The Negotiator

by Chris Taylor

  He hated the taste of the lie on his lips, but if it meant leaving her feeling better about herself and the breakup, he was willing to do that. Besides, it wasn’t entirely untrue. There were plenty of nights when he’d wake in a lather of sweat, the sheets twisted tightly around his waist, the sound of gunfire echoing in his head.

  He closed his eyes briefly against the surge of memories and then looked back at Nikki. Her bottom lip quivered. The cab passed beneath a streetlight and he caught the shimmer of tears. His heart sank. This was exactly the scene he’d hoped to avoid.

  “I wish you’d give me the chance to help you—”

  “No.” His voice was firm. “I’m sorry. It’s not you; it’s me.” Wincing inwardly at the lame line, he added gently, “It’s something I have to work through on my own. Please understand.”

  The tears disappeared. “I’ve given you twelve months of my life, Andy. This is the way you repay me?”

  He had no words that would soften the blow, so he chose to remain silent. She was entitled to her anger. It wasn’t her fault that he was damaged.

  After a moment, she huffed and turned to stare out the window, her jaw set. He felt badly about hurting her, but he’d made the right decision. He was twenty-eight. She looked like thirty-something had already knocked on her door. At their age, dating took on a whole different perspective. It was no longer a casual way to pass the time. People their age were looking for life partners.

  The taxi slowed and came to a stop at the curb outside Nikki’s house. The three-story terrace was dark except for a soft yellow glow from the light on the front porch. Releasing his seatbelt, Andy leaned forward and asked the driver to wait. The air seemed heavy with suspense and all of a sudden, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Nikki clutched her black evening bag to her chest and studied him with sad eyes that were still tinged with anger. He bit his lip and hugged her clumsily, depressed that a twelve-month relationship had come to this—a brief, awkward embrace that felt like they were strangers.

  He was the first to pull away. “I’ll call you.”

  She sniffed, close to tears. They both knew he was lying.

  “You’re going to make some lucky woman a wonderful husband one day.”

  “You too, Nikki. A-a wonderful wife, I mean,” he stammered and cursed beneath his breath. Heat flooded his face.

  She gave him tight smile and turned away. Fumbling with the door handle, she climbed out of the taxi and hurried up the short flight of steps to her front door. She didn’t look back.

  Andy slumped against the seat, relieved that it was over.

  The driver pulled away from the curb and flicked Andy a glance through the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

  “Campbell Parade, Bondi.”

  They traveled along the near-empty backstreets in silence. It was going on for midnight. A deep weariness invaded Andy’s bones. Switching his attention to the road in front of them, he caught the driver’s curious gaze.

  “Girl trouble?”

  Andy kept his gaze fixed on the back of the man’s gray, closely cropped hair and remained silent. He so didn’t need this conversation.

  “They’re worth it in the end.”

  A streetlight gave him a sideways view of the driver’s grizzled face and white-stubbled chin. Knowing to continue to ignore the man would be rude, he sighed. “I take it you’re speaking from experience?”

  “Forty years this November.” The gravelly voice was laced with pride. “Four kids, ten grandkids and a wife I still look forward to coming home to.”

  “Congratulations.”

  The driver made eye contact again. “I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation with your lady friend. You’ve been together twelve months?”

  Andy leaned back in his seat in an effort to get more comfortable, not knowing why he suddenly felt the urge to talk after all. He guessed it had something to do with the anonymity of the situation. Whatever it was, his tongue abruptly appeared to be free.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ve been going out with that lady for that long and you’re only now working out she’s not right for you? What’s wrong with you, lad?”

  Andy frowned and tried not to take offense. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?”

  The driver sighed dramatically. He took his hands off the wheel and threw them up in the air, shaking his head at the same time.

  “Listen, lad. Working out whether you’re with the right one or not should never take you twelve months. You’ve obviously been with lots of wrong ones if you haven’t worked that out.” The man chuckled. His shoulders shook with mirth.

  Spying Andy’s sober face in the mirror, his laughter gradually subsided. “When you meet the right one, lad, you know the minute you set eyes on her. I don’t know why, but that’s the way it is. Simple as that.”

  Andy remained silent, trying to process the words of wisdom offered by the old man in front of him.

  Could it really be that simple? If that were true, how come so many people got it wrong? The divorce rate climbed higher every year and men and women had been getting together since Adam and Eve. Surely, knowing when you met the “right one” couldn’t be that easy?

  “I can see from the look on your face that you don’t believe me,” the driver said, offering him a wry grin.

  Andy shrugged, not knowing what to say. The man was entitled to his opinion. Besides, he had at least thirty years on Andy. It would be disrespectful to argue.

  “Whereabouts on Campbell Parade?” The driver’s query interrupted his thoughts.

  Turning his attention to the window, Andy recognized the familiar buildings and shopfronts that lined Bondi Beach. As they came over the rise, the dark mass of the Pacific Ocean spread out before them. The ships he’d spied earlier were now indistinct shadows silhouetted against the slightly lighter dimness of the sky, illumined by a round, golden moon.

  “Take a right onto Campbell Parade. I’m about halfway up the hill.”

  The traffic was heavier in Bondi, even though the hour was late. Popular with locals and tourists alike, the streets were still alive with crowds, despite the fact it was a weeknight. The cab turned into Campbell Parade and began the climb.

  “Next one on the right.” Andy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. As the taxi came to a stop outside his building, he leaned forward and handed the driver a fifty-dollar bill. “Thanks for the ride, mate. You have a good night.”

  Andy opened the door and climbed out. The driver called out behind him. “Hey, don’t forget your change.”

  Andy leaned in through the man’s open window. “Keep it.”

  The driver shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “Thanks…for the ride.” Smiling, Andy stepped back and watched the taxi drive away. For some inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt as light as the balmy summer air around him. Recognizing the unfamiliar feeling as hope, he drew in a deep breath and let the warmth of it seep into his veins.

  He pulled his house keys from the pocket of his suit pants and let himself into his condominium complex.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She was being followed. She was sure of it… Well, pretty sure. Cally Savage took another peek in her rearview mirror. Earlier in the week, as she’d reversed out of her driveway, she’d had a weird feeling she was being watched. Coupled with the recent break-in at her house, she was as jittery as a criminal awaiting sentencing. A fresh bout of fear and nervousness surged through her.

  The dark-blue sedan traveling two cars behind hers looked exactly like the one she’d noticed a few days ago parked across the street from the house she shared with her son, Jack. Hot afternoon sun blazed through the windscreen of her old Toyota, making it almost impossible to see the road in front of her, but her view from behind was crystal clear.

  Not being a car person, she couldn’t tell exactly what make it was, but it was an average-sized sedan. She caught a glimpse of the familiar, silver-color
ed badge on the hood of the car as it changed lanes and pulled in behind another vehicle. Some kind of Toyota.

  “Damn.” She was too late to note the license plate. Jack leaned forward from the back seat.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?”

  She forced a smile and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Nothing, darling. I…ah, I just remembered I left the third grade reading journals at school. I meant to bring them home with me to mark tonight.” The lie fell quickly from her lips and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he seemed to accept her explanation without further comment and settled back against his seat. Returning her gaze to the mirror, she scoured the mass of cars around her, hoping to spot the blue Toyota again.

  “What’s that noise?”

  Cally frowned and forced herself to pay attention. She suddenly realized the car was steering funny and there was an awful noise coming from right beneath her feet. Lifting her foot off the accelerator, she carefully maneuvered her way over to the shoulder of the road and brought the car to a halt.

  “Stay here, okay, Jack? This is a very busy road and I need to know where you are.”

  He rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement. Opening the door, she stepped out onto the hot asphalt and turned to check her vehicle. She stared in dismay at the flat tire.

  Shit. She mentally went through her options and groaned. A flat tire was the last thing she needed. She felt a headache coming on behind her eyes. Jack poked his head out of the open back window.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?”

  “Only a flat tire, sweetheart. Nothing major.” She forced a smile.

  He grinned. “Cool! Wait ’til I tell the boys at school.”

  She smiled, glad one of them at least would get some pleasure from this. All she could think about was how she was going to find the money to repair it.

  Jack looked down at the now wholly deflated tire. “Are you going to change it?”

  She laughed without humor. “Oh, honey, I wish I could. I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about changing it.”

  He frowned and she hurried to reassure him. “No need to worry. Lucky for us, we have roadside assistance. I’m going to call and see if they can come and get us back on the road.”

  “But, we haven’t got a phone.”

  Cally winced and pulled open his door. “That may be so, my lad, but I happen to know there’s a phone booth right up the road. Come on, we’re going to have to walk.”

  With a groan, he slid across the seat and climbed out. She collected her handbag from the floor of her car and slung it over her shoulder. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, she locked the car and began to walk with him in the direction of the booth.

  Ten minutes later, sweat beaded across her forehead and upper lip. Her blouse was stuck to her skin and Jack complained with every other step. As they reached the phone booth, she opened her handbag and riffled through the cards in her wallet until she found the one she was looking for. She sent up a silent prayer of gratitude that she’d renewed her roadside assistance membership.

  It had fallen due a couple of months earlier and she’d spent a few restless nights tossing up whether or not she could afford it. She was glad now she’d erred on the side of caution. Her little Corolla was nearly twenty years old and, sadly, had seen better days. And of course, there was the other factor: There was no one she could call if she was in distress.

  As the heavy Friday afternoon traffic roared by them, she found some change in her purse and dialed the number that was listed on the back of the membership card. With her ear pressed tightly against the phone, she waited on hold for what seemed like forever.

  A friendly voice finally answered. After taking her details, the operator advised her it could be a while before someone got there. Cally swallowed a sigh and did her best to remain positive.

  “When you say it could be a while, how long are you talking, exactly?”

  “I can’t really say. We’ve had a higher-than-normal number of calls this afternoon. We’ll get someone there as soon as we can.”

  Dismay surged through her. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers to alleviate the persistent ache that now intensified.

  “Okay, well I’d really appreciate your help as soon as possible. It must be at least a hundred degrees out here.”

  “Of course, Ms Savage. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  Cally gritted her teeth. “No, there’s nothing else.”

  Hanging up the receiver, she rested her forehead on the slightly cooler metal of the phone booth and closed her eyes on a heavy sigh.

  “What’s happening, Mom? Are they going to come and fix it? When are they going to get here?”

  Forcing her eyes open, she lifted her head and looked down at her son. Impatience clouded his features. His thick blond hair, woefully in need of a haircut, partially obscured his deep brown eyes.

  His father’s eyes.

  Her heart clenched every time she noticed them. The shape, the color, even some of the expressions she’d catch in them reminded her of Stewart. Jack had inherited her cheerful personality but the only physical trait he’d inherited from her was his hair color.

  Emotionally, he was more like her than she cared to admit. She worried his honest and trusting nature would make him vulnerable to people who would take advantage of him. She knew only too well how easy it was for that to happen—and how dire the consequences could be.

  Pushing the gloomy thoughts away, she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “They’ll be here as soon as they can, sweetheart.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I guess I could always do my homework while we wait.”

  She laughed in surprise. “Really? Since when have you been so keen to do your homework?”

  “Nah, just kidding. Besides, it’s Friday. We don’t get homework on Friday.”

  Smiling at the cheeky look on his face, she sent up a silent prayer that God would watch over her little boy and keep him safe. He was all she had and he was more precious to her than all the money in the world. Not that a little bit more cash wouldn’t be appreciated. Especially in times like this. She had no idea how much it would cost to repair the tire, but nothing to do with cars ever came cheap. The cost of gas alone put a healthy dent in her weekly budget.

  With a tight smile, she slung her arm over Jack’s shoulder and they made their way back to the car. It was parked where they’d left it. Wiping the perspiration off her forehead and neck, Cally climbed in the front. Jack took his customary seat in the back.

  The temperature inside was only marginally cooler than outside, but at least it provided shelter from the broiling sun and the pungent smell of exhaust fumes. Besides, she’d rather be within the safety of the car if the blue Toyota happened to come back past.

  “Wind down the windows, honey. It’ll cool things down a bit.”

  Jack leaned forward to do her bidding and she attended to the windows in the front. Her budget hadn’t stretched to a car with air conditioning and they were used to driving in the February heat with the windows down—which worked all right when the car was in motion. Now, halted on the side of the road with the heat rising off the asphalt in almost palpable waves, conditions were less than ideal.

  “To say the least,” she murmured.

  “What did you say, Mom?”

  “Oh, honey, I was talking to myself. It’s pretty hot, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Too bad we haven’t got a pool. Jimmy Baker has a pool. Did you know he can swim ten laps of the big pool without stopping?”

  “Really? That’s pretty good. He must get lots of practice.”

  “Yeah, he goes to the pool in North Sydney for swimming lessons. Can I get swimming lessons, Mom? It’d be great if I could swim ten laps, too. Then Jimmy and I could have races. That really would be cool, wouldn’t it?”

  Cally concentrated on holding her smile, hoping her much-too-observant son wouldn’t notice the bleakness in her eyes. Even w
orking two jobs, the money she earned barely stretched to cover the weekly commitments. By the time the car payment, the house payment, the phone, electricity and grocery bills were taken care of, there was never very much left over for anything else. For things like haircuts, new tires, cell phones, swimming lessons.

  It was so different from the childhood she’d had. There’d been more than enough money for anything she wanted. All she’d had to do was ask. She’d been petted and pampered and loved—probably even spoiled. She’d never known what it was like to do without or to have to leave something on the shelf because she couldn’t afford to buy it.

  But then she’d fallen pregnant right after her sixteenth birthday and life as she’d known it had ended…

  She fought against the familiar pain and squared her shoulders. That was then. She’d managed to make a life for herself and her son. Everything was fine. Everything was great.

  She sighed heavily. Yeah, right.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  Blinking back the memories, Cally peered at Jack through the rearview mirror. The concern clouding his eyes nearly broke her heart. “Of course, honey. I… It’s just the heat. I-I’m fine.”

  “You look so sad.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced a smile. “Sometimes grown-ups feel a little sad, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. I guess I’m thinking about the flat tire and how much it’s going to cost to repair.”

  “Do we have enough money to fix it?”

  “Honey, you don’t have to worry about things like that. That’s what Moms are for.”

  “But—”

  “Jack, please don’t worry about it. Besides, ever since I started that new cleaning job, we have heaps of extra money,” she lied.

  His face brightened. “Really? So I can get swimming lessons?”

  She bit back a groan of desperation. The smile stretched tight on her face. “Of course. Why not?”

  “Cool! You’re the best.” He grinned at her, his face alight with excitement.

  She bit down hard on her lip to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. She’d find the money somewhere. She just needed to get a bit more creative with their finances. If she took in someone else to help pay the bills that would be a bonus.