The Tea Series

by Sheila Horgan

  I had to sit down. All this time I had been really comfortable with the thought that he’d kicked the crap out of me. That’s very different than someone trying to kill you. To take your life away. He. Tried. To. Kill. Me.

  “Are you okay? You look a little pale. You want me to get you anything?”

  “I’m okay. I don’t know why that hit me so hard. Sorry. No pun intended. It’s just that when I think about it I think more along the lines of getting beaten up, not of attempted murder.”

  “I bet.”

  “Does Suzi know?”

  “Know what?”

  “I don’t think she was thinking of it in those terms either.”

  “Suzi will be fine, and her terms are not your problem. She knew he was dangerous, and she didn’t warn anyone. I know she’s your friend, Cara, but the way she handled this damn near got you killed.”

  The look on A.J.’s face was heartbreaking.

  He was ashen.

  I’m not sure how much he heard, but he’d heard enough.

  I swear I need to put a bell around his neck. He moves so quietly I never know when he’s come in the room, and somewhere in the middle of Teagan’s explanation — or worse, her rant — he’d walked in.

  He walked over to the couch, sat beside me, put his arm around me, and kissed my temple. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything.”

  “My family did.”

  “Please, don’t do that. I am convinced that Suzi never, ever thought that Barry would do something like he did to me.”

  Teagan couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Or at least she never thought he would do it to anyone but her. I’m sorry, but that thought had to go through her mind. She had to know that he was capable of it even if she didn’t think it would be done anywhere but behind her closed doors.

  I shook my head. “That’s the most disturbing part.”

  A.J. took a deep breath. “So, Teagan, what exactly do we know?”

  “He isn’t putting on a defense. One lawyer is claiming that he’s a broken man and that he needs treatment, not prison. He doesn’t want to have any part of it. He’s doing what is necessary to make sure that it isn’t a mistrial later. He is a repeat offender. They are saying twenty-five to life. No one they’ve talked to thinks it’s going to be closer to the twenty-five side of it.”

  “I can’t believe he isn’t fighting it. That just seems like such a long time. You see things like this on the television all the time. Guys do this crazy stuff, and they get a good lawyer, and then they get a plea deal, and the next thing you know, they are out of jail in a minute and a half. I figured by the time my hair grew back in, Barry would be taking his kid to the parks on Saturday afternoons, and all of this would be behind us.”

  A.J.’s voice was so gruff. Yeah, gruff. It’s the only way to describe it. “Even if he were out of jail, he’d never set foot near that baby, Cara.”

  “I’m not saying that Suzi wouldn’t put up a fight, but look what happened to Morgan. She thought everything was all good, and then that guy, the guy who raped her, came back and tried to take her son. That’s kind of what you expect these days. The good guy never wins. I guess because I always saw myself as the good guy, I figured everything would come down on Barry’s side.”

  Teagan crossed her arms and ran her hands up and down like she was trying to warm herself. “That’s just a sad, sad commentary on our system. Cara, you are the most optimistic person I know. You’re pathetically optimistic. Terminally optimistic, even. For you to take such a pessimistic view, that just breaks my heart.”

  “I don’t think of it as pessimistic. I think of it as realistic.”

  Teagan released her arms and ran her hands down her legs, almost as if she were brushing away the negativity. “Either way, according to the word in the legal community — sources that will remain nameless but that have very direct information — say that Barry is not likely to see the light of day for at least seventeen years but more likely more than forty-nine years.”

  “Suzi’s baby will be a father. Maybe a grandfather. That’s so weird.”

  Teagan does exasperated so well. “He almost killed you, Cara.”

  “Would you stop saying that?”

  “You need to accept it.”

  “Just because I’ve accepted something doesn’t mean we have to dwell on it, does it?”

  A.J. hadn’t said another word.

  He let out a long sigh.

  “I gotta go. I’m sorry. If there were any way I could get out of this, I would, but the guy called me while I was on my way here, and I confirmed, and he’s already moving everything out there for the shoot.”

  “There’s no reason to apologize. I’m fine. You have offered over and over again to cancel everything and stay with me. I said no. We’re good.”

  “You sure?”

  Teagan interjected. “It’s a conspiracy. Cara just wants to spend more time with me.”

  A.J. stuffed some papers in his pocket on his way to the door. “Probably true. She’s missed you, Teagan. Hell, even I’ve missed you.”

  Teagan had a slightly stunned look on her face. It was great.

  I took a second to just look at him. A.J. had such a sad look on his face. He really needs to get over the guilt he feels that his sister’s husband just about killed me.

  See, there, I said it.

  Barry would have done the same thing either way, because I was Suzi’s friend long before I even met A.J.

  None of this is A.J.’s fault or responsibility.

  I just can’t get him to see that.

  I walked A.J. the rest of the way to the door and got a rather chaste kiss for my efforts. I hate it when A.J. is upset. I hate it more when he feels guilty. Because of me.

  After closing the door and making sure it was locked, I mentioned that to Teagan. Mistake. “Looks like you guys are kindred spirits.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Cara, you’re the queen of taking responsibility for things you have no control over. You just said it is your fault that A.J. feels terrible. It isn’t your fault. How is it your fault that Barry chose to beat you up or that A.J. feels bad about it?”

  “Good point.”

  EIGHT

  “DINGLEBERRY, WHAT ARE you doing right now?”

  I held the phone away from my head for a second and gave it a confused look. I’m glad no one was in my apartment to see it. I don’t know why people do that; it’s not like the phone knows what’s going on.

  “Teagan, I’m figuring out my office. Moving things around and getting organized. That’s a strange opening line, even for you.”

  “Don’t start. You want to come play referee?”

  “What?”

  “Guess what. Honey just called. She’s pretty much demanding a face-to-face meeting with me. She doesn’t sound happy.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Well, it’s not as bad as it could be. Like two minutes before she called, I got off the phone with this super-rich and successful guy who wants a personal assistant.”

  “Okay.”

  “Kind of like what you do for Adeline, but in person.”

  “Okay.”

  “He offered me more money than I’m making with Mr. Fisher, and it would mean that I get to travel all over the place first class, and I’d get to meet some really interesting people.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t just say okay. You’re starting to make me mad.”

  “I’m just waiting for the punch line.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You, as a personal assistant? I don’t see it. And of all the people in the world, you making a rash decision and leaving a job that you love and people you think of as family, nope, I don’t get it.”

  “I don’t want to be a personal assistant. To be honest, the guy was a little creepy, and the thought of going all over the place with him made me uncomfortable. He was perfectly professional, but there was just someth
ing there that was, well, not menacing or scary, just a little yucky.”

  “Then why are you even thinking about it?”

  “I’m not. I just want to have at least one fallback position in case Honey fires my butt, and I want to be able to look her in the eye and say that I have this fabulous opportunity.”

  “That makes a little bit of sense. If you don’t go too far down the path. Am I supposed to call her Mrs. Fisher or Honey or the Evil One?”

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is not to refer to her as Honey Boo — ”

  “Don’t! You’ll get it stuck in my head. You know I’m a blurter. Why do you want me there?”

  “More as a witness than anything else.”

  “What? Are you going to sue the woman?”

  “No. I just want to be sure I’m not crazy.”

  “Well, I can’t help you with that, Teagan. We established in the backyard at the Ladner’s house summer of sixth grade that you are bat-crap crazy. Remember?”

  “Don’t start with me, Cara. You want to come or not.”

  “I owe you one. Of course I’ll come.”

  “One?”

  “Okay, maybe more than one. What time, where are we going to meet, and what is the dress code? It’s a work thing. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “In about an hour. She wanted to meet at my place, but I suggested Barbara’s Brownies. I love that place, but I can give it up if I have to.”

  “Why give it up?”

  “If she takes the place over for some reason. She’s good at that. Look at the office. That was my domain, and now she’s trying to be the decision-maker, and it’s messed up the balance of everything. If Honey decides that she loves the place that I bring her and wants to hang out there, I want to make sure it’s a place I can give up without too much emotional trauma. I don’t want to go walking in there looking all scrungy when the boss’s wife is there.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “Fine. I can be there in an hour. Mostly because I’m nosey.”

  “I count on that, you know.”

  “I know. See you then.”

  I ran in and took a quick shower, mostly to get my hair to cooperate. The sides have grown a little bit, and it isn’t as stark looking as it was, but because of the color they put in it, it gets even more compliments than when I first started. If you are going to go extreme, you gotta commit.

  Last night I woke up at about three and couldn’t get back to sleep. One of the things that kept bouncing around in my head is why my new hair and clothes are such a big deal to me. A haircut doesn’t change your world. Clothes are fun, but they don’t make a person.

  Maybe it’s just an outward manifestation of the changes internally.

  Maybe I’m making too big of a deal about it.

  Maybe I’ve lost my mind.

  All are possibilities.

  I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans, pulled on a deep-teal-colored cami and a floaty, sheer hi-low sleeveless blouse that has little flowers on it. I saw a girl walking down the street in Old Town wearing the same thing and saw it in the boutique across the street from the deli when I was picking up lunch for A.J. and Suzi the other day. I went in expecting it to cost a small fortune, but it was only twelve dollars. I bought the flowered one and a black-and-white one, just as sheer but with a really bold geometric pattern.

  I slipped on some teal flats and went to work on my face.

  I’ve got it down.

  Moisturizer, then primer, then two squirts of foundation on my fingers. I know it’s wasteful, but if I smoosh the foundation all over my fingers and slap it on my face really quick, it always turns out much better. I end up washing most of the foundation off my hands, but it’s worth it to get the right amount on my face. I’m sure Teagan knows how to do it a better way, but I keep forgetting to ask her how.

  Highlighter eye shadow under the brow bone. Blush on the cheekbone and up into the hairline — all the places a normal person would put bronzer — charcoal pencil liner on the bottom of the eyes, quick run of mascara, and a little gloss, and I’m ready for my close-up.

  I grabbed some chunky silver hoops and stuck them in my ears while I walked around the apartment making sure that the windows were locked.

  A new habit I’m not really proud of.

  Grabbed my purse, set the alarm, and headed for my car.

  You ever get that creeped out feeling that someone is watching you? I had that feeling as soon as I walked out of the breezeway. I hadn’t even made it to the parking lot.

  I jumped in my car, locked the doors, and started the engine.

  I took my phone out and set it up so that Roland, the security guy, was one button-push away.

  I’m not saying I’m paranoid or anything, but I now have nine-one-one one button-push away. I know it isn’t a really big time-saver, but what if you hit the wrong buttons? I’m just sayin’.

  I stuck my blue tooth thingy in my ear so that I could talk hands free if I needed to.

  I mentally retraced my steps before leaving the apartment and was confident that I’d set the alarm.

  I drove off expecting ninjas to fall from the sky or black, murdered-out SUVs to plow into me from all directions.

  Nothing happened.

  I never saw anybody, and nobody imposed themselves on my reality.

  I must be losing it.

  By the time I got to the brownie place I had stopped shaking and was calm. At least on the outside.

  Teagan was sitting in a booth with her back to me. I’m never late, so they must have been really early.

  From Teagan’s description of Mrs. Fisher some time ago, I never would have picked this woman out of the crowd.

  I wasn’t sure if I should walk up or stand there looking stupid until Teagan saw me and motioned me over.

  Fortunately, my staring at the back of her head, concentrating on burning holes with my laser focus, was enough to get the woman’s attention, if not Teagan’s.

  She said something, and Teagan whipped around, smiled, and waved me over.

  “Hi.”

  “Cara, this is Midge. Midge, please meet my sister, Cara.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I took a seat next to Teagan.

  “Midge was just asking me what is going on at work. She works for the accounting firm downstairs. I guess there was an argument in our office loud enough that people were thinking about calling the cops.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “I was telling Teagan that my boss, Azariah — he’s such a nice kid, new to the firm and working his behind off — anyway, Azariah came to me saying that something was going on upstairs. His office is directly underneath Mr. Fisher’s. We learned that just after his first wife, may she rest in peace, passed. He got into the habit of listening to some rather dark music, and he had one of those little speakers that emphasizes the low notes sitting right under his desk. The vibration almost drove Elliot — that was the kid in the office before Azariah took over — it almost drove Elliot mad. He’d snap at us a lot.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I tried to explain that to Mr. Fisher, but at the time, he just wasn’t able to hear it. Sorry. No pun intended. Finally, I snuck in there on a weekend and moved the speaker. He never noticed, and when I talked to Elliot he said it was better.”

  “You’re such a jewel, Teagan. I tell the brothers…” Midge looked at me and explained, “The brothers own our little company. Anyway, I tell the brothers all the time that we should make an effort to steal you away from Fisher. He doesn’t know what he has in you.”

  A woman stood right over my shoulder. “He sure the hell does.”

  “Hello, Honey. Have you met Midge? And this is my sister Cara.”

  “I guess the gang’s all here.”

  I’m not sure that Honey was trying to make a good impression, but if she was, she was failing. She seemed angry. Hostile. Brittle.

  Midge scooted out of the booth. “Sorry. I was
just on my way out. Picking up an order for a big meeting in the conference room.”

  Honey scooted right in where Midge had been. I didn’t even have a chance to acknowledge meeting Midge, she was gone so quickly.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink, Honey?”

  “Teagan, I really don’t think this is going to take that long. I’m here to apologize and ask you to come back to the office.”

  “What’s going on, Honey? Is there a problem?”

  “You might say that. Thanks to you I might be getting divorced.”

  Teagan’s eyes were huge.

  I wanted to say something, but I figured it was Teagan’s place to speak first. It’s her job and her boss’s wife, and I’ll stay out of it as long as humanly possible. If Honey doesn’t try to draw blood, we’re good. If she tries, well, you don’t mess with an O’Flynn in front of another O’Flynn and expect not to get a reaction.

  Teagan sounded very calm. “I’m sorry, Honey. I don’t understand how I could possibly be responsible for any problems that you and Mr. Fisher might have in your marriage and certainly not to the extent that anyone would want a divorce.”

  “Like I said before, Teagan, you’re a home wrecker.”

  “How in the world am I a home wrecker? I’ve worked for Mr. Fisher forever. Never has there been a hint of anything inappropriate.”

  “That’s exactly what he said.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, when I explained to him how important it is for you to have the freedom to follow your Jessie around, he told me to mind my own business and stay out of it.”

  “Sounds like solid advice.” Okay, so I didn’t stay quiet for as long as I should have.

  Honey gave me a dirty look.

  “So tell me this, Teagan, if you and my husband have a completely innocent relationship, why is it that he told me that if he had to choose between you and me, he would choose you? Why would a man choose a glorified secretary over his wife if there wasn’t a lot more to the story?”

  I was ready to pounce, but Teagan pinched me under the table. Hard.