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Sex, Lies & Black Tie

Page 5

by Kris Calvert


  Quickly, he tapped his fingers across the keyboard of the phone, swiping and tapping again. “Thank you,” he said again, handing the phone back to me. “I’ll see you in a couple of days with a whole team of people.”

  “I’ll be ready,” I said, showing him out the front door.

  “Thank you, and sorry for the inconvenience today.”

  “No. Thank you.”

  The house now empty of all senators, tech geeks and Secret Servicemen, I took a deep breath for the first time since Boone arrived. I was beyond excited to host this party. “Thank you, Jesus,” I sighed, looking up.

  “Don’t be thanking Him, you better be praying to Him—hard,” Celia shouted.

  “Celia,” I moaned.

  Walking out of the kitchen she leaned against the wall, cocking her head to the side to give me the eye. Celia was the mother figure in my life that loved me unconditionally. She also didn’t have a problem with telling me when she thought I was wrong. She’d given Mac her unsolicited opinion his entire life. I started getting the business as Mac called it, soon after we were married. Once I was a Callahan, I was under her wing and that meant I was going to hear what she had to say. The thing was, she was usually right.

  “This fancy party is gonna be more trouble than it’s worth,” Celia said, bobbing the dishtowel in her hand at me. “Mark my words.”

  4

  MAC

  One pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt and a car ride to K Street later, Micah was parking the car. I was famished. She was silent.

  “I dream about these burgers,” I said, stepping onto the curb and under the red awning of my favorite burger joint in the city. “Fried chicken I can get in the south, but a burger like this?”

  “So you’ve missed more than me here in D.C.?” Micah asked with a laugh.

  “I’m having the Triple Double, fries and a Ricky Bobby milkshake.”

  “God, I love it when you talk dirty.”

  I gave Micah the side eye, and opened the door for her. “C’mon boss, let’s eat.”

  After sitting, I cased the room per my usual before bringing my attention back to Micah.

  “Anything interesting?” she asked.

  I relaxed into my chair. “Old habits die hard.”

  With a sigh Micah looked to her lap, murmuring her words under her breath. “Not all of them.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You never did.”

  I stared at Micah. She was a beautiful woman, in an interesting sort of way. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her, how she dressed, how many tattoos she had. I always found it refreshing she knew exactly who she was and made no excuses for it. Micah had boyfriends in the past, but no one ever seemed to fully match up. I was uncertain as to whether Micah knew what she wanted in a man, but hoped a new love was what she wanted to speak with me about face to face. When she remained quiet, I worried it was something more.

  “What’s bothering you?” I finally asked after waiting out a moment of silence. “Did I do something I’m not aware of that ticked you off? Or am I just making all this hostile behavior up in my head?”

  She stared at me without blinking.

  “What?”

  “You left me here.”

  “Where?”

  “Washington.”

  I sank in into my seat. “Are we going to go through this again? What was I supposed to do, Micah?” I asked, bringing my voice down and leaning into the table. “I fell in love with Sam. I got married. I moved home. I had a family.”

  “I know we’ve been through all of this before, but it’s just not the same without you.”

  I popped my eyebrows, thinking how much I missed the action and dropped my head. “You’re acting like I left you behind. I didn’t. I left my career behind.”

  “But why?” she asked. “You dropped everything and just disappeared.”

  “Well, I was shot and then my wife was stalked when we were supposed to be on our honeymoon. I could’ve lost everything, Micah—Samantha, the kids. I don’t ever want to put them in danger like that again. I don’t know what I would do if something ever happened to one of them.”

  Micah fell quiet. This was not the woman I was used to seeing. We’d had this same conversation after the wedding. She’d confessed that she cared for me, but I thought she’d put it all behind her. We’d never slept together. We did however have one horrible drunken night—a night I didn’t completely recall. We swore to each other we’d never speak of it again for fear of ruining our friendship. Even then, she never acted this way around me.

  Pulling away from the table, she was suddenly behaving like a pouting girl instead of herself.

  “Whatever,” she mumbled.

  I dropped my chin to catch her gaze. “No. Not whatever. Tell me. I care about you Micah. What’s going on?”

  “Do you ever think about it?” she asked.

  “Think about what?”

  “The night.”

  “What night?” I knew she was talking about the one night I wished I could take back. Why she wanted to bring it up now was beyond me.

  “You’re such a dick. You know the night I’m talking about.”

  Dropping my shoulders with a sigh, I began to play with my fork, sliding it back and forth between my fingers. “What about it?” I asked, my voice raspy with fear. “I thought we decided we would never speak of it. I mean, it’s been like…six years.”

  “Do you ever think about it?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip. She wasn’t going to like my reply, but there was no good way to answer the question. “Honestly?”

  “Have we ever been anything but honest with each other, Mac?”

  “No.”

  “So do you think about it?”

  “No.”

  “Does Samantha know?”

  Suddenly we’d crossed from not talking about the night in question to me telling Sam about it. It was new territory—something I didn’t want to get into. Besides, according to Micah herself, other than a little kissing, nothing happened. “Look, what I discuss with my wife is between me and Samantha. You know I’m not going to answer that question.”

  “So, that’s a no,” Micah quipped.

  “That’s not a no, that’s a it’s none of your damn business. See the difference?”

  Micah sat in silence, looking at me—studying me. “I guess in your defense. I did tie you up,” she said nonchalantly. “I suppose none of it was your fault anyway.”

  Lowering my voice, I looked around the restaurant as if someone was listening in. “What in the hell are you even talking about? I take full responsibility for my actions that night, but nothing happened. It was no one’s fault. I don’t understand why you feel the need to talk about it when we explicitly decided to never discuss it again,” I whispered, tapping my index finger to the table with each important word. “I mean, we worked together after that night, never speaking of it and everything was just fine—no problems.”

  “Yeah…right.”

  Suddenly I backtracked in my head. Did she say she’d tied me up? “And what do you mean, you tied me up?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Forget I ever said anything.”

  I knew women. I knew women well. Her words said one thing, but her body language and tone told an altogether different story. Regardless of whether I wanted to discuss that night or not, it was going to happen.

  “C’mon Micah.”

  “I just wonder sometimes…” she said. “You know. If we’d never worked together how it might’ve turned out.

  “Look, that night—that one night,” I said, allowing my frustration to show. “I’d just returned from Shadeland where I’d been forced to put my mother in a nursing home. I had to take my beautiful mother from Lone Oak, the plantation she loved—the only thing she had left after my father died—and place her in a home where she died. Are you listening to me? A nursing home,” I hissed.

  “I know,” Micah said
, trying to calm me. “Jesus Mac, I know. I remember how pitiful you were that night. I felt so sorry for you. All you wanted was for your mother to be happy. And all I wanted was to take the pain of it away for just one night.”

  “So we got drunk. Maybe we kissed,” I said.

  “Maybe…we made love.”

  My ears began to ring and I felt the blood rush to my face. My entire body tensed and I couldn’t breathe. I swallowed hard, staring into her face looking for a sign she was joking. “That’s not funny, Micah.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  I fidgeted in my seat, rubbing the five o’clock shadow across my mouth. “You told me nothing happened that night. I don’t remember…anything.”

  “Well,” she quipped. “I lied.”

  “Why the hell did you lie to me?”

  “Because of what’s happening right now. I didn’t want to be what I knew you would make me—another notch on your whittling stick of a bedpost.”

  I didn’t know how to feel about any of it in the moment, but as the shock wore off, I was pissed. Suddenly, thinking about a night that took place four years before I knew Samantha even existed, made me feel like I’d been unfaithful. I was angry at Micah for dropping this bomb. “Why now?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Why are you telling me this now? I mean, I knew you were in love with me at one time—you told me so—but this? Why now? What difference does it make?”

  “God, you’re such a narcissistic asshole. I’m only telling you because, just like that night when you were distraught and depressed, I was there for you.”

  “Yeah…and?”

  “And now it’s your turn to be there for me.”

  “No fucking way. No fucking way.” I repeated myself involuntarily.

  “Oh calm down, you big pussy. I’m not going to tie you up—not like that night.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, as long as we’re telling the whole truth here…”

  “Micah, please stop whatever this is that you’re doing. Stop it now.”

  “Look, I’m depressed. And my shrink says part of that is not coming to terms with the absolutes of my life—the things I can’t change. I love you, Mac. You, on the other hand, do not love me. I’m willing to come to terms with it, but not without being completely open and honest with you about every aspect of our relationship. That’s all.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage I felt inside. She’d picked a public place to have this conversation so I wouldn’t lose my mind and scream at her. “Are you done? Is there anything else I need to know?”

  “Do you want the details of the night? What we did? I mean, what I did to you and what you did to me?”

  “Hell no. I don’t want to hear any of it. I want to leave.”

  “But our food’s not here yet.”

  “Do you at least feel better getting all that off your chest?”

  She took a deep breath. “Actually, I do.”

  “This is unfuckingbelievable. You know, some things are better off never being discussed again—like we agreed in the first place.”

  “So you do remember that night.”

  “What? No!”

  I was suddenly aware of my own voice and how out of control it was. I stood, the chair screeching across the floor. I needed air. I needed it now.

  Walking away, I headed toward the back of the restaurant, looking for a door to the back alley. All I found was the men’s room. Leaning into the sink, I splashed water on my face, taking two towels from the dispenser without looking up.

  I stared into my own reflection in the dark room. I came to Washington feeling like I didn’t know who I was anymore. Now, staring back at me in the mirror, was an image that confirmed my worst fear. I was lost.

  My pants pocket rang, and I pulled out my phone to find Samantha’s face smiling at me.

  “Hey, baby. I miss you,” I said, foregoing my usual hello.

  “Hey,” she drawled. “We miss you too. I was informed tonight that I don’t play with the battleships correctly in the tub. I guess I need to work on my explosion sounds.”

  The softness of her voice relaxed me. “Tell Dax I’ll be home soon and the seventh fleet is going down.”

  “Dax?” she asked with a giggle. “I hate to tell you this, but I’m talking about your daughter.”

  “Oh,” I said, thinking of my blonde-haired blue eyed princess who would have a birthday in a few days. “Tell her I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  I leaned against the white tile wall and waited for Samantha to say something—anything.

  “Mac, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “C’mon. I can hear it in your voice. What is it?”

  “No, really,” I lied. “I’m just tired. I’m just tired and I miss you already. I should’ve packed you and the kids up and brought the whole crew to D.C.”

  “That would’ve been a disaster. Besides, I had my meeting with Senator Henry and an old agent friend of yours today. Harlan Jackman?”

  “Wait. They were at Lone Oak today?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because they were supposed to have dinner with me tonight and cancelled. We have a lunch meeting tomorrow.”

  “Boone mentioned something about that. He said that he wanted to come to Shadeland first, before meeting with you. I think he wanted to check out the venue to make sure it was suitable for the gala.”

  “Lone Oak? Not suitable?”

  “No, sweetie. They loved it. We walked the grounds, he approved of the tent and then they looked around the house for security reasons and connectivity or something. They were in and out in less than an hour.”

  “Oh,” I murmured. “Okay.”

  “So, Mac.”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “If you didn’t have dinner with them, who are you out to dinner with?”

  “Oh,” I said catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror again. “I’m with Micah having a burger and catching up.”

  “That’s nice. How is she?”

  “She’s ah…I don’t know…she’s Micah.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Mac?”

  “Yes,” I said straightening up and taking a deep breath. “Like I said, I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m also standing in the men’s room, so I better run, Micah’s going to think I fell in or left her with the check.”

  “No she wouldn’t,” Samantha said. “She loves you—thinks you walk on water.”

  I paused. “Because I do.”

  “No. But you make my world go ’round. So bring yourself home. You won’t regret it.”

  “Baby, since the day I met you, regret was just a word other people used.”

  “I love you, Mac Callahan.”

  “I love you more. Get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  I hung up and stared at my phone. Micah couldn’t take anything away from me—not tonight, not ever.

  I walked out of the men’s room to find our food on the table, and Micah on the phone.

  I sat, calmer than I was when I left, and watched her turn in her chair to face the wall as she spoke. I took a sip of my milkshake and thanked the gods above I’d ordered one with alcohol.

  She hung up, facing me with a blank stare. “What?” I asked, still too pissed to be considerate.

  “It’s Frankie.”

  “Your sister?”

  Micah stared beyond me and remained silent.

  “What?” I began, now pausing to acknowledge her unspoken panic. “What is it?”

  “Her roommate…she…she said—”

  Micah frantically began typing on her phone then quickly made a call.

  “Is she in trouble?” I asked.

  “She’s gone.”

  93.43.239.148

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  5

  MAC

  Tossing some bills on the table to cover our dinner, I took Micah by the arm and led her out of the burger place to the parking lot.

  “Tell me exactly what she said.”

  “It was her roommate. They both went on the trip to New York, but after the last class, Frankie told Beth she wanted to walk around the city a little before going back to the hotel. I mean, the kid knows New York like the back of her hand. We’re from Jersey for Christ’s sake.”

  “What time was that?” I asked, opening the door to her car, placing her in the passenger’s seat and taking the keys from her shaking hands.

  “Two days ago.”

  I walked around the car, dropping my shoulders. This was bad. This was really bad. “And you’re just hearing about it now?” I asked starting the car and dialing my phone. “I’m calling the office to find out who we know in the city.”

  “Her roommate said she didn’t want to panic, because Frankie had been talking to some guy and made plans to meet him while she was in the city. She thinks that’s where she went. If that’s the truth, then she never made it back to the hotel.”

  “Sweet Jesus. She was going to see some guy she met online? Did her roommate call the police?” I asked, barreling through the streets of D.C.

  “They called the police just now. The bus is loading to leave, and Frankie isn’t back.” Her voice shook with fear. “Oh God, Mac, what if something’s happened to her? Something bad.”

  “Who is this?” I asked the voice on the other end, nodding at Micah to acknowledge her concern. “Brian? This is Mac Callahan. Contact the New York City office and NYPD. We’ve got a possible child abduction. It’s one of our own.”

  I looked to Micah. Tears streamed down her face and everything she’d said to me earlier seemed to fall into the background. My heart raced. Since becoming a father, every tragedy that befell others with children made me pause—What would I do if anything ever happened to Dax or Katy?

  “Great. Get him on the phone. We’ll be in the office in five.”

  I hung up and looked to Micah. “Do you have any tracking software on her phone? Anything at all? Something simple you can check?”

 

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