by Claire Adams
I followed Ben back over to where Kevin and Noah were standing. “So, Daisy,” Ben said. “You think we should bring him down to the station? And don’t worry—if he tries to deny anything, both Kevin and I will happily testify that he was trying to break into your apartment, and he’ll probably be going away for at a couple years.”
“I’m thinking more like five,” Kevin said. “Especially if Judge Carter hears the case.”
“Kevin knows him,” Ben said to Noah. “Judge Carter. And while it’s true that judges try to be impartial, the judge is going to believe Kevin over you. Trust me. So what do you think, Daisy?”
He was talking loudly, almost in a theatrical voice, and I realized that he wanted to make Noah understand that whatever happened next was solely up to me.
“I’d like nothing more than to see an asshole like this locked up for a good long time,” Kevin said, playing right along. “A guy like you in Suffolk County Jail? You’ll get to know real fast how it feels to be the one getting preyed upon.”
Noah had started to cry, tears silently running down the sides of his face, a sniffle escaping him every now and then.
“I don’t think we’re going to do that,” I said. “I think it’d be better if the two of you took care of it.”
But instead of looking relieved, a look of horror exploded across Noah’s face. He thought that meant they were going to take him out back and kill him or something. He started to open his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
I walked over to him, stopped when I was about an arm’s length away. “Noah,” I said. “They’re not going to kill you. But if you ever come back here again, they will.”
There was a little alleyway between two buildings near the other end of the block, and they brought him down there. I stood there, not sure what I was waiting for, but it seemed as though a very short amount of time passed when they reappeared again, all three of them walking, Noah no longer being restrained. He was lurching a little, and I could see as they got closer that he was going to have quite the black eye tomorrow, but other than that, he didn’t seem too bad off.
“Noah has something he’d like to say to you,” Ben said, “and then I’m going to drive him to Dorchester, and he’s going to have to find his own way back to Mission Hill.”
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Noah said. “And you have my word that I’ll leave you alone from now on. This is the last that you’ll ever see of me.”
“Good,” I said. “I hope you mean that.”
“He means it,” Ben said. He nudged Noah toward his SUV. “All right, champ, why don’t you hop in. You can ride shotgun; Kev will sit in the back.” Ben turned to me. “You want me to walk you inside?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Thank you though. I . . . I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I got home and he’d been in my apartment.”
Ben smiled. “Just doing our job. Have a good night.”
I stood there on the sidewalk and didn’t go in until the SUV disappeared around the block. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders; I was pretty sure that I would never see Noah again. I went inside, tossing my purse on the table as I went over to sit on the couch.
It dawned on me then that Ian hadn’t told Ben and Kevin to stop watching out for me. So even though he was telling me that it was over between us and we couldn’t see each other anymore, he’d left them out there. Didn’t that mean he did in fact still have feelings for me? Or was that just wishful thinking?
I wanted to call him. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t let myself do that.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ian
Lynn was all business-like, all two hundred pounds of her in a form-fitting maroon-colored knee-length skirt and matching jacket, which was way too hot for this sort of weather, even with the air conditioning on. Midway through the day, she removed the jacket, revealing pasty white arms, the flesh jiggling tremulously whenever she moved to answer the phone or reach for a pen.
I missed Daisy.
But the fastest way to get over that, I knew, was to not think about her, and find somewhere else to put my dick, pronto. Except I didn’t think I could get it hard even if I wanted to, and though it was strange for me to not want, I just didn’t. It wasn’t a matter of waiting until the right thing came along to turn me on; it was like when Daisy left, she took my libido with her.
At least I knew that Noah wasn’t going to be giving her a hard time anymore. Ben and Kevin had seen to that.
I was just sitting there, staring off into space, jerked out of my reverie by Lynn, clearing her throat from the doorway.
“Earth to Ian,” she said.
“Huh?”
“Call for you,” she said. “Line two.”
I picked it up. “This is Ian,” I said.
“Ian.” It was Annie. I felt my balls shrink even more. “Ian, why haven’t you been answering your phone? Why is it the only time I can get in touch with you is when I call through to your office?”
“I didn’t realize you’d been calling,” I said, patting my pockets, not feeling my phone. “I don’t even know where my phone is.”
“That’s kind of irresponsible of you, don’t you think?”
I sighed. “What do you want, Annie?”
“I wanted to tell you that I’m going to be going in for some testing next week. One of the tests is a blood test that checks for genetic disorders.”
“Okay,” I said.
“It can also tell you what the sex of the baby is, even though it’s still pretty early. You don’t have to wait until the twenty-week ultrasound anymore if you don’t to.”
“Okay,” I said again. She might as well have been speaking another language.
“Did you . . . did you want to know? If the baby’s going to be a boy or a girl?”
Didn’t we already talk about this? I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. When I re-opened my eyes, I could see Lynn at Daisy’s old desk, writing something on a steno pad, underarm fat wobbling. And then, as though she could feel my eyes on her, she lifted her head and looked right at me. I swiveled in my chair so she couldn’t see my face, Annie still barking away in my ear.
“I don’t think I want to,” I said.
“You don’t?”
“No. There are so few surprises left in the world.”
“Well . . . okay, then. If you don’t want to know, I won’t find out, either. But the other thing I wanted to tell you is that if something comes up in the test, like some abnormality, that I’m going to keep it anyway. I’m not going to get rid of it.”
“You’ve already decided this?”
“Yes.”
“Then why get the test in the first place? What’s the point?”
“The point is so I can be prepared. So you can be prepared. So it’s not just this big surprise the day the baby’s born. And depending on what it is, and how severe, the doctors might need to be prepared to take the baby right away and do surgery or—”
“Okay,” I interrupted. “I get it. I don’t think we need to start speculating about all of this just yet, considering you haven’t even had the test yet.”
“I’m just trying to keep you involved,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel like this is all happening and you have no idea about it.”
“Just do what you want,” I said. I hung up the phone, realizing that more and more lately, things were happening and I felt like I had no control over them whatsoever.
At the end of Lynn’s third day, she found me in the office kitchen, looking for the Tylenol that was normally kept in the bathroom.
“Did you move the Tylenol?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“It’s usually in the bathroom, but it’s not there.”
“I haven’t touched it. I’ve got some in my purse. Well, actually it’s Midol. But I think it’ll do the same thing.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s just a headache. I probably didn’t have enough caffeine this morni
ng. You taking off?”
“Yes,” she said, but then she didn’t say anything else, she just stood there, watching me. Was she waiting for me to give her permission to go?
“Well, thanks,” I said. “It’s been working out pretty well so far—”
“I saw the way you’ve been looking at me ever since I started,” Lynn said, closing the distance between us and pressing up against me. “I normally wouldn’t do this sort of thing, but you are probably the finest man that I ever laid eyes on.” She gave me a coy look. “And Jonathan told me that you’re not seeing anyone, and that in the past you haven’t been against a little office hanky panky.”
I cringed, feeling like a trapped animal. Her tits literally had me pinned against the wall. At another time, something like this might’ve been the stuff of fantasies, but I felt nothing, other than a growing sense of claustrophobia.
“Lynn,” I said, holding my hands up like she was a cop telling me to keep my hands in the air where she could see them. “Look. I think you got the wrong idea.”
“I’m seldom wrong about these things,” she said. “I can tell when a guy looks at me and he wants to fuck. I’ve got this sixth sense about it. I know I’m probably not as pretty as some of the other women that you’ve had work for you, but trust me, I will blow your fucking mind.”
She leaned in, like she was going to kiss me. I jerked my head back, hitting it against the wall, craning my neck, a drowning man getting his last breath before he sunk below the surface of the water.
“Really,” I said. “I’m not . . . I’m just not ready for this sort of thing, actually.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not ready?” Her hand went to my crotch, and I had the very odd, first-time feeling of being violated. But there was nothing there for her to grab; nothing hard that she could hold onto, anyway.
“Oh,” she said. She looked back up at me. “I see.” She stepped back, those enormous tits of hers finally releasing me. “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks flushed. “Shit, I’m really sorry. That must seem incredibly unprofessional.”
I straightened my shirt back out. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Just don’t let it happen again. We don’t actually ever have to mention it, okay?”
“That’s fine by me. I should probably get going, anyway. I’m really sorry I was so forward.”
She hurried out, leaving me standing there, wondering if I had just imagined that whole thing to begin with.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Daisy
There was another birthday down at Failte, and this time, it turned out to be Billy McAllister’s. I hadn’t realized that when I walked through the door because he wasn’t having a big celebration that would eventually overtake the whole bar; rather, it was just him and an older man and a woman who, after giving me a big hug, he introduced to me as his parents.
“It’s my birthday,” Billy said. “And my parents wanted to take me out, and I thought what better place to come to than my favorite bar in the world, especially if there was the chance of running into you. Sit, join us.”
“That would be lovely,” his mother said, smiling. “Billy’s told us a lot about you.”
“He has?”
“Well, just that I happened to meet one of the nicest, funniest girls I think I’ve ever met before,” Billy said. He paused. “And that I hoped she wouldn’t turn me down when I asked her if she’d like to go out with me.” He grinned.
There were a couple of ways I could play this. I could agree to go out with him, because he was nice and we did get along, and I knew that would make him happy, but I knew I would never like him the same way he liked me. Or, I could tell him no, that I wasn’t interested in dating anyone right now, yet that would leave the door open to some time in the future. “I’m actually seeing someone,” I said. I knew that pretending that Ian and I were still together was not going to help me get over him any faster, but I also didn’t want Billy to start thinking that I was available. Part of me thought that it was presumptive to even be thinking that, but then I kept thinking to what Caroline had said about him wanting to take me to his parents’ summer house. If I could avoid that whole conversation altogether, it would be a good thing. What sucked was that I actually did enjoy hanging out with Billy, and getting to go with him to his parents’ summer house would probably be a lot of fun—if it was understood that it was a friends-only sort of thing.
“You are?” Billy said, his gaze going from me to his father. “You’re seeing someone?”
“Yes,” I said. I saw Billy look at his dad again, and then his dad and his mother exchanged looks. I was getting a weird feeling, all of a sudden, like there was something going on that everyone but me was privy to. I looked at Billy. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.”
“Oh,” his mother said after a moment had passed and Billy didn’t say anything. “We were under the impression that you were single.”
“I’m not quite sure what gave you that impression,” I said. “I don’t remember us talking about this before or anything.”
“Well . . .” Billy glanced at his father, who was looking at me closely, as though he were trying to detect whether or not I was lying about seeing someone. I didn’t care, though, if he had the world’s greatest bullshit detector and he knew that I wasn’t telling the truth. “I see. I didn’t realize that—”
“It’s not Ian Roubideaux, is it?” his father asked.
Inwardly, I flinched at the sound of his name, but I tried to keep my composure. “Yes,” I said. “It is.”
His father gave me a gentle smile. “Last I heard of it, Ian wasn’t involved with anyone. Or maybe it was that he was involved with several someones. He’s that kind of guy, you know. Man about town.”
“I didn’t realize you knew him,” I said stiffly.
“Of course I know him; he technically works for me.”
“He owns his own business. He doesn’t work for you.”
Billy’s father smiled. “Let me rephrase that: I am one of his biggest clients.”
“So that means you know about his love life?”
“I know about a lot of things. Something else I know is that my son is a good man and—”
“Dad,” Billy said, a mortified expression on his face. “I thought you told me that you had talked to him—”
“Ian?” I interrupted. “Are you saying you got your dad to talk to Ian?” The realization hit me—and of course, it was so obvious now. That had been the impetus for Ian’s sudden decision that we just stop seeing each other. I knew there had to be something more, that I wasn’t getting the whole story.
“Daisy,” Billy said, turning to me, “I’m sorry, I know it probably seems really weird that my father would talk to Ian.”
I stared at him. “Um, yeah, that’s putting it mildly.”
“We’ve known Ian a while,” he continued, as though that somehow made it okay. “He and I went to school together.”
“Yeah, I think he might have mentioned that. But what does that have to do with the fact that you got your father to talk to with Ian, and basically made him break up with me?”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were together,” Billy said. “I mean, he had mentioned that you guys were sort of seeing each other, but . . . well . . . knowing Ian, and his past . . . he’s always seeing someone. Or that’s how he used to be anyway.”
“I see. So you figured I was just another disposable name on Ian’s list.” It occurred to me as I said it that I thought I had been too, for a little while, but I knew that wasn’t really the case. “And I know Ian,” I said. “Why would he just do what you told him to? That doesn’t even make any sense. He’s not the type of person that you can just tell him what to do and he’ll go along with it.”
“You’re right,” Billy’s father said. “He’s really not. That’s something that I’ve respected about him all these years, too. But . . . there are a few things one could say to him that he’d have reason to go
along with.”
“Like what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “What did you say to him?”
“Do you really want to get into this? It’s all water under the bridge now.”
“No, it’s not, because whatever it was you talked to him about directly affected me. So it’s not just ‘water under the bridge now’ or whatever it is you want to call it.”
“Perhaps this isn’t the time or the place for this,” Billy’s mother said.
“I don’t think it’s ever the time or place to have your parents interfere with something like this.” I could feel my anger rising, my voice getting louder; I didn’t care. Who the hell did these people think they were? Why did they think for a second that it would be okay? “You know what? You don’t have to tell me what you said to Ian—I’m sure it was something vile. Or it was probably a lie. Or some combination of the two. But now let me tell you something. I am not interested in dating your son.”
The air seemed to hang heavily between us. Billy’s mother blinked like she couldn’t believe that someone was actually saying this about her son. His father’s expression was harder to read, though it might have been bordering on one of amusement. Billy, I could only see out of the corner of my eye, and his head was in his hands.
“It’s not that I don’t think he’s very nice—because I do,” I said, wanting to backpedal a little, but not enough so they’d get the wrong idea. “He seems very nice, and we actually get along quite well, but I will never date him. And would you like to know why?”
“No, it’s really okay,” Billy said, picking his head up. “It’d be great if we actually just terminated this entire conversation. Is that possible? Can we do that? Or should I just get up and leave?”
His mother reached out and patted his hand. “Sweetie, it’s your birthday,” she said. “I want this to be a happy celebration.”
He grimaced. “Well, there’s no way in hell that’s going to happen.” He looked at me. “Daisy, I’m really sorry. I think I got the wrong idea, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. I think you’re really great—I’ve got no shame in admitting that. And if you wanted to date me, I’d be thrilled. But if it’s just a friend thing for you, that’s cool. I’m fine with that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything.”