by Laura Leone
"Kevin, I can make it up to you."
"No, you can't. What you did to me the other night can never be taken back or forgiven. And it made me realize what you've done to me for years."
"What I've done? I've paid you well and treated you well!"
"You whored me out, used me, and manipulated me," he said. "I'm really glad I didn't die ten years ago. But I wish to God that anyone but you had found me that night."
"You don't mean that."
"I'm not your boy anymore, Catherine. And I never will be again. The thought of touching you..." He shook his head. "I've fucked plenty of women I didn't like or want, but the thought of ever touching you again actually sickens me."
She gasped. "I can't believe, after everything I've done for you, that you're speaking to me this way."
"I'm not going to do anything about what happened the other night. Derrick's had his revenge, so he won't bother me again if I don't bother him," he said. "And all I want from you is your word that you'll stay completely out of my life. Forever.”
Her eyes glistened. "Kevin."
"I guess you're headed for some trouble with the law, thanks to Trevor."
She blinked hard and took a breath. "Yes."
"I want you to know, I won't talk. Not to the cops or to lawyers, not to the press, not to anyone. I owe you that much. But that's all I owe you."
"I can't believe you're doing this to me."
He said, "I will never touch you again, I will never work for you again, and after I walk out that door, I never want to see you or speak to you again. I can't make it any clearer that that."
A chilly bitterness swept across her face. "Fine. Go, then. We're through. I've put up with far too much from you already."
He released his breath and let his shoulders relax a little. "Goodbye, Catherine." He headed for the door.
"See how well you do without me," she said nastily. "The world is a cold place, Kevin. You'll find that out."
Borrowing a phrase from Adam, he said, "Whatever." And he left. For good.
#
When he didn't find Sara in his bed, he went looking for her. They bumped into each other on the balcony.
"Hi! I thought I heard you come in," she said. "Where have you been?"
He stared with open exasperation at her pants and shirt. "Oh, thanks, Sara."
"What?"
"I ask you to do one little thing for me..."
"Huh?"
He grabbed her. "You were supposed to stay naked and in my bed. Now I've got to go to all the trouble—"
She was laughing. "Stop!"
"—of hauling you back there—" He suited the action to the words.
"Hey, let go!"
"—and taking your clothes off. As if I don't have enough things to do today!"
"Were you getting groceries or something?" she asked as he dragged her towards the bedroom. "I walked your dog. He was whining."
"He was playing you. I don't usually walk him this early."
"Where did you go so early?"
He pulled her down to the rumpled bed and rolled over with her. "Okay. Straight up. I went to Catherine's."
"What?" Stunned, she sat bolt upright. "Why? What happened? Are you okay? Ryan!"
He folded his hands behind his head and looked at her. "I had to make sure she knows it's over, that nothing will ever get me back. I didn't want her bothering us, let alone trying something even more extreme than she did the other night."
"I can't believe you went there without telling me!"
"You were sleeping."
Now she was the one staring with open exasperation. "Ryan."
"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't want you to worry. Or try to stop me. Or insist on coming with me. I woke up and just wanted to finish it. Right away. This morning."
She took his hand. "What happened?"
He told her everything, and he concluded with, "This time, she accepted it."
"You're sure?"
He nodded. "Yes. Oh, you were right, she had feelings for me. More than I ever realized. But once I told her what my feelings for her are now..."
"Ah. She's coping with the rejection by deciding she despises you." When he gave her a quizzical look, Sara said, "She's clever, Ryan, but not complicated."
"I always thought she was complicated."
"You were an infatuated boy when you got to know her. Some of those impressions stuck. Besides, you don't know as much about women as you think you do."
"Yeah, yeah, okay."
She smiled, then squeezed his hand. "How do you feel now?"
"About Catherine? Relieved."
"And in general?"
"Oh, pretty unmanly."
"Unmanly?"
"Well, I let a clumsy idiot like Derrick beat me up and scare me into witless, gibbering terror—"
"You didn't let him—"
"I treated my girlfriend badly when she tried to help—"
"Ryan."
"—and then I cried like a baby in front of her."
"Oh, please. If you can't cry in front of me, then what kind of relationship do we have?"
"Overall, to get my self-respect back," he said, "I think I'm going to have to do something really macho, like break my fist trying to punch it through a brick wall."
"Oh, good grief."
He grinned at her. "But, apart from that, I feel pretty good."
"And your body?"
"A little sore, but I've had sex and sleep, so I'll live. And speaking of sex..." He toyed with her buttons. "Why are you still wearing all these clothes?"
"Actually... I can't do this right now."
"No?"
She shook her head. "I have to go back to my apartment. I'm expecting a call soon from my new..." Her eyes widened. "I didn't tell you!"
"Tell me what?"
"The other day, I got a call from that agent who's been reading the first six chapters of my new book."
"The chapters you won't let me read," he grumbled.
"She loves the chapters and loves the outline I wrote!"
"Of course she does."
"She was so full of enthusiasm for my work and for my career, and she had such good ideas for marketing the book that, well..." Sara smiled. "I hired her."
"This is the one you described as your dream agent, right?"
"Yes."
"Honey, that's great!" He sat up and kissed her.
"It feels pretty great," she admitted. "It's really given a boost to my confidence. And to my creative energy."
"Good. The sooner you finish writing this book, the sooner you'll finally let me read it."
"I don't like to let people see work in progress. Not even you."
"I know, I know. We've been over this." He put his arm around her. "So I've got a real job, and you've got a new agent. We should go out tonight and celebrate."
"Oh, yes, let's do that!"
"And you can wear that slinky black dress for me."
"I told you it pinches."
"Don't worry, you won't be in it for long." He paused. "Um, I meant to ask. I know you weren't really going to turn tricks—"
"I would've done anything, Ryan, to make you—"
"I wouldn't have let you, and you knew it. You counted on it."
"Well, yes, I did."
"But are you really in financial trouble?"
"Oh! No. I'm right on budget."
"You're such a lousy liar, I can't believe I fell for that one."
"Well, you were a wreck. And I threw myself into the part."
"Did I mention how much I love you?"
"You did." She kissed him.
Ryan murmured, "You're sure you don't have time for this right now?"
He kissed her deeply and slid his hand under her shirt. Sara made a throaty sound which he found very promising... but then she wriggled away from him. He sighed in disappointment and sank backwards upon the bed, doing his best to look deprived and in need of more tender loving care.
"Later," she promi
sed, smiling at him. "I don't want to miss this call. We didn't talk for long the other day. I was so worried about you that I couldn't concentrate, so I made up an excuse to get off the phone and—"
"I'm sorry."
"Shh." She brushed her fingertips across his stomach. "So we're going to talk more today. About the book, and her strategies, and my career."
He nodded. "Go home, take your call. I'll keep."
"Come with me?"
He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. "No, as long as you're busy, I'm going to take my car back to the dealer this morning and see about trading it in for an economy car."
"Oh, good idea."
"Then I want to stop by Safe House and explain to Isabel why I'm missing my first two days of work—"
"When she sees your face, she'll understand."
"That's what I figured. I'll need to reschedule with her so I can start my training."
"After that, maybe you should come home and get some more rest."
He shook his head. "I want to find Adam after that."
"Oh! Of course."
"Three days without seeing me," Ryan said gloomily. "He might think I've abandoned him. Or he might have disappeared by now."
The phone rang, startling them. Sara started to reached for it, then laughed at herself. "That can't be my call, we're in your house." She kissed him after he sat up. "I'm going home."
He nodded, smiling as he watched her slide off the bed and head for the door. He reached for the receiver. "Hello?"
There was no reply.
"Hello?"
Still no reply. But he heard some faint breathing.
He glanced up and saw Sara looking curiously at him from the doorway.
"Hello?" He heard a slight sound, maybe a grunt. Gut instinct made him suspect who was calling. "Adam?"
Sara gasped and came back into the room.
"Adam, is that you?"
"Um..."
"It's me," Ryan said. "I'm here. I'm glad you're calling." No reply. "Adam?"
"Yeah. It's me."
Thank God. He looked at Sara and nodded. She sat back down next to him on the bed.
"Adam, I tried to find you the other night. But I got hurt and couldn't move for a while. That's why I haven't been around." He waited, then said, "Are you all right?"
"Um, no..." There was a watery sniff.
"Are you hurt?" Ryan asked.
"Uh... Maybe. A little."
"Okay, Sara and I are going to come get you." He waited. "Adam? Is that okay, if we come get you?"
"Yeah... yeah, that's okay."
"Where are you?"
"I'm not exactly sure."
Ryan's heart was pounding. "Can you give me an idea?" When there was no reply, Ryan said, "What part of town? Can you see any street signs?'
"I'll get a map," Sara said.
Ryan kept Adam talking, and when Sara returned with a detailed map of the Bay area, they started narrowing it down until they knew, within a few blocks, where Adam was.
"We're coming to get you right now," Ryan said. "Stay where you are, and we'll be there soon. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I'm glad you called me. Don't scare me by not being there when I get there, all right?"
"I'll be here," the boy said brokenly.
After he hung up, Ryan said to Sara, "Something's happened to him. He won't say what."
"He's well enough to call you and speak coherently," she said. "And we're going straight to him. Right now."
"Okay. Right." He was trying to keep his head, despite the frantic pounding of his heart. "Oh, wait. Don't you have a call coming?"
"Don't be silly, I'll talk to her later or tomorrow."
"Sara."
"What?" She saw the look on his face, and she took his hand.
"Something happened to him. I was supposed to be looking out for him, supposed to—"
"Ryan, when he was in trouble," she said, "he called you."
He stared at her, aching for that scared, lost kid.
"He's finally asked for help." She kissed him tenderly. "And you're here to give it to him now."
Epilogue
Sara was sitting at her computer when Ryan came bursting through the door of the apartment—which was even more crowded than it used to be, now that she had been sharing it for the past six months with him, Macy, Alley, Mrs. Thatcher, and the fish.
"So? What happened?" he asked. "I tried to call you three times today, but the line was always busy."
"I've been on the phone most of the day," she said.
"Well?" he prodded.
She suddenly laughed and clapped her hands. "It's over! I have a two-book deal for three hundred thousand dollars!"
"Hey!" He hauled her out of her chair to kiss her, then picked her up and spun her around, both of them laughing with delight. His startled cat jumped off Sara's desk and ran out of the room. Macy lifted his head and gave a half-hearted bark, then decided it was too much trouble to get involved in the excitement and went back to sleep. "Wow! I'm so proud of you, sweetheart!"
"By now, I'm just glad it's over. I've been a nervous wreck!"
Since her restless anxiety had kept him awake several nights in a row, he was well aware of her nerves. He also knew that Sara would probably be too excited to sleep well tonight, either. In a day or so, however, she'd crash and conk out for ten hours.
Ryan led her over to his leather chair, which added to the clutter of their cramped living quarters, sat down, and pulled her onto his lap. "Well, come on. Tell me everything."
Practically vibrating with excitement, she started talking about the details of the new publishing deal which, as anticipated, her agent had concluded today. Ryan occasionally interrupted her with a question, but otherwise he just sat listening to her, getting a kick out of seeing her this happy.
Sara had finished the book last month and given it to her new agent, who'd sent it to four hand-picked publishers and given them a limited period of time in which to bid on it. One of them had rejected the book, sending Sara into a depression which Ryan couldn't alleviate. A few days later, however, the remaining three publishers had made offers—all of them for much more money than Sara had been making for her mystery series. After the initial thrill, though, Sara had started agonizing again: Which publishing house would be the best one for her career, and which of the three offers was, overall, the best deal? Ryan was learning that deals like this were complicated, and the sum of money being offered wasn't the only factor to consider. Sara had spent much of the past three days on the phone with her agent discussing the details, or else keeping the telephone line open to receive yet another such call after her agent consulted the bidding publishers with questions which she and Sara had about their proposed deals.
Now, happy for her and proud of her, Ryan couldn't resist stopping the flow of her funny monologue with a long, slow, sultry kiss.
"Oh, that's nice," she said breathlessly.
When she tried to kiss him again, he said, "No, that's all you get until you finish telling me what happened."
"Hmph. Where was I? Oh, I know!"
He was so pleased that Sara's talent was finally being rewarded. So glad that her risks and her hard work were paying off. And no one knew better than Ryan how hard she'd been working. She'd scarcely touched him during the final few weeks she had spent wrestling with the book; hunched over the keyboard all day every day during that time, she would tumble into bed at night and sleep like the dead, oblivious to her pining lover lying beside her. By day, on those rare occasions when Ryan could even get her away from her desk, she was distracted and cranky.
It had been a huge relief to him, in more ways than one, when she'd poked him awake late one night, announced the book was done, and spent the next two hours giving him some of the most mind-blowing sex of their relationship. Then she'd fallen asleep for ten hours and finally woken up the next day in a good mood and showing a normal interest in real life again.
"Then
that editor said he couldn't go any higher than one hundred thousand per book, so my agent told him he was out of the running," Sara was saying now, practically bouncing with excitement. "She said he actually seemed upset, Ryan."
"Of course he was upset. It's an incredible book." He nudged her. "Now that you've finally let me read it."
"Hey, I gave you a printout the day after it was done. You were the very first person who got to read it. Even my agent waited longer for it than you did." She nudged him back. "When you sleep with the writer, you get perks."
"I earn them."
She grinned. "Yes, you do."
Sara finished telling him about how the deal had been concluded with the winning bidder. "When it was all over, the editor called me so we could get to know each other. Talk about my future there, about their plans for this book, about the revisions she wants on it."
"What revisions?" he demanded. "There's nothing wrong with it."
"Oh, there are a few things. Little things. There's a scene she thinks I should add, and a place where she thinks I should change the order of a couple of scenes." Sara added, "I like her. She was full of enthusiasm and compliments, and her only criticisms were specific and constructive. That's what I consider a good editor." She poked him. "That's what I consider a good husband, too, so you should take notes."
"We're not even married yet, and I'm getting notes already?"
"Oh! That was the other person I was on the phone with all day. My father's rabbi."
"What did he say?"
"Well, he was still fretting about you not taking any kind of instruction before the marriage. I told him no again. I explained again that you're working full time, attending class twice a week, and driving out to Bernice Village once a week. I said I'd actually like to see you once in a while, since I'm marrying you because I kind of like your company."
"Flatterer."
"Anyhow, he kept kvetching and—"
"What?"
"Fretting, complaining."
"Oh." He grinned. "Another word for my expanding Yiddish vocabulary."
"But I told him that all that matters to me is that I marry you. Whether or not a rabbi performs the service matters only to my father, whom I am willing to disappoint if my father's wishes become an inconvenience to my groom."