Having Henley

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Having Henley Page 18

by Megyn Ward


  Tess studies me for a minute, her full mouth drawn into a thin, grim line. I can’t decide if she’s trying to rein in her temper or keep from laughing in my face. When she finally opens her mouth, it’s to change the subject completely. “Do you want to marry this Jeremy guy?”

  “He’s my friend, and he needs my help.” I know it’s not the answer she’s looking for, but it’s the only answer I can give. The truth feels too much like a betrayal.

  Tess nods her head like she understands. The Tess I know would do anything for someone she cared about, but just because she understands, doesn’t mean she likes it. “When this goes bad—and it will go bad—I need you to understand that I’m with Connor, all the way. It won’t matter to me what he does or how badly he behaves. I’m with him.” She enunciates her words and speaks clearly. “He could murder the world, and you’d find me, following along behind him with a shovel, burying the evidence.”

  There are so many things about Tess that I’ve missed. Her hard, bone-crushing hugs. Her way of speaking plainly. Her dry, sarcastic wit. But it’s her blind loyalty that I’ve missed the most. Knowing that she’s no longer loyal to me hurts more than I want to admit.

  “I understand.” Setting my glass flat on the table, I straighten my shoulders. “Now what?”

  “I’ll tell you now what.” Tess drains her glass before slamming it onto the table between us. “Now we’re gonna go to Benny’s, and you’re buying my ass some pancakes.”

  Thirty-nine

  Conner

  I read lips. I taught myself when I was five because I wanted to know what my parents were getting me for Christmas. I wanted a computer. Since this was back when my parents were still in denial about what kind of kid I was, I ended up getting a new bike, which I promptly rode off the roof and broke my arm.

  The Christmas after that, I got a computer

  Even after the bike incident, I kept at it. It was fun, being able to eavesdrop on conversations from across the room. Almost like a superpower.

  These days, I use the skill to aid and abet my penchant for anonymous bathroom hook-ups. Tonight, I’m using it to eavesdrop on Henley, so by the end of the night, I know everything.

  I know that when that Dalton guy asked who I was, she said I just a guy she used to know.

  I know that her fiancé is gay. That he’s paying her more money than I will ever see in a lifetime to marry him. I know that she came looking for me because she was in the market for casual, no strings sex. I know that before last night, Henley was a virgin.

  A goddamned virgin.

  Holy Christ.

  It doesn’t seem possible. Nothing about last night indicated it was her first time. She was nervous, yeah, but…

  “I wanted it to be you, Conner,” she says, tilting her head to press her lips against my jaw. “I always wanted it to be you. I never stopped wanting it to be you.”

  Before I can think too hard about what I’m going to do with the information, I hear a quick knock on the office door before it opens.

  “Hey,”

  Declan is standing in the doorway, balancing a bag full of credit card receipts on top of the cash register drawer and in his hand. It only takes one look for me to know that someone—probably Cap‘n—told him everything.

  The fact that he looks sorry for me makes me want to put my head through a wall. “What’s up?” I say, sliding my mouth across its pad to angle the cameras away from the booth where Tess and Henley are sitting. Last thing I need for him to catch me using the cameras he had installed.

  “Some girl named Kaitlyn said you gave her and her friends a tab?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it and he shouldn’t. I’m not in the habit of giving drinks to anyone for free. Not even Tess. She earns hers, every time she climbs behind the bar to bail us out. “I told Patrick it was probably some chick trying to run—”

  “I gave it to her,” I say sitting back in my chair, wondering how much my little one-act play is going to set me back. “What’s the damage?”

  “Her girlfriends started ordering top-shelf and she stopped them. Asked for two rounds of college girl specials and a pitcher of that shitty IPA Da keeps ordering—sixty buck.” Declan shakes his head like he couldn’t believe my luck. “It could’ve been ugly. Girl saved your ass.”

  In more ways than one…

  When I don’t agree or do anything more than just stare at him, Dec clears his throat. “I need to get in here, so I can tally up tonight’s take.” His superior tone puts my backup.

  “Why don’t you head on home to the little woman,” I say, giving him a nasty smirk. “I’ll take care of the money.”

  From the look on Declan’s face, you would’ve thought I suggested we set it on fire. Never mind that I have a doctorate in advanced mathematics. The fact that I suggested he trust me with anything makes him nervous. I try not to take it personally, but I do.

  Because yeah—I’m the criminal here.

  He shifts from one foot to the other, like he’s got a boot full of hot coals. “No, that’s all right. Jessica is out with girlfriends. Bridesmaid thing.”

  My smirk gets even nastier. “Another bridesmaid thing.” Either he’s too stupid to live, or he just doesn’t give a shit. I’m afraid it’s the former while hoping it’s the latter. Knowing myself well enough to know I’m about three seconds away from saying something really shitty, I stand. “She’s all yours,” I say skirting the desk. He doesn’t say anything else until I’m almost on top of them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His apology rankles me even more than usual. Probably because I know what he’s apologizing for.

  “For what?” I know what he’s talking about, but I want to make him say it.

  “I—” He stops short, shaking his head because as usual, he doesn’t want to fight. The only way I can bait him into it these days is by throwing Tess into the mix, and I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to use her like that. She’s been used by Gilroys enough. “Patrick told me who she was—that woman from last night.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Why?” I cock my head, nailing him in the eye with a hard glare. “Did you know it was her went you sent me over to her last night?”

  “What?” Dec jerks back like I spit on him. “No. You think I would—” He stops himself before he can finish the question. He knows exactly what I think of him. There’s no need to ask. “No. I didn’t recognize her. Did you?”

  Did I?

  “No.” It’s a lie. I know that now. I think I might’ve on some weird subconscious level. “Had a bit of an accident,” I say, gesturing toward the pile of whiskey-soaked papers I scraped off the floor after Henley left. “Sorry, bro.” I push past him and into the hallway. Not more than two steps away before I hear the door slam shut behind me. He’s mad. Probably because he thinks I did it on purpose, just to fuck with him. I didn’t. But I let him think it because I like it better when Declan’s pissed at me.

  Closing time was about an hour ago, so the place is empty. Patrick’s behind the bar restocking the garnish stations and making sure the wells are full, and the waitresses are long gone.

  Tess and Henley are still sitting in my booth, drinking and laughing. “You ready to go?” I say to Tess careful not to look at Henley.

  “Actually, we’re heading over to Benny’s,” Tess says on the tail end of a laugh. She’s not what I would call fall-down drunk, but she’s definitely not sober either. “You want to go with us?”

  Us. Meaning her and Henley.

  The thought of spending the next two hours sitting within feet of her makes my skin feel tight. Like I’m trapped inside my own body. Like I need to get the fuck away from her before I do or say something both of us won’t be able to walk away from.

  “No,” I say, in a bid for freedom. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” I spit out the lie before forcing my mouth into a cocky grin. “Last chance, sure you don’t want a walk home?”

  “I’m sure,” Tess says, giving me a small,
knowing smile. She knows I don’t have somewhere to be. That I’m running from Henley like a scared little bitch. “Henley can drive me home after Benny’s.”

  “Suit yourself.” I backed away from the table forcing myself not to run. “See you later,” I say before I spin on my heel and head for the door.

  I have no idea where I’m going, but I know that if I want to hang on to even a semblance of self-control, it’s going to have to be far, far away from Henley O’Connell.

  Forty

  Henley

  “Conner hates me.”

  I watch Tess’s shoulders stiffen under the weight of my words, the slope of them tensing for a brief moment before relaxing. I know I’m not being fair to her. That she’s Conner’s friend now, more than she is mine. I need to at least try to keep her from getting caught in the middle.

  The problem is, she’s all I have here. She’s the only person I can talk to about this.

  I think about the way he looked at me when I pulled back from whispering in his ear.

  I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind.

  I thought I was being so clever. So cool. I wanted to prove it didn’t bother me. That I didn’t care that he had some other girl exactly where he had me, just last night. I wanted him to know I understood what this was. What we were. That I could do casual, just as easy as he could.

  But when I pulled away and looked up at him, He looked like I’d just spit on him.

  “He doesn’t hate you, Henley,” she says, cutting into her stack of pancakes with the kind of precision you’d see a surgeon perform a triple bypass. “He’s just… different than he was when you knew him. It’s going to take time for the two of you to get to know each other again, is all.”

  Time. The one thing I don’t have.

  As soon as we walked into the diner, we were swallowed by a crush of people. Drunk college kids and blue-collar types, mixed with more than a few affluent types, all standing around, waiting for a table.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I say snagging Tess’s arm before she disappeared too deep into the crowd.

  “Don’t worry,” she says giving me a crooked smile. “We’ll get a table.”

  As soon as she says it, a loud voice erupts from behind the hostess station. “Hey, Audrey.” A face appears, hovering just above the podium, a pair of sharp, dark brown eyes peering up at us. It’s the same waitress who worked here when I was younger, Nora. I recognize her instantly. “Where're my boys?”

  “Just me and my friend tonight.” Tess leans in, her smile softening around the edges. She could always be charming when she wanted to be. “Cap’n’s still wrapping stuff up at the bar, and Con said he had someplace to be.”

  “I bet he did.” The cackle that erupts from behind the podium is loud and raucous. “That boy’s a walkin’, talkin’ pile of trouble,” she says while her sharp gaze rakes over my face. “What you lookin’ at, Rita?”

  Rita?

  I open my mouth to tell her my name isn’t Rita, but Tess stops me by putting a hand on my arm. “Nora, you remember Henley O’Connell, don’t you?”

  As soon as she says my name, Nora’s eyes narrow on my face, making me feel self-conscious. Even though I look nothing like I did eight years ago, I still find myself worried that the woman will recognize me. “Henley O’Connell, huh?” she says, her sparse eyebrows arched high on her wrinkly forehead. “You’re the girl who broke my Con’s heart.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and I had the distinct impression that she was contemplating ripping out my jugular with her teeth.

  “Well—”

  “Is the booth open?” Tess cuts in, saving me from saying something that would undoubtedly make things worse. “I need pancakes.”

  As soon as Nora turned feral, she settled again with another loud cackle. “Girl, you always need pancakes.” She shoots me another sharp look before she waves her hand. “Booth’s open—I’ll send Tina over with coffee.”

  Tess hauls me away before anything else can be said.

  Now, I look up from my French toast, aiming a scowl at her bent head. “Well, Nora sure as hell hates me.”

  “She’s protective of her Gilroy boys. Even Declan.” Tess laughs, lifting one shoulder higher than the other. “I suppose if Cari were here, she’d get a tongue lashing too.”

  “Cari?”

  “Cari Faraday—she’s a friend,” Tess tells me around a mouthful of pancakes. “Patrick met her in college, and they became roommates. And then more the roommates...” She shrugs her shoulders. “She moved back home a few months ago. Ohio.” She says it like it’s a dirty word. I can tell there’s more to the story but whatever the more is I’m not going to get it out of her. Not today.

  We sit here for a few minutes, neither one of us saying anything. Before the silence can grow uncomfortable, I remember something I wanted to tell her. “Oh! You’re never going to guess who I ran into this afternoon.” Before she can take a guess, I keep talking. “Jessica Renfro. She was in the elevator of my apartment building with Ephraim Viaga.” I don’t have to tell Tess who Ephraim Viaga is. She’s almost as big a Red Sox fan as I am. “They were all over each other, and she didn’t recognize me, so I…” I let my story trail off as I watch the color drain out of Tess’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “You saw Jessica with Ephraim Viaga?”

  I let my smile fall flat because I get the sudden impression that what I saw isn’t as funny as I thought it was. “Yeah. This afternoon. In the elevator of my apartment building. My guess is a lot of major leaguers live there during the season since it’s right across the street from the ballpark.”

  “Did you tell anyone else?” Her hand shoots across the table to clip itself around my wrist. “Connor? Did you tell Connor?”

  The way she says it makes my stomach hurt. Like knowing that Jessica Renfro was sleeping with a baseball player was something that would upset him. I think about the way she used to show up at his house with her long blonde hair and perfect smile. She wanted Connor, but I had him, even if she didn’t know it. What if the tables were turned now? What if—

  “Jessica is engaged to Declan.” Tess throws it out there, the declaration landing on the table between us with a dull thud. I know I’m staring at her with my mouth open because she sighs. “Yeah. I know.” She rolls her eyes in disgust, but I catch it. Hurt. Saying it hurts her. “They’re getting married next spring.”

  “Declan?” I shake my head, completely unable to put the two of them together. It was always Conner she wanted. Conner, she pursued. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does if you know the story.” She pushes her plate away before easing herself out of our booth. “It’s a long one. One I’m willing to tell but not here.” She didn’t look willing at all. If anything, she looked resigned.

  “Okay.” I stand up. Reaching into my purse, I pull out a few bills and toss them on the table without looking at the check. “Where are we going?”

  Tess makes a sound in the back of her throat, reaching down to fan the bills I tossed across the table. “There’s a couple hundred dollars here,” she says, shaking her head at me. “The bill was less than thirty.”

  “The service was excellent,” I say, fighting the flush that’s creeping up my neck. I let my mother dress me like a doll. I allowed Spencer to choose my college. Buy my cars. Send me on trips. This is the only way I actively spend the money I suddenly find myself drowning in. I give it away, every chance I get. “Now are you going to tell me about Jessica and Declan, or not?”

  “Sure, okay.” Tess shrugs, like after thinking about it, my excessive tipping isn’t worth busting my chops over. “Come on—I’ll tell you all about it while you drive me home.”

  Forty-one

  Conner

  I can’t sleep.

  Which makes sense, really. I slept for seven straight hours last night. By all rights, I shouldn’t sleep again until sometime next week. It usually doesn’t bother me this mu
ch. Most nights I use the time to do me. I read. Work on my boards. Listen to music. Hack the Pentagon.

  At the moment, I’m contemplating knocking myself out with a hammer because I can’t concentrate on any of those things. All I can think about is Henley. All my brain wants to do is rerun every word she ever said to me. Every time she touched me. Every time she hurt me.

  In a desperate bid for sanity, I finish patching up the Windstar and shoot a text to its single mom owner, telling her it’s ready for an early pick-up. What I don’t tell her is that her hunk of junk isn’t on its last leg anymore. It’s a zombie at this point. Officially dead but still running. The next time it takes a shit on her will be the last time. She might get another week or two out of it if she’s lucky.

  She waitresses the 12pm-5am shift at Benny’s so I get a quick reply.

  Tina: Thanks! I don’t

  know what I do without you.

  Me: It’s all good.

  Tina: Tess was here. Her

  friend left me a HUGE tip.

  Henley. I can imagine her pulling out a huge wad of cash from her designer bag. Flipping a stack of bills onto the table like they were nothing more than a wad of used tissues. I don’t know why it makes me so mad, but it does, thinking about her running around the neighborhood, throwing cash around like its nothing. Probably because to her, it is.

  Me: She’s loaded. Take

  the money and run.

  Tina: She seemed really

  nice. It was good to see Tess

  with someone besides you. ;)

  She meant it as a joke, but it still stings. I know that hanging out with me all the time isn’t good for her. Tess needs real friends. Other women she can talk to about things she can’t talk to me about.

 

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