go and took his glove back. “I’ll clean up fast.”

  They ate at a greasy-spoon diner three blocks from the gym. Elliot was happy to let Lee direct the conversation, still distracted by his own worries. He couldn’t check out completely, of course. Not when Lee kept asking questions that Lennox couldn’t field by himself.

  “What’s your favorite Harry Potter spell?” she asked Elliot around a mouthful of burger. Lennox unfolded his napkin and held it up in front of her face until she batted it down and stared at him as she dramatically chewed and swallowed. “I bet it’s Felix Felicis,” she said once she could talk again. “Working hard is good, but having perfect luck would be even better!”

  “That’s a good one,” Elliot agreed. “Although if we’re going with potions, I’d want to have a supply of Polyjuice.”

  “Which is . . . what?” Lennox asked.

  “Oh, Dad, it’s so cool,” Lee interjected, clearly forgetting to mock his ignorance in her haste to explain. “It lets you look like other people! It’s perfect for sneaking into places you aren’t supposed to be, and fooling people into thinking you’re someone else. I’d want to be Aunt Serena. But just for a little while.”

  “I’d like to be her for a little while too,” Elliot said with a chuckle. “But no one would ever believe I was the real thing. I’d fall right off those heels.” He glanced over at Lennox, expecting him to be laughing as well.

  Instead he looked thoughtful. “Actually . . . That might not be a bad plan.”

  Had he been hit too hard in the head during his boxing match? “Polyjuice Potion?”

  Lennox half smiled. “Close.”

  Partial transcription of most recent appointment with West, Lennox, Staff Sergeant US Army Rangers (R), January 28, 3:29 p.m.:

  JS: I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today, Lennox.

  LW: Thank God. Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, Doc, but this feels like pulling teeth.

  JS: I understand. It
means a lot that you keep trying, regardless.

  LW: I told my family I’d keep it up. I’m not going to break that promise.

  JS: When will you be seeing them next?

  LW: Tonight, actually. Gaby’s having a barbecue at her place. Good weather for it.

  JS: That sounds like fun. Will you be taking anyone with you?

  LW: (Patient laughs.) Even if I were dating, I don’t think a meal at my ex-wife’s house would be the event to break them in on, huh? Besides, it’s not like I’ve got a lot to offer someone.

  JS: You never know what people are going to be looking for, Lennox. Keep an open mind. You might be surprised.

  The hardest part about the whole plan, Lennox felt, was that he had to wear a suit. Not just a suit, a tux, and one that fit. Elliot had a tailor―of course he did―and that woman could work miracles. In less than twenty-four hours she’d modified a tuxedo to fit Lennox like it had been made for him, and tweaked Elliot’s own, nearly identical outfit enough to make room for his new accessories without being obvious.

  Betty did the final fitting for both of them in Elliot’s office. They were the only three people left in the building. Serena had darted in and out between excursions with Lee, but apart from that, the place had been silent but for Betty’s pleasant humming. She had platinum-blonde hair, bright-red lips, and worked in a gown that could have come out of one of Gaby’s magazines. She was also resolutely cheerful in the face of Lennox’s discomfort, which he had to give her props for.

  Lennox didn’t even get to tie his own tie. “At least tell me—”

  “Say nothing, Betty,” Elliot said blithely, texting one-handed as he sipped from a paper cup of coffee. He’d barely glanced up from his phone since he’d woken up that morning. “Lennox doesn’t understand the concept of gift-giving. He’ll only have a heart attack if you let him think about how much his tuxedo costs.”

  “If you think a tuxedo is the most expensive thing I’ve ever worn, you’ve got another thing coming,” Lennox retorted.

  “Yeah, but every technological wonder you sported while you were a Ranger belonged to the Army. Whereas this,” Elliot waved at the midnight-black ensemble that Betty was making the final adjustments to, “belongs solely to you. And it looks fantastic. Betty, you’re a genius.”

  “Oh, your friend is an easy man to dress,” Betty said with a smile, finally standing back and giving the shawl collar one last tweak. “The hardest part was making sure it fit your shoulders without compromising your mobility,” she added to Lennox. “It wasn’t easy to match your silhouettes, but I think we managed, right?”

  It was surprisingly comfortable. Better than his dress uniform, for certain, and that was the only other piece of formalwear Lennox had on hand. He rolled his shoulders, then lifted his arms experimentally.

  “Do a jumping jack next.” Elliot grinned. “Or, ooh, push-ups! Wouldn’t you like to see Lennox do some push-ups, Betty?”

  “I’d rather see his shirt stay tucked in,” Betty said, walking in a slow circle around Lennox. The hairs on his neck prickled as she closed in behind him, but he let her work in his blind spot. Nerves, he told himself. He’d get over them once the plan got underway. He always did.

  Elliot pouted a little. “You’re no fun at all.”

  Betty glanced over at Elliot. “Aw, don’t be fussy because you have to wait awhile to unwrap him.” Then she turned her attention back to Lennox, who was doing his best not to blush. “Do you have cuff links?”

  “In the pocket of my jacket.”

  “Wonderful.” She smoothed the fabric over his shoulders one last time. “You look very handsome. If you ever want to consider modeling for me, I’d be happy to pay you for your time and would give you a bespoke suit to take home at the end of it.”

  Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “Are you coming on to my date? I can’t quite tell.”

  “You’re just jealous she didn’t ask you to be her model,” Lennox teased.

  “Maybe,” Elliot allowed, glancing down at his phone again. “But she’s got a point. If anyone could make her suits fly off the rack, it’s you.”

  “Yeah, right.” It was flattering to be asked, but Lennox would model suits when pigs could fly. “What are you looking at?”

  “Special election results.” Elliot smiled tightly. “None yet, but I’ll keep checking in. Hopefully the news will break fast and we can save her a scandal when we call things in.”

  “Can I see?”

  Elliot shrugged and handed the phone over. “Not much to see, but sure.” Betty closed in on him, which gave Lennox the opening he needed to turn away, pull the tiny chip out of his pocket, open up the back of Elliot’s phone, and slip the chip in beside the battery.

  He looked over in time to see Betty put her hands on her hips and sigh as she turned a final circle around Elliot. “Remember to keep your phone in your overcoat once you’re in the public eye, all right? I already had to adjust things to compensate for the new accessories, and anything else will ruin the line.”

  “I hear and obey,” Elliot promised her, plucking the phone from Lennox’s hand. “God forbid I appear anything other than perfect in one of your creations. You’ll have people knocking your door down wanting your custom couture.”

  “Oh, I’m not hurting for business, but I like my clients to always be at their best.” Betty motioned them to stand closer together. “Pretty impressive,” she said after a moment. “Or it will be once you add the hat.” She sighed. “A fedora with a tuxedo, honestly.” She handed over a new hat, edged in the same fabric as the wide lapels. “This is the one time you could’ve gotten away with a top hat. It would have been so elegant!”

  Elliot tucked the fedora on top of his head and gave her a little bow. “But then it wouldn’t have been me. How will people recognize me without my trademark hat? Now,” he continued briskly before Betty could say anything else, “do you need a ride to the Meetup, or are you all set?”

  Betty picked up her tiny jeweled clutch in one hand and her much larger sewing kit in the other. “I’ll take my own car. Thank you for the offer, though.”

  “My pleasure.” Elliot gave her one last smile. “We’ll see you there soon.”

  “Don’t forget your cuff links,” Betty said before she swept out of the office in a wave of silky fuchsia fabric and orange-blossom perfume.

  “Is everyone you know a Charmed Life client?” Lennox asked once he heard the front door shut.

  “Only the best people,” Elliot replied. “Betty was one of the first, actually. She helped me with my image and branding. Don’t listen to her when she impugns the fedora either; it was all her idea. Something to set me apart, she said.” He took it off his head and twirled it in his hand, but his face was pensive. “I suppose it does that. Lennox―”

  “Don’t overthink it,” Lennox advised as he headed over to his jacket. He wouldn’t be able to wear the beat-up leather tonight, but it was warm enough for February that he probably wouldn’t miss it. He groped through the left-hand pocket until his fingers closed on cool metal studs.

  “I just― Are you sure you’re all right with―”

  “It was my idea. I’m fine with it.” Lennox rejoined Elliot in the middle of the room and took the hat out of his hands before he bent the brim. He set it down on Elliot’s desk. “Better like this than the other way around,” he confessed.

  Elliot smiled again, but it was a small, uncertain thing. “That’s because you’re a bit of a freak, honestly. And a masochist.”

  Guilty as charged. “Yeah, but you love it.”

  “I might.”

  That part sounded entirely too serious for Lennox’s liking. He needed Elliot to be charming and confident, so that Lennox could focus on the task at hand. Everything was set up, almost all of the players in place. Now the plan just had to fall together how they both thought it would.

  “Here, help me with these.” Lennox pressed his cuff links into Elliot’s hand. Elliot took one look at them and bur
st out laughing.

  “These are Batman cuff links! Why in God’s name do you have Batman cuff links?” He peered a little closer. “Are these really silver?”

  “Sterling,” Lennox confirmed. “And they were a gift from Lee the birthday after she saw the first Batman movie with me.”

  “And you thought they fit the mood tonight?” Elliot sounded put out, but he was grinning. “Batman is a bit casual for the Meetup. I’ve got a dozen pairs you could have borrowed.”

  “But then I wouldn’t be me. Besides, I doubt anyone will get close enough to inspect my wrists,” Lennox said, and Elliot took the hit with a little nod. “And they’re tiny: no one will notice. These are better than the other pair I’ve got at home.”

  “Oh really?” Elliot still seemed amused, but dutifully pulled Lennox’s cuffs together with the help of the Batman logo. “What are the other ones like? Tiny pistols? Crossed daggers beneath a skull?”

  “The namaste symbol.” Elliot seemed blank. “Namaste. You know, the greeting? ‘I bow to you’? It’s kind of a swirly . . .” Lennox couldn’t explain it well enough, so he turned his hand over in Elliot’s grip and drew the symbol on Elliot’s palm with his index finger. “Like that.”

  Elliot stared at his palm like he could actually see the outline. “You got those other cuff links from your mother, didn’t you?”

  “Solid-gold hippie mysticism,” Lennox agreed. “She’s got the same symbol tattooed across her lower back.”

  “Of course she does.” Elliot closed his hand slowly. “I’d really like to meet her someday.”

  “You will,” Lennox said, and it felt as good as a promise. “You ready for the Meetup?”

  “Oh darling.” Elliot replaced his hat on his head, tilting it at a jaunty angle. “I’m always ready for a party.”

  It was a good thing Serena had reserved a parking place for them, because downtown Denver was packed with people. There were a huge number of events going on the night before the Super Bowl and the Executive Meetup was just one of the offerings, but their particular batch of attendees stood out in the crowd of jersey-wearing, pre-tailgate party tailgaters. They were better dressed, among other things.