It might get him arrested.
As Tyler trudged down the stairs to the subway, he couldn’t help but flash back to the sight of Ms. Marietta in all her glory. The sight sent shivers down his spine. He blinked fast to bring the present back into focus. It wouldn’t do him much good to go tumbling down the stairs and end up in the hospital. The way his luck ran, he’d get a concussion and never remember his encounter with Ms. Marietta, or worse, he’d wake up and think they were lovers, or married. Some crazy shit like that would really set his life right.
He waited the requisite thirty seconds for the subway to arrive and hopped on in a rush of people. Damn, those doors closed fast. Well, he supposed, New York did everything fast. Why would their subway system be any different? Used to moving with the car, he didn’t bother to hold on to the railing as the train lurched into motion, but he found he had to grab on to something solid as images continued to dance through his head. He pictured her undressing for him. Pictured her hands running along his body. Wondered if she would have cold fingers or hot. Maybe a bit of both—to match her personality.
Tyler sighed and forced his eyes open. Exhaustion weighed him down after too many hours in the office for too many days in a row. Almost three weeks working seven days. And sleeping on the train would make him slip into an erotic haze starring his new obsession. He had to at least wait until he got home to do that. A bit of food wouldn’t hurt either. He shifted his briefcase, waiting for his transfer stop to take him farther uptown. Twenty minutes later, he walked into his apartment building, and his phone rang.
He pulled it out of his briefcase as he pushed the elevator button for the twenty-third floor.
“I’m getting married.”
Mandy’s voice startled him. He looked at his watch. It was almost two a.m. in Paris.
“Say something, would you?”
“Oh…uh, congratulations,” he stammered. Yeah, that sounded real enthusiastic. He tried again before she could give him a ration of shit. “That’s great news.”
“Well, duh. I mean, maybe. Ugh. It’s still kind of complicated. I do really think I love him, Ty. It’s just…he’s so young.” Now his sister sounded unsure of herself, doubtful of the entire situation. He would need to tread carefully here.
“But you said it yourself. He’s an adult. A responsible man.”
“He’d already bought the ring. He asked me before I told him I was pregnant.”
That made him feel better. At least he knew the other man wanted to be with his sister, instead of just feeling obligated. But could a relationship like that last? He didn’t think he was qualified to answer such a question, considering the unorthodox relationship he’d started.
“Good, that’s good.” He unlocked his apartment door and went inside. He tossed his briefcase on the high counter in the kitchen and went to the fridge. He rooted around for takeout that hadn’t turned green and pushed the door closed with his hip when he found some. “So…when should I expect a call from Mom about all this?”
“I’ll call you and let you know before I tell her.”
Good, because his mother would call him as soon as she hung up with Mandy and ask how long he’d known.
“Could you make it sooner rather than later?” he asked. The longer he knew without telling, the worse the fallout would be.
“I’ll try to work up the nerve to call her this weekend, but I don’t know. Any way I could talk you into telling her for me?”
“Not a chance.” He tossed the Chinese food into a bowl and put it in the microwave. No way would he get in the middle of that one. His mom would be happy that Mandy was happy, but it would take her a while to get over the shock.
“Yeah, didn’t think so. Oh, well. It’s late. I have things to do in the morning. I need to get my prego ass to bed.”
He stuffed a forkful of chow mein noodles into his mouth. Spices assaulted his taste buds as he chewed and swallowed. “Okay, sis. Gimme that heads-up before you call Mom, huh?”
“Yeah. I will. Hey, is everything okay with you? You sound distracted. Same as yesterday.”
How could she tell? He should have known she would pick up on it. It was no use trying to deny his inattentiveness. She knew him too well.
“Just a nasty case at work coming up. It’s kind of screwing with my head. I’ve got a lot riding on this one, you know? Not sure how things are going to shake out. We’ll just have to wait and see. Just work stuff, nothing to worry about.”
He hoped he sounded convincing or that she was too wrapped up in her own joy to press too hard. If she kept needling him about it, he’d cave and tell her at least some of the events from the past few days. Talking about the details of his sex life with his sister wasn’t something he’d relish, but it might be kind of nice to get her perspective on the issue. Not tonight, though. Or she might talk him into staying home this weekend. And he wasn’t ready to give up Ms. Marietta just yet.
“Okay. Well, I know you can’t tell me much more than that, confidentiality-wise and all that. But if you want to talk about it, you know I’m here.”
That was one of the reasons he loved her so much. Younger or not, she always tried to look out for him. “I know. I’m good. Go get some sleep. And tell the fiancé I said hello and look forward to meeting him.”
“Will do. G’night.”
“Night, sweetie.” He closed his phone and set it on the counter next to him. He shifted on the cushioned stool, wondering if he would have to give his place up soon. He grabbed his quickly cooling dinner and relocated to the sofa. A little mindless television would go a long way tonight. Because tomorrow held the promise to be one hell of a day.
Chapter Nine
Layla lay on the soft comforter of her hotel room bed, unable to keep her eyes closed. She still felt too wired. Too on edge. No way would there be any sleep in her near future. Damn it. Her encounter with Mr. Times Square should have settled her nerves, should have lessened the intensity of her desire. But it had only whetted her appetite.
Maybe this whole thing was a giant fuck-all mistake. Like all the other ones. How could she have been so stupid? She slammed her head against her pillow in a puff of air. She needed Eddie to come up here and talk some sense into her. Maybe just climb into bed with her. A bit of comfort might do her some good. Help curb her need for contact in a nice, safe, not-harmful-to-anyone-else way. She was done letting her reckless choices ruin things.
First her parents, then Steven, and then married scumbag Jason and his poor wife, and a string of other smaller screwups in between and since.
She wouldn’t let it happen again. She’d just have to keep herself in line. No more excuses. She picked up the phone and called the bellhop desk.
“Is Eduardo available?” She didn’t bother to identify herself. Mannie knew her voice.
“Yeah, sweetie. I’ll put him on.”
“Could you just send him up? I wouldn’t turn up my nose at a bottle of tequila either.”
“Oh, boy,” Mannie said, and hung up. They were used to helping her clean up her messes after six years of her coming back to the city at least once every twelve months for work. After all, they’d been there when she came running back to the hotel after Jason’s wife caught them in bed together. But she hated feeling like she commuted here from California, or like she was trying to live in both places at once. It just added to her overall unsettled feeling. The one her life had pretty much always had.
A click at the door a moment later told her Eduardo had fought with the elevators to get up there so fast. Their computerized system was ridiculous, but at eleven p.m., even with a conference in town, traffic in the elevator bank must not have been too bad. She sat up in bed and clicked on the bedside table light. The curtains were firmly closed, and they would remain that way until she figured out what the hell to do next. Step things up or cut him off. She still had no idea.
He plopped down on the bed next to her, a tray in his hand. It held two glasses and a bottle of the bar’s
tequila.
“Just add it to my room,” she said, smiling.
“Don’t I always?”
Eddie always treated her with kindness, and not just because of her mother’s position as CFO for the hotel. They all acted like she was family, a guest in their homes. The hotel acted as her haven in the City of Shit. Her mother’s position and controlling interest in the parent company had some perks, at least. As long as the woman never set foot inside her sanctuary at the same time, Layla would keep coming back and staying with her hotel family whenever a case pulled her to New York.
She nodded and grabbed the glass he handed her. She had to stop herself from swilling its entire contents, knowing it would burn like hell. Instead, she took a few small sips and waited for the warmth to glide down her throat and settle in her tummy. Eddie didn’t say anything as he took a sip from his glass. He waited for her to start explaining or screaming and crying. She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say.
“Well, that’s a first. I’m going to have to meet this guy. You ain’t never been speechless. Ever.”
“I know,” she groaned. “That’s where I’m at right now. Fucked sideways.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she stuck out her tongue. “Not in a good way.”
“What happened?”
She told him about their second exchange early that morning and their third this evening.
“You ran away?” She heard the disbelief in his voice, saw it in the way his eyes widened. She always ran into the crazy situations without thinking, not away from them. But she was trying to change that, damn it. She’d been on her best behavior, working and taking care of Aunt Marge and working some more. She hadn’t even attempted a relationship in three years. Her last date had been over a year ago.
She just nodded. How could she explain? She didn’t even know for sure that she understood why she’d panicked.
“And then you wrote messages back and forth while you played with yourselves?”
He made it sound so dirty. It hadn’t been dirty. It’d been…amazing.
“That’s kind of sweet, actually,” he continued.
“No. There’s nothing sweet about it. It’s just about getting some satisfaction in my life.” Even though she’d been letting herself think of it as more, she wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. “And staying away from my married boss.”
“Why didn’t you just go pick up a guy in a bar, girl?”
“Eh, that doesn’t hold any appeal for me. It never did. You know that. I only seem to be able to sleep with people I actually give a shit about, even when they’re the really, really wrong people for the job.” She took another sip that burned all the way down. Then she took another. She wanted the burn. Needed something to remind herself she was here, now. Alive. “Fast cars, fast life, fun, and casual sex usually go together, I know. But I’m just not wired that way. It’s gotta be someone special, you know? Not some random guy I picked up in a seedy bar. Or even a nice one, for that matter. Maybe that’s why I’m having such an issue with this. He’s kind of just a random guy, you know? He asked me my name tonight.”
“And?”
“And I just shook my head. No way. I’m way too embarrassed. It’s bad enough he knows where I live—at least where I’m staying while I’m here. No. We need to leave names out of the equation. He asked me if I was married too. What business did he have playing voyeur with what he thought could be a married woman?” The irony of her indignation was not lost on her. Could she really be pissed at him for fooling around with a potentially married woman, when she’d been sleeping with a married man? Though Jason had told her outright that he didn’t have anyone. Mr. TS hadn’t had a clue when he’d first peeked in her window like some crazy person. “What if he’s unbalanced? What if I’m unbalanced? This is crazy, right?”
“Well, yeah. But sometimes crazy’s not such a bad thing, you know?” Eduardo put the tray on the bedside table. He reached an arm around her, snuggled beside her on the bed. “What if he turns out to be a nice guy?”
The thought made her stomach bottom out. No. She couldn’t let herself think about it like that. If he was a nice guy, he might be even more tempting.
“No. Nice guys don’t have torrid voyeuristic masturbation affairs.” Saying the words out loud made her feel dirty. Like it was wrong. Damn the guilt her mother had instilled in her almost from birth. She’d never quite be able to get away from it, would she?
She held out her glass for more liquor. Eduardo shook his head.
“C’mon. Talk to me about this first. Before you’re incoherent. What do you wanna do about it?”
She had no idea. Layla flopped back against the pillows propped up behind her and tried to think hard about the question before letting loose a rapid-fire response in a flippant tone. The answer mattered. She needed to figure out what she wanted, or she wouldn’t get anywhere.
“Honestly, Eddie, I don’t know. You know what I thought? ’Cause I have no freaking clue what was going through my head that first day I opened my eyes and caught him staring at me. I just reacted. Like I always do. Thoughts came later. Much, much later.” Along with the guilt. But she left that part unsaid, not that Eddie wouldn’t hear it in her voice.
“Okay. So. It’s time for you to think. And not to run away. Unless you decide that’s what you want. I mean, okay, kind of crazy what you two are doing, but that doesn’t make it wrong. And you have no reason to feel like it is. It’s two consenting adults engaging in a little recreational activity. Just go with it. See where it leads you.” He pulled her close.
She let his body heat sneak into hers, warming her from the outside in, as the alcohol warmed her from the inside out. He was right, as usual. She gave him her best effort at a smile. By the twinkle in his eye, she knew the effort failed, but he seemed inclined to let it pass.
“He asked me if I’d be here this weekend, and I told him yes. So I guess that means he’ll be here today or tomorrow. I’m scared. Really, really scared.” God, she hated how lost her voice sounded. Hated how it wavered as she spoke. It had been three years since Jason. She was over it. She had to be over it. She would not allow him to ruin the rest of her life with his stupidity and betrayal. She didn’t have anything to be afraid of. But even as she thought the words, she knew they were utter bullshit. She had everything to be afraid of.
What if she ruined this guy’s life like she’d almost done to Steven, when his family wanted him to choose between her and them? She’d made the decision and left before he could stop her. She wasn’t worth anyone giving up their family for.
What if she ruined her own life this time? Then everyone would see her for the fuckup she was. They’d see she was wild, crazy. Unable to control herself. Just like her parents had said.
“I know, sweetheart. But isn’t that what makes it fun?” He ignored the vulnerability in her voice, making his light and teasing.
Eddie would do anything for her, including enabling her bad habits and not judging her one bit for them. But if she wanted to try to let loose a little, just enough to grab on to life and live, she had to stand on her own two feet. Eddie couldn’t hold her hand or make the decisions for her, but he could pick up the pieces left behind when she blew everything to smithereens. She lay her head on his shoulder, and he stroked his fingers over her hair. She let herself indulge in the comfort for a while. Let Eddie tell her about his love life. All the while, her mind whirred.
Just how far would she let things go with Mr. TS before she freaked out again and closed the curtains for good?
Chapter Ten
On the ride in to the office on Saturday morning, Tyler tried to keep his mind on the case; he really did. But thoughts of Ms. Marietta kept interrupting. As they had all night. He’d dreamed of her running across the street and taking that short elevator ride up to the eighteenth floor. Of her coming into his office to seduce him properly, closing and locking the door behind her. He’d pictured the sound of her laugh. The cries of pleas
ure as she rode him on his desk. Fully clothed in her pencil skirt, bright red shirt, thigh-high stockings, heels, and those sexy little glasses. Everything except underwear. All for him.
He smacked himself in the head. Get a grip. He needed to focus. He pulled out some research he’d done on evidentiary circumstance. How would the prosecutor weave the case? Of course they would focus on the fact that Guy Paulson was a homeless man. Paint him as desperate to the jury. Try to show that his savant syndrome led him to the murder. That would be easy enough to squelch. He had a PhD, for Christ’s sake. He’d just fallen out of touch with reality. Lost his job, unable to get another one, and then his wife left.
The man was a genius. But not one of those geniuses who couldn’t relate to normal people. Not one who would alienate the jury when they put him on the stand. Paulson might be their best asset. If the jury could just see the side of him that Tyler had glimpsed during the spider incident, they would know he was incapable of hurting someone. Let alone brutally stabbing a young woman four times in the chest. Tyler perused the police report yet again. No alibi. No one else to account for Paulson’s location the night of the murder, or why he hadn’t heard her being killed right outside his tent.
He needed to spread things out in his office. Piece together a time line for March 3. He had the one from the cops, but it didn’t feel thorough enough. They’d had a suspect in a big case, feeling pressure straight from the mayor and all the way down the line. Not to mention the public scrutiny they’d been under. No wonder the case seemed to have holes. He could not allow Paulson to suffer for someone else’s crime. And he certainly wouldn’t let the man burn because of shoddy police work.
It wasn’t his first case at the firm; he’d taken point on four different ones in the last eighteen months. He hoped this one would be one of his last. It should be big enough and come with enough of a raise at the end of it to cut the time he had to stay there in half. So he could get out of civil law and bring a big name to the Innocence Project. He’d have to work his ass off for the rest of the case, though, putting in whatever hours necessary. Of course, now he had extra incentive to be in his office. Not that she encouraged his work ethic.
An Affair Across Times Square Page 6