Time and Space

by Rachel Robinson

  Tossing another throw pillow off my couch and into the same chair, I say, “I don’t need advice. Women are a species better left to go wild and unexplored. Let them have their mystery. I just want to hang out with you. My coding takes up so much of my time that I forget to eat, let alone have fucking friendships.” I don’t count the dozen or so times per day I speak with Molly as friendship. Nor are the guys from RC counted as real friends. They are employees of my privately funded company. By privately funded I mean that my bank account rolls everything at Ridge Contracting. Within the next month or so it will be successfully independent and turning revenue.

  I hear Steve stirring a drink and then he smacks his lips after the first sip. Maverick sits in one of my new chairs, tossing a smaller pillow in the air. It’s now that I realize there are far too many pillows in this room. They must go. “I need you to teach me how to do that techy shit. Morg would love it if I could stay at home more with her and the kid,” Steve says. He tosses his head back and forth as if considering something. “Nah, never mind, I don’t have the patience, but maybe you should take some time off from it? Make time for other stuff?”

  “Do you have any idea how valuable this is?” I ask, tapping the side of my head with one finger. It’s ridiculous how much money you can make if you’re code inclined. I can develop software from nothing. I can formulate codes that program computers to diagnose blood tests. I can write apps and improve upon others’ mistakes. The skill I possess is invaluable. As long as the world is run by computers, I’ll maintain my wealth.

  “How’s the other job going?” Mav asks. For a second I think he’s referring to a particular job. V. Then I remember he has no clue about the peculiar deal Dax and I made. He’s just curious about RC.

  I sigh, take a sip of the honeyed liquid, and say, “It’s great. Taking out bad guys one at a time. You know all about that, though.” They both laugh. Steve joins me on my new overpriced sofa and puts his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Your life is like a fucking dream, Cody Ridge,” Steve says. Is that how other people view me? It’s news to me. It’s more like a nightmare with dream like sections.

  I smile. It’s weak. “I don’t have everything.” I don’t have her. I don’t have my lost years back. I will have peace soon enough, though. My pulse picks up its pace when I think about his death. The twisted part of my persona loves thinking about it. The average Joe that just wants his girl and a happily ever after cringes. One day I’ll be able to reconcile the two. “I miss the teams and you guys.”

  Steve grabs high on my leg with a big hand. “If you wanted to make out all you had to do was ask. I missed you too, baby,” Steve says in a singsong girl’s voice. Maverick laughs.

  “You know what I mean,” I reply, swigging the rest of my drink and putting my cup down on a coaster. Pushing Steve’s hand off my leg, I punch his thigh. “You’re so busy with Morg and the kid that you have no clue about the outside world. Does she let you take your balls out of the glass jar when you leave the house?” I ask.

  Maverick chimes in, “No. She keeps them on the top shelf of their kitchen. I’ve seen them.”

  “Fuck you!” Steve says. “She does things with my balls that should be in the record books. My big ass balls are right here between my legs. If they were in the kitchen they’d be covered with chocolate frosting getting tongued.”

  “Fucking sick, dude,” I say, wrinkling my nose. Kitchen play has never been my thing. “I’m sorry I brought it up. What about you?” I say, raising my chin in Maverick’s direction. “You have like a million spawn running around. Does Windsor even leave your bedroom?”

  Maverick stands up, stretches his hands over his head, and lets them fall by his sides. His face morphs into one of complete and utter happiness. “Windsor,” he says. It’s a prayer, a name said just because he likes the sound as it rolls off his tongue. “I’ll never get enough of that woman. Just two kids, not a million. If I had it my way, though? She’d be barefoot and pregnant for the rest of our lives. Maybe even when we’re old and gray.”

  “Jesus, that’s even more repulsive than chocolate frosting. Is this what happens when you get married? You lose your minds and your ability to determine what’s hot and what’s not? You guys are getting up in the years.” I throw a pillow at Mav to wipe the weird ass smirk off it. He tosses it back, laughing.

  “Only if you’re lucky, bro. Only if you’re lucky,” Maverick says. His expression softens and his smile vanishes. “Are you going to their wedding?”

  I swallow. Steve shifts beside me on the couch. “Question of the hour. Dax is a good guy, yeah?” I ask. Knowing what they’ll say, I only say the words to buy myself time. I don’t want to talk about her. It makes me upset and with a few drinks in me, I’m half in the mind to call her and tell her exactly why she shouldn’t marry the asshole. “He has to be if she’s with him,” I say, mostly for my own benefit.

  “He’s a good guy.” They both say it at the same time. I wonder how good of a guy they would think he is if they knew what I know. How low he slipped to get what he wants.

  I nod, lean my head back on this deliciously comfortable sofa, and close my eyes. “Some things just aren’t meant to be. I think she’ll be happy. Have a normal life. Our engagement ended on weird fucking terms. Dax is normal and I think that’s what she needs to stay out of trouble,” I explain. I stop before I say anything further. They have no idea that Lainey came to Virginia Beach in order to spy on Navy SEALs. There are countless women here for that exact reason. The guys are familiar with the tactics, but I don’t think they’ve ever seen one up close and personal. They wouldn’t take too kindly if they did know, either. In the beginning, Lainey gathered information about us. When we started work, where we took our training trips, where our private airport was located. All innocuous things that meant a great deal to the person she reported back to. I called her out right away, but I was keen with things like that. The house next door to Morganna? It was planned. Her friendships with the other wives and girlfriends? A scheme to get in good with them to get even more information about us.

  She stopped spying when I asked her, straight up, and despite her reservations, she fell in love with me. Not that she had much say in that. When I fall in love, I make sure everyone around me knows it. She knew it and was helpless to repel my charms. By the time my fateful deployment rolled around she was putty in my hands, so in love with me that she agreed to be my wife. Slipping that diamond on her slim finger was one of the most memorable moments of my life. Now, I’m invited to watch another man marry my woman. That man happens to be the only reason why it’s not my wedding ring going on her finger. Talk about a fucked up situation.

  Steve sighs. “I can’t say anything about what the fuck you guys have going on, but Dax is a good guy and Lainey seems hell-bent on marrying him. Are you two still fucking around?” So they know about the fucked up arrangement we had going on for a while. Who told them?

  “No. I broke it off a while ago. It was too much trouble. How did you know about that anyways? Doesn’t seem like something a man would brag about. Sharing isn’t caring in this instance.”

  “Pussy,” Maverick says, coughing to cover his insult. Then he says, “It was mentioned in passing. Trust me, I think Dax was drunk off tequila when it was revealed.”

  I wrap my hands behind my head and look up at the expansive ceiling. There’s a peak in this room and the glass windows at the top make the lighting in here perfection. “I did what was best for her, dude. My life is too dangerous. Like yours, except I don’t have to answer to anyone, so shit is even more fucked up. The last thing I want is anyone hurt on my account.” They’re both nodding when I glance at them. At least they get it. “Imagine if it were Windsor or Morganna at risk,” I say, looking at both of them to drive the point home. No one says anything. They’re lost in thought, thinking of worst-case scenarios and how to stop them.

  Steve speaks first, “Well, I’d say let’s hit the strip club and g
et some drinks, but we don’t do that anymore.”

  My turn. “Pussies.” I smirk.

  They laugh, but wouldn’t you know, those pansy asses don’t refute me. They’re happily pussies. I want to be the same. One day, maybe. When V is cold in the ground, when I’m finished with working contracts. Maybe I will move to the Hamptons house and settle down eventually. Vacation year-round never hurt anyone.

  I tell them about Rosy and how the date went all to hell. They explain what they would do if they were me and I listen. I even pretend I’ll take their advice and call her as soon as I’m back in the city. I won’t, though. I cancelled the second date and haven’t spoken to her since. Try as I might, I can’t bring myself to fuck anyone else yet. What if it feels different? Worse, what if I’ll compare women to Lainey for the rest of my life? I have nothing but love for Lainey, but now I realize I might hate her, too.

  “We have Dax’s bachelor party this weekend in the city. Can we stay at your palace by the sea?” Steve asks. He’s back at the bar, rummaging through my mixers.

  “What? Like together? Have a romantic weekend together?” I ask jokingly. Maverick gets up and checks his phone. His screen saver is a picture of his wife, Windsor, and their kids sitting on her lap. The kids have his smile and Windsor, in all of her brunette glory, is stunning. I can’t blame him. If she were mine, I’d want her all the time, too.

  Steve punches my arm without spilling his new drink—a Manhattan. “No. We’ll bring the families. Of course. Morg will love that place. I saw photos online when you bought it. Wasn’t the seller dude a Sheik or something? Did you sell code formulated out of your left nut for it?”

  “I think he was part hostage negotiator. He didn’t budge on the asking price at all. Happily for him, I wanted it badly enough. So, like go to the bars and then head home to them at the end of the night?” What is this madness?

  “Exactly,” Maverick says, smiling like a fool. “I like to have my cake and eat it out, too.”

  “God, you’re so fucking witty,” Steve mutters. “What do you think?”

  I nod. “Sure, sure, of course. You know I don’t mind at all. I’ll give you the codes and the keys before you leave. I’ll let security know you’ll be there. I have them patrol every so often to keep it on the up and up.”

  “So teenaged rat bastards don’t throw eggs at your ten-thousand-dollar door?” Steve asks, cackling loudly at his own joke. It’s also a joke that his wife, Morganna, made almost verbatim.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Molly. “Exactly,” I tell him, lying, before answering the call. I hold my finger up to let them know I’ll be quick and head for my office. They’re wrapped up in a conversation about pop culture and how kids don’t have respect for their elders anymore.

  I close the thick wooden door. “What’s up, Molly?” This office reminds me of Dax and his bloody nose. Redecorating needs to go on my to-do list. Lainey will have to help me with that. Oh, shucks.

  Molly prattles on about how she wants Horse to have time off so they can go on vacation. It’s what she starts her conversation with, so I know she wants me to remember it. I tell her most important first and the rest can come next.

  She surprises me, though. “The guys say they’re ready when you are for operation cooler shark.” I obviously did not give this moniker to the operation that will kill V. I approved it, though. Sounds like the Is are dotted and the Ts are crossed.

  “Why didn’t you say that first?”

  “Because, well, you have enough on your mind and cooler shark needs to be done before I can take a vacation with Horse, anyways. One in the same, really.”

  “When are they thinking?” Even if they say they’re waiting on me I know the timeline is already in place. Professionals are always professionals. Time is precious and the most integral part of a successful mission. A minute the wrong way is enough time to destroy all chances of success. It may even mean your life taken instead of the bad guys’.

  “Sunday.” My heart skips a beat. It’s soon. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I hear the drips of stale water in the back of my mind. I don’t count them anymore. They’re always there waiting, though—background noise that reminds me of what I’ve become and what I’ll never be again.

  Molly confirms that everything is scheduled, set up, and ready to go. I won’t be able to sleep until this is over and done with. I hang up the phone, but I’m not ready to face the guys again. I stand in the center of my office and contemplate everything that has brought me to this moment. The cost was high. Love. I think about putting my lips against Lainey’s, how warm and comforting it was. She leaned into me, pressing her body against mine in a way that told me she still wanted me. She despises me for everything I am, but she still wants my body. Can I use that to my benefit?

  Maverick raps on my office door a few times and then saunters in, a water bottle in his hand and one of my small remotes in the other. “Office windows?” he asks, then hits the button that opens the shades automatically. “Yahtzi!” he shouts.

  “Good thing I’m not on the phone anymore,” I say.

  He clears his throat. “I heard you hang up. I wanted to tell you that I know this must be rough for you. Seeing Lainey marry another man. Telling you that means nothing, I know that. I think you’re doing the right thing, honestly. Letting her go, that is. So I’m here to give you the best advice I can think of. Well, it’s not my advice, it’s Stone’s. Tighten your towel, Cody. You got this.” Maverick slaps me on the shoulder, presses his lips together, and nods his head. I nod. Emotion is so thick in the room right now you can cut it with the side of a dull fork—Maverick, remembering Stone, his dead best friend, and me realizing he’s right.

  “Put on my big girl panties and all that?” I ask, smiling, trying to take the edge off.

  Maverick runs his hand through his hair. “Something like that, man.” He punches me in the arm, takes a sip of water, and disappears from my office. If he knew I was also contemplating a high profile murder alongside my obsession with Lainey, I’m sure he would have chosen different words.

  Words. I owe some to Lainey. I email her at her old, personal address because it’s safest.

  From: Cridge@ridgecontract.com

  To: LaineyRostov@Memail.com

  Subject: Repaying debts

  I’m sorry for things I did say. I realize now that I should have gone about breaking things off differently. My words weren’t gentle, nor did they hold much truth. They were words I knew would send you away without looking back. I still think that’s what you need to do, but I can’t stand for another second to pass where you think I don’t want you, that you’re not the love of my life. I’m changing my words to better represent my heart. Marry him because he’s the better choice for you. Marry him because you love him and he loved you when I couldn’t. Spend your life making him as happy as you’ve made me. That’s what would have happened if I never returned and that’s an honest life. I’m okay with this now, Lainey. I mean, I’ll never be truly okay because I can’t lie next to you in bed at night, or see you round with my child, or know what your laugh lines look like twenty years from now. These are the privileges Dax has earned in my absence. I’m grateful to him, Fast Lane. You should be too. Surely you know I don’t think this message will fix anything. My words were unforgivable. Hopefully they’ll help you move on with a sense of pride and love for our years, and not the horrendous lies I asked you to believe. Don’t let them mar what we had just as the joy we did share shouldn’t overshadow the memories you’ll surely make in the future with Dax. Let them exist in the same space if you ever find it in your heart to forgive me.

  The café is yours. I’ll stay away. Lettuce isn’t one of my favorites, so I trust it’s hard to find decent lettuce in such a voraciously foodie city. There’s another one two blocks down I can frequent instead.

  Forgive me. I’m not sure if I can watch you walk down the aisle to marry another man. I’m a lot of things, but a masochist isn’t one of
them. Also, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut at the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ bit. While I’ve said multiple times I think you should marry him, my illogical side isn’t as keen on the idea. You don’t want me there anyways. I’d only be a ghost from your past haunting a happy day.

  (Remember that) Time, and (here is your) Space,

  Cody

  I hit send and return to the guys in the living room. My overall demeanor is morose, so they try to fix it with bourbon and stories from the old days. Maverick even starts singing a song he wrote for Windsor. As if I needed a reminder of how desperately beautiful lasting love is.

  I hate that shit.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lainey

  “The dress is too tight, the heels are too high, and my makeup is too dark,” I say, staring at the foreign creature in the mirror in front of me. “And the wig…really?” We’re getting ready at Chloe’s mom’s house. She lives on the outskirts of Manhattan.

  Chloe scoffs. “Fuck no, it’s not. You look perfect. This is the last hurrah as a single lady. You’re doing it right, Lainey.” Coming up behind me, she rubs her hands down my sides, smoothing the bandage dress over my hips sinfully. I admit that the dress is hot, the heels are to die for and the forty dollars’ worth of makeup on my face does highlight my light eyes and high cheekbones, but it doesn’t look a thing like me. Maybe that’s the point. Disguise myself. The brunette wig falls in waves down my back like a high-class stripper. I move from one foot to the other, trying to see how steady I can be in these shoes. I roll up a pair of nude flats and stuff them in my small handbag. Emergency shoes seem like a good idea tonight. I come fully prepared for anything.

  “Shouldn’t I be at least a little comfortable? God knows what you have planned,” I reply, wincing when I see her open another bag of penis straws in the reflection of the mirror. “None of this was necessary. This is for twenty-year-olds on their first engagement, who still have the party gene from college. Not for me. This isn’t for me.” I itch my head where the wig meets my true hairline. “Can’t we just grab a couple of drinks and call it a night?” No one can stop Chloe. I’ll make my displeasure known on principle.