by Kathryn Shay
“Mmm.”
Once on the street, he spied a coffee shop and went inside.
I’ll have latte. No skim.
There she was again. He’d been successful in banishing her from his mind since they parted because he knew she was upset about his secrets. The anchors on TV had gotten her antenna up about his background, and she didn’t sleep well during the night.
He ordered black coffee and sat down.
The time of reckoning was coming about his family. He needed to tell her in case the press found out. She’d be hurt more if she learned about him that way.
But now, he needed to get to work. He phoned the firm.
“Cook, Cramer and Coldwell.”
“Beverly, it’s Paul.”
“Hello, Paul.” Her usually no-nonsense voice was very friendly. “Everyone’s waiting for you to get here.”
“I tried. I drove by the press in front of the building and I knew I’d be mobbed. I’m at a coffee shop on the corner. Can I speak to Mr. Cook, please?”
Soon, the senior partner came on. “Good morning, Paul. Congratulations on your…efforts Saturday night. We’re all very impressed by your bravery.”
“It was knee jerk reaction, sir. But thanks anyway. I’m stuck at the Central Café because of the crowds in front of the office.”
“We tried to make the press leave, but to no avail.”
“I doubt I can even get through them.”
“Let me call a company we use on occasion. I’ll have somebody there within thirty minutes.”
Huh? Did he mean security?
Paul disconnected and sipped his coffee. And thought about making love with Hayley. He adored her spontaneity and creativity. She was, simply put, a goddess, as he’d called her on the boat that first night.
Matka would love her.
Again, thoughts of his mother shamed him. He’d texted her—for the first time in eighteen years—that he was fine. Nothing more. But since her contact, he longed to see her.
Two men entered the coffee shop. Both big, both dressed in suits. They surveyed the room then strode to him. “Mr. Covington. We’re here to take you to work.”
“Who are you?”
“Patterson and Drake. Body men.”
“Ah, well, I’m ready.”
The mob hadn’t lessened any when they got to the building and when the reporters saw him, they erupted with questions shouted at him. Patterson went first, Drake in back of him. “Excuse us,” Patterson said, weaving through the crowd.
Drake told him, “Stick close.”
“Whatever you say.”
Amidst noise loud enough to hurt his eardrums and microphones sticking in his face, they ploughed through the mass news anchors and camera crews. Once inside, the heavy glass door blocked out the cacophony the press had created, and the two men continued up the elevator with Paul. When they reached the offices, Drake opened the door for him. “We’ll be here all day, Mr. Covington, if you need us again.”
“Thank you very much. I appreciate your efforts.”
The other lawyers and staff had come out of their offices or cubicles, and waited to see him. They clapped when he appeared. Edward approached him. “Come on into the conference room, Paul.” They walked down the corridor side-by-side.
The twenty senior and associate partners gathered around a large, oval table. Many slapped him on the back, murmured complimentary words to him, and then they all sat.
Edward began. “The reason I called us all together is to offer our thanks to you, Paul, but also to discuss how to handle things from here on out.”
“Here on out? In what way?”
“Mostly, what cases you’ll be assigned.”
“I like what I’m doing now.”
Shelby Cromwell, a fifty-year-old woman, married with kids, who had recruited Paul, leaned forward. “I’m thinking we should give you more high-profile clients.”
Something set off his radar. “High-profile in what respect?” The firm defended mostly people accused of white-collar crime.
Edward slid a stack of folders to him. “Look these over. See what appeals to you.”
Paul opened the first file. Health care fraud. Hmm, now that interested him. Two Tribeca doctors were accused of requiring surgery for patients who came to them in order to receive steroid injections. Which was charged to insurance. Then they were allowed to get the injections. But also, the doctors gave them prescriptions for high doses of opioids, also very costly.
“I’ve been wanting to get into these cases. In California, I won several class actions suits against doctors who acted similarly.”
All three major partners exchanged frowns.
“Paul,” Shelby said softly. “We’re representing the doctors.”
Ah, he got it.
He scowled. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this.”
“I think you are, Paul.” Now Shelby seemed more insistent. “Check the rest of them.”
He leafed through the other files. Money-laundering, conspiracy to commit wire fraud, a case of a laboratory fraud by a company who did blood-testing for sexually transmitted diseases.
“Hmm. I’ll have to think about taking these kinds of cases.”
“Why?” John Cramer asked.
“Because I’ve pretty much been on the other side of all of them.”
Shelby straightened her spine, an action he’d come to know meant she was determined to get her way. “Which is exactly why we hired you, Paul. I thought I’d made that clear.”
She hadn’t. Now he had a decision to make.
* * *
Hayley was late getting to work, and the place was already busy. Phones rang and the low rumble of voices carried through the space. Holding a couple of files, Maria Blackburn came out of her office and caught sight of her. “Hayley.” Maria walked right over. Took Hayley’s hand. “I got a call from DA Velasquez. He said you were at the gala Friday night.” People around her hushed at the news of her attendance at the gathering. “Are you all right?”
“Thanks for your concern. But I’m fine. Finn and I were seated at a table when the gunman fired at the ceiling.”
Others gathered around.
A friend of hers, Lola, asked, “You poor thing. Were you terrified.?”
“I was. We scrambled to the floor and I held on to Finn’s hand so hard, his fingers hurt for an hour afterward.”
A secretary shook her head. “I heard some of the wait staff got trampled as others tried to leave when the attacker was disarmed.”
“I heard that, too. I think it’s awful.”
Another ADA asked, “So, Paul Covington was the hero of the night?”
“Yeah. I didn’t see it happen, though.” Except in my imagination until he got to my house.
“Boy,” the man continued, “We’ve disliked him so long, we’ll have to adjust our thinking on anyone who could do that.”
Tactfully, Hayley didn’t comment.
“Was he in the military?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know.” Now that was true. She’d have to ask.
Maria glanced around to see work had stopped. “I’m going to break this up, now. I know you’re all concerned about Hayley and I hope hearing her talk allayed your fears.” To her, Maria said, “Come inside.”
They walked into her office and she closed the door. They took seats behind and in front of her desk. She asked, “Are you sure you’re all right? Not putting up a front for the rest of us?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You can take some time off if you want.”
“No, I don’t need to.” She needed to work.
“So, your nemesis saved the day? He’s a hero.”
“He is. I told you he wasn’t a bad guy.”
Maria leaned back in her chair. “Want to face him again in court?”
Hayley stilled. She could tell Maria no. She and Paul had gotten together or give another excuse that was vague. But something stopped her. The same feeli
ng that descended on her Saturday night returned. She’d better keep the relationship to herself until they were on solid ground.
“You told me we weren’t allowed to argue cases against each other.”
“That’s another reason why Velasquez called. Covington’s cases against us will be high profile for a while. Our best ADA would give us more exposure, and you’re one of the few who’s beaten him.”
“I’d rather not. Can you let someone else take him on?”
Maria cocked her head. “Is something wrong with all this?”
“For the reasons you and his boss already cited after the contempt charge.”
Her gaze narrowed. “How do you know his boss and I talked?”
“I bumped into Paul in the elevator of the courthouse.”
Thoughtful, Maria watched her. Finally, she said, “I’m sure Cook, Cramer and Cromwell are giving him carte blanche now.”
Hayley didn’t know how to get out of this. Pleading too much would be suspicious. “I’ll do whatever DA Velasquez says, of course. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Well, it’s out of my hands.” She stood. “Meanwhile, I’m glad you’re safe. It you get some flashbacks or have bad dreams about what happened, let me know and I’ll arrange for some time off.”
“Thanks, Maria.”
Hayley left the office feeling like everything was spinning out of control. Probably because it was.
* * *
“Ready, Paul?” Mayor Michaels asked as they headed to the steps of City Hall in lower Manhattan. He’d never met the mayor before but now, the man acted like a friend.
“As much as I’ll ever be. This really isn’t nec—”
“None of that.” Michaels increased his speed. “You saved the lives of some very important people.” The underside of what he said was that because Paul prevented mass murder of the elite in New York City, what he’d done was more important than saving the common folk. Since Paul had been the common folk, the notion didn’t sit right with him.
In any case, they reached the steps and he followed the mayor to the podium. Press gathered in front of him. As of today, Friday, he hadn’t talked to anyone in the media. His body men prevented it. But this morning, he had to come out of hiding.
They stepped into the bright sunshine and faced the crowd. Paul slipped on the sunglasses that he’d propped up on is head. Hundreds of people showed up. Hard to believe that. He wondered if Hayley was here. She said on the phone she’d come if she could get away from work.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, members of the press. I’m here today to present The Bronze Medal, the highest civilian award in New York City, to Paul Covington. The medal is given for exceptional citizenship and outstanding achievement.
“Paul’s citizenship surfaced a week ago today, when he threw himself at a gunman who’d entered the Central Park Ballroom. He successfully disarmed the attacker.” The mayor scanned the crowd. “I can see several faces of those whose lives he saved. Two hundred people attended the gala and staff provided service. For their safety, and his, we’re very grateful.”
An aide held out a small square velvet blue box and opened the lid. The mayor took the box and held it up. Cameras clicked and whirred. Then he handed it to Paul, who read the inscription. With the CITY OF NEW YORK engraved on the perimeter, inside the medal read, To Paul Covington, for uncommon valor in preventing a tragedy of epic proportions.
When Paul had been alerted to this award, he went online to see what other people had gotten. He’d been surprised to find not only politicians and civil rights activists as recipients, but also sports heroes, singers, community education reformers and 9/11 heroes.
“Now, we’ll let Mr. Covington answer some questions. He relinquished the podium to Paul. He removed his sunglasses.
“Thank you, Mayor. And thank you to the city of New York.”
The same aide picked up another microphone. “Mr. Caruso, from CNN.”
“Mr. Covington, thank you for your valor. How does it feel to have prevented a slaughter?”
He winced at the word. But his voice stayed even. “It feels great. I’m humbled by what I was able to do. Anyone in my place would have.”
Another reporter from the New York Times was called on. “Were you scared?”
“Only afterward.” He smiled. “I didn’t think about what was happening. I just did it. When the whole thing was over, I practically collapsed when I realized what I’d done.”
A barrage of questions followed. Finally, the mayor took back the mic. “We’ll adjourn now to a small reception so the people who were at the gala can thank Paul personally.”
He didn’t know about the reception, didn’t want it, but he followed the mayor up the steps to City Hall. Paul hoped that Hayley would come to the reception. They’d just reached the door when someone walked out from behind a pillar next to him.
“Witja, syn.”
Paul stopped short. His head snapped to the left. Dear Lord in heaven. Dear God. As if in slow motion, he made his way over to the woman who’d somehow gotten this close to him. She’d changed. Her gray hair was in a bun. Her face was lined. But her eyes were exactly the same, except they were filled with tears. His clouded, too.
“Hello, Matka.”
* * *
Among the invited guests to the reception, Hayley climbed up the steps to the entrance where she caught sight of Paul, off to the side of the doors with an older woman. He hugged her. Tightly. When he stepped back, he kissed both cheeks then took her hand and entered the building.
Shocked at his display of affection, at delaying the mayor’s agenda so abruptly, Hayley wondered who the woman was. She followed the crowd inside, but lost track of Paul. She climbed the spiral staircase in the massive rotunda, amidst priceless pieces of art and arrived on the third floor. She entered the east chamber of the hall. Since the location had three chambers, there was plenty of room for any number of guests. People milled around; they were starting to get restless.
Because Paul was nowhere in sight.
* * *
His mother grasped onto his hand as he led her to a private anteroom. Then he hugged her again. She might look different but she smelled the same. Like lilac talcum powder.
Drawing away, she raised her chin and cupped his cheek. “We will speak in English. I have missed you so much, my son.”
They sat on two chairs separated by a table. Over it, he took her hand again. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m so sorry, Matka.”
“I am, too.”
“You didn’t do anything. Pa kicked me out. And I’m the one who stayed away all this time.”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “I should not have let your father disown you.”
“He had all the power.”
“He did, because I allowed it. That was the way of the time. Now, I have taken power back.”
Paul couldn’t help a smile. “Well, good for you.”
“And he regrets what he did.”
“Does he?” Paul was skeptical of that.
“So stubborn, both of you.”
“No, not any more for me. I’m delighted to see you.”
Aides poked their heads in again, and he’d shooed them away several times. But then the mayor entered the room. “I’m sorry, Paul. But everyone is waiting for you.”
“Matka, would you come out into the reception area and sit at a table? Let me do what I have to do then we’ll go somewhere.”
“I will.”
The two of them walked out into the east chamber. Politeness won out over curiosity, and no one swarmed them. He took his mother to a table and got her seated. A passing waiter handed her a glass of punch. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He hurried to the front of the room. People gathered around immediately. This was going to be a long afternoon. His head swirling with thoughts of his mother, he forced himself to greet the guests.
* * *
Hayley caught sight of t
he woman who’d been with Paul and wended through the crowd to where she sat. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
“No, dear. You may sit.”
She studied the older woman. Beautiful gray hair, lovely face, and…those eyes. Oh, Dear Lord in heaven. They were Paul’s eyes. This had to be his mother. “I’m Hayley Casella.”
Her face lost its warmth. “The one Paul went to jail with.”
“You know about that?”
She leveled her chin. “I read it on the computer.”
“You’re his mother, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“He told me his family lived here.”
For a moment, Paul’s mother didn’t answer. As if she couldn’t. “When did he say that?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “When we were in jail. That whole ordeal must have upset you, Mrs. Covington.”
“My name is not Covington.”
“Oh.” Hayley sipped her drink. She wouldn’t pump his mother. She’d just make small talk. “What kind of boy was he?”
“The second oldest.”
“Of how many?”
“Five.”
“Five children. How nice. I only have two brothers.”
“Are you close to them?”
“Yes, though we don’t see my older one.”
“Why?”
“He left home because of a conflict with my mother over two decades ago. My other brother and I never saw him again.”
The woman frowned. “That is hard.”
“Would you mind telling me about Paul as a child, as a teen?”
Privacy took second place over a mother’s chance to brag. “He was a good baby…in kindergarten, he won every prize they gave out. The rest of his schooling went the same…he was our first to go to prom. He had a steady girlfriend and we liked her. His first tux was white with…”
Hayley listened raptly. She devoured news of the boy the man she cared about used to be. So much so she didn’t notice the crowd thinning. And Paul approach them.
“Hayley, what are you doing?”
She smiled up at Paul. “Your mother was telling me about your childhood. It’s sweet that…”
“Matka, let’s go!”