Bone Frog Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “I am moving on. This is how I move on. By doing something important for someone I care about.”

  “No you’re not.” She sighed, getting ready to give me the lecture I probably deserved. “This is what got you into trouble before. Face the facts. Move on so you can make the clean break. It will continue to cause pain if you even have the possibility of running into him again.”

  “I don’t think that will bother me.”

  “Would you listen to yourself? You must be joking, Shannon. You’re setting yourself up for a huge fall. What happens when he brings his new love into the office, or you see his picture in the society column on the arm of a beautiful heiress or something? You’ll be looking for him everywhere.”

  “Am I that obsessed, still?”

  “Yes! Finally, something smart out of your mouth. It’s unhealthy to hang on.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll speak to Rebecca, communicate to Rhea what I’ve learned, if anything, and then move on.”

  “Unbelievable. You are the most stubborn woman I know, and I know a lot of stubborn women, too! That’s what you said when you went to Boston, ‘just to get a glimpse, have a drink with him.’ That’s what got you into trouble in the first place. Now do you get it?”

  “Thanks for your advice.”

  “Which you’re not going to take.”

  “I can’t. I want to do something good for him, and then I’ll exit the stage and go home.”

  I left her shaking her head, mumbling things loud enough for me to hear as I walked to my car.

  I didn’t pay any attention.

  Rebecca’s syrupy sweet demeanor was as overpowering as her perfume. She was packing, returning back to New York, but agreed to meet with me.

  “All my friends loved the interview, Shannon. I should hire you as my press secretary. Want a job?”

  Of all the things she could offer me, that one made me laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I knew I couldn’t be honest with her. And here I went again, making things up. I probably should look into becoming a private investigator, the way I snuck around, spying under false pretenses.

  I decided to keep it as clean as I could. “Nothing. Just hit me oddly, for some reason.”

  “You have quite an interest in our project here. Would you consider working on it?”

  She was actually serious! That gave me the Segway to ask some of the questions I needed answered.

  “Let me ask you this first, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go right ahead.” She placed a cosmetic bag, bulging with tubes of creams and makeup, on top of her folded clothes, with a towel separating it. She saw me eyeing the towel. “Yes, I steal towels all the time, if they’re good ones.”

  “I—I wasn’t going there. I just noticed it. That’s all. No judgment.”

  She continued packing but was nearly done, so I had to think of something quick.

  “Can I buy you lunch? Or, do you have a plane to catch?”

  She checked her watch. “I have forty minutes before the car comes to take me to the airport. If we can order and finish in forty minutes, I’m all yours.”

  Rebecca made a big point of telling the waitress we were in a hurry and ordered her lunch without using the menu. I just agreed to the same thing to make things easier.

  “What do you want to know? And you’re not recording this, right?”

  “No ma’am.” I thanked the waitress for our waters. “How did you meet Marco?”

  She sat up straighter, her eyebrows rising under her bangs. “At a party in Coronado. A buddy of his was getting married. I knew the bride. The groom was a SEAL. We danced. We drank too much, and the rest is history.”

  “No big romantic date, then? The stars didn’t fall from the sky the night you met?”

  “He was in a mood. He’d just lost someone. He wanted to forget.” Her eyes sparkled with deep dark undertones. “I liked the way he screwed. I was hooked.” She followed it up with a pert smile.

  I knew the feeling well.

  “But in time, you fell in love, right?”

  “I think he did. We got busy. He was all fire, going out to play on those ridiculous missions of his. I loved that he was so happy to see me. I enjoyed it when he was gone. I loved it when he came back.” She smiled again, like she was withholding a secret. “I became indispensable. He has a real blind spot for people he tells himself he cares about.”

  “Tells himself? I’m sure you loved each other.”

  “Oh, I never loved him. I loved being around him. I don’t think I’m capable of love.”

  I must have looked shocked because she continued.

  “The only thing he truly loves is his job, his missions, his brothers. They are an old school of guys who leave a trail of ex-wives and kids behind them. They usually don’t manage their money well. Marco was the exception to that. But still, when it came down to it, he’d rather go do something dangerous, make money for others, than enjoy being a husband, a father.”

  “Is that why you never had kids?”

  “I couldn’t have any. I don’t think he’s the fatherly type.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was raped when I was sixteen, had a complication of a pregnancy I never should have had, and just like that, no babies for me. One of my father’s friends. He should have been charged and sent to prison for what he did to me. I decided that day that I wasn’t going to let any man do that to me again. I made what I could out of it. Hated my father for the rest of my life. It actually became a blessing in disguise because I could do things other girls couldn’t. I express myself through sex. It opened up a whole new world for me, so I grabbed it and ran. I don’t spend any time on regrets. What about you?”

  “It has to mean something for me. I am very guilty of wanting to be alone a lot. My books are my best friends, my boyfriends too.”

  “You’ll have to meet my new manager, Frank. He used to work for Marco. He’s married, but he’s not a bad lay.”

  I was repulsed.

  “Oh! I didn’t steal him away from Marco,” she said, holding up her hand, “if that’s what you’re thinking. I do have some scruples.”

  Except you made him cheat on his wife.

  “He’s not permanent. I’m still looking. And, who knows? This project takes a year or two longer to complete? You never know. Marco might get lonely and come walking back through my door. I’ll take him with welcome arms. We were a great team. I miss all those sweaty nights.”

  I suddenly saw what she was doing. She was never going to let go of him. He had way underestimated her. His only option was to quit the project and be done with her.

  But I knew he couldn’t do that.

  I asked her a few more questions, and we agreed to talk again after she got settled in New York. I told her I’d do a follow-up piece for TMBC later, and she was delighted.

  “Think about what I offered you. I could teach you a lot, Shannon.”

  If she only knew what a sneak and a cheat I had been as well, I think she would have been impressed. But I didn’t want any more of that. The bitter taste in my mouth was hard to get rid of.

  I missed the fresh kisses and whispers. I missed the soft, trusting intimacy we had. I wanted what was real. My heart told me my love for him was real, but I knew I had to carefully bury it. I still loved Emily too and always would. Loving her wasn’t predicated on me being around her every day, or even visiting her grave.

  Just like it would be okay to love Marco still, and never see him again.

  Chapter 21

  Marco

  My meetings in D.C. went well. I got a track on a couple of projects the State Department was orchestrating, selling protective gear for IEDs in several third world countries. I would be the middleman, and because it wasn’t arms, it came under our foreign aid categories and didn’t need Congressional approval.

  My company in Vietnam made these blue “ponchos”. They could stop anything but a .50 caliber roun
d and were very effective for roadside bombs.

  We were also selling these to other contractors, and I was given the lead to a large award I didn’t get because I was indisposed. But I could sell them the goods, and that was almost as good. I knew there were some Chinese firms who were trying to duplicate my product. I was scrambling to move my factory to the Midwest so I could say it was one hundred percent American made. And, I had to be realistic, my designs and fabric would be copied. It was only a matter of time.

  I interviewed a couple of candidates for the CFO position, two in person and one via video conference. Bob had done a great job working with the HR Department, finding candidates. He was also pleased to learn I was headed to India.

  “Rebecca’s attorney has quit. He called me yesterday to tell me he thought things would be quieter.”

  “He can say that?”

  “Professional courtesy. He’s resigning his firm, going into the Peace Corps, if you can believe such a thing. I think he’s lost his taste for blood.”

  “That’s what she does. Uses people and spits them out,” I added.

  Bob was watching me.

  “You look tired, Marco. I think the trip will do you good. The sultan really stepped up to the plate this time for you. You’re the luckiest guy I know.”

  “Spoken by a man who only feels comfortable in three-piece suits.”

  “Okay, I didn’t like that, but it was justified. But I’m bringing this up because you’ve been driving so hard and fighting so long. Time to come home from deployment. At some point in your life, you have to learn to enjoy it.”

  “I do enjoy it. I enjoy the hunt. Exceeding capacity. Winning in court occasionally actually is fun, now. Except for the cost.”

  “I’m not reducing my fees.”

  “Wasn’t asking.”

  “You’re forty-five?”

  “Watch it. Forty-three.”

  “Time to start raising a family, or raising someone else’s family. You know lots of good men who never came back, their wives are good women, Marco. Doing the best they can. Go pick one, get married, and fulfill the dreams of someone else’s you respect. Raise the kids to love their father. And learn to be one. I’m going to personally go out on a limb and say all these things, because after all the wars are over, you know what we have?”

  “Not sure what you’re saying.”

  “We have a country to come home to. Some people don’t have that.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m headed to one soon.”

  “I can’t even imagine what that will be like, taking care of those boys who have been raised in a pink palace. Kids who spend more money on their shoes than some of those people they will be working with earn their whole lifetime. Do you think what they’re doing will make a difference?”

  “Oh, hell yes. They need housing.”

  “If they can keep it privately held. Until some new warlord comes into power and takes everything away or blows it up.”

  “You’ve been reading too much, Bob,” I said as I stood, and shook his hand. “And the answer to your question is it’s just like the graffiti problem.”

  He angled his head and furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”

  “The secret to getting rid of it is to keep painting over it over and over again. They put it up, you take it down. You know when you’re taking it down that they’ll tag it again, but you keep doing it. Someday, they grow up, or move, or go elsewhere, and it starts to change. Some day. We got to keep thinking about someday. The sultan will build these houses, and yes, some of them will get destroyed. But someday someone else will build houses, and then maybe another, and eventually, someday they will be allowed to stand. There will be houses to pass down to their kids and grandkids. And the people won’t live in fear anymore.”

  “God dammit, Marco. You’re a fuckin’ optimist.”

  That was funny. I laughed. I’d never thought that about myself. And then it hit me, I believed in the Happily Ever After, like those books Emily used to read. I knew that someday everything would turn out.

  ‘It will be okay, kid.’

  Chapter 22

  Shannon

  I was rushing to get to makeup in time for my first afternoon report. There was a big storm coming, and people would be tuning in to find out where it was going to land.

  Sandy commented on how tanned I’d been. “You are spending a lotta time outdoors. It’s good for you, Shannon. Your skin is lovely today.”

  “I’ve been watching what I’m eating, and yes, been taking more walks on the beach.”

  “I used to do that when I was younger, too. You get older, and you just don’t do those things any longer.”

  “I plan never to stop.”

  I had started to feel better with each passing hour. Day by day, I found meaning in Marco’s project, I enjoyed the crazy people at the station more, even that bastard Clarence Thompson. We even openly pretend-flirted on the air, since we both knew if he tried anything, he’d get fired, and at his age he was probably unemployable. And I saw him with new eyes. I saw the vacant part of his life. The guy was lonely.

  ‘I guess it takes one to know one.’ My mother used to say that all the time. Emily used to tease me with that when I called her a rat, or a cheater, or when I tried to take the biggest piece of cake. Funny, I had forgotten how much we actually did fight over little things. In the wash that was necessary to heal my heart, what also was lost were those little details. I tended to think of her as perfect, of our childhood as perfect. But she could be a little shit, too. I took it as a good sign, that a lot of things were healing inside me. My internal housekeeping was redecorating, freshening up the curtains, recovering couches and painting the walls a different color.

  I stepped onto the set, adjusted my microphone and squinted at the teleprompter. I hoped that this didn’t mean my eye surgery was failing. I blinked several times, and the letters got clear, and larger.

  “Well now we come to my favorite part of the day. We have Shannon Marr here to tell us what’s coming up along the gulf. You have any fun plans for this weekend?” Clarence asked, winking at me, daring me to say something racy.

  “Just some good beach time, Clarence,” I answered.

  “Oh darn,” he said as he clicked his fingers. With his hand up to his mouth, as an aside to the audience, he whispered, “At my age the only way I get my thrills is by listening to her talk about her boyfriends.”

  Someone had turned the canned laughter off. Clarence looked up above him, as if he’d been suddenly covered with bugs.

  “Hey, I thought that was funny! Oh, well, give us the weather, Shannon.”

  “Thanks so much. Well…” and then I began moving my hands in front of the green screen, watching the monitor to make sure I didn’t worry all our Tampa Bay people by misplacing the eye of the next storm smack on their town, instead of well out in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. I did that once and the newsroom was flooded with panicked calls.

  “And that about wraps it up. Oh, and we have a special programming note I’m supposed to read.”

  The screen went white for a couple of seconds and then letters began appearing. I inhaled and began.

  “Shannon, will you—” I stopped because it wasn’t any special programming message. I heard laughing around the set. Out of the darkness, behind one of the camera operators walked Marco, dressed in a stunning royal blue suit with a red tie, holding a bouquet of red roses. And he was smiling, headed right for me.

  I looked around the stage. Even Clarence was grinning at his podium. Everyone must have been in on it because they kept me live. Marco knelt before me, held out the beautiful diamond ring I’d seen all too briefly the other night, and asked, “Shannon Marr, I’ve been a complete fool. Will you forgive me, and will you agree to be my wife?”

  They didn’t even wait for my answer before the canned cheering and clapping was played. I looked into his face, the handsome face of my one true warrior, the love of my life, the man who wa
s so right for me in too many ways to count.

  And I said yes, even though everyone else was already celebrating.

  Marco slipped the ring on my left hand fourth finger, and it fit perfectly. But of course it did.

  I kissed him, as he stood and properly showed me, live, like a hurricane headed for the Gulf, that he loved me and would never leave me again.

  I touched the sparkling jewel and whispered, “What does all this mean, Marco? What are we going to do with Rebecca?”

  “I’m not marrying Rebecca again. Did that. Didn’t work out so well. And for the record, I’m not asking you to either.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” He winked at me. “Waiting for Rebecca to start playing nice and not being a thorn in my side would be like waiting until there were no more wars overseas before we get married. I don’t have that much time. Even you don’t either.”

  “But doesn’t it bother you?”

  “It has nothing to do with my decision.”

  I don’t want to quit my job. You live in Boston. How is this going to work?”

  “Well, since I won’t be a bachelor, I should probably move out of the Bachelor Towers. I thought maybe you’d be able to put me up at your place until I could get that house built.”

  “House?”

  “The lot on the bluffs? I own it. I want to build a house there. For us.”

  “But what about my bungalow?”

  It took him a couple of seconds. His eyes blinked fast while he thought of something to say. “You always manage to throw curve balls, don’t you?”

  “Well, I was just thinking—”

  He turned to the camera man. “Is this all being recorded?”

  “No, we’re off the air.”

  “Could you turn off the lights, please?” he asked.

  It was dark, with a deep blueish reflection on the equipment, the desks and the metal surfaces of the studio to keep people from tripping.

  Marco cleared his throat. “Let me try this again. Shannon,” he said, his patience being tested to the max, “Would you like to live in your house, or the new one I’ll be building? It would be big enough for your parents to come visit. If we have children, they can each have their own bedroom. But, my dear, if you say no, then we’ll live at your sweet little home. And I’ll pay rent.”