by Elle Casey
“You could say that. We tend to call them emotionally fragile, though.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” I know some of the people who live here, and I also know they wouldn’t take kindly to being called crybabies, even if that’s what they are.
“Can I call you a cab, sir?”
“Actually, no, I’ve arranged for a limo service to be out front. I’m taking my niece to The Met.”
“That’s nice.” He makes sure the doors don’t close on Cassie and me as we walk through. “I didn’t know babies like art.”
“Let’s hope this one does,” I say, “because if I don’t get out of my condo and into the real world soon, I’m going to go crazy.”
He laughs. “Good luck with that, sir.” He deposits my baby gear on the sidewalk next to the limo that’s idling there. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I dig around in my pocket and come out with a ten. “No thanks. Here. I’ll see you later.”
“Not me, sir. I’m off in an hour. Good luck.” He takes the ten and tips his head at me before going back inside.
The driver gets out and busies himself with loading the gear into the trunk. When he’s done, I give him instructions on how to install the carseat. I feel like a parent, knowing how it’s done. I’m surprised by the feeling of pride that gives me.
A parent? Me? I never thought about it much before. I figured I’d end up with a woman who didn’t want kids, and I would have been okay with that. Now I’m not so sure. Every time I try to picture myself with another woman, she looks just like Leah.
I lean in and strap Cassie into the carseat. The driver gets into the car as I stand and turn around, making sure we have all our things loaded before we leave. The idea of being in The Met without ten diapers, wiping cloths, three cans of formula and bottles, bottled water, five changes of clothing, baby ibuprofen, and four dishcloths has me panicking.
I’m distracted by the sound of someone running. A streak of yellow is coming at me from the north.
“James!” she yells.
It’s Leah and she looks like she’s being chased by an axe murderer the way her eyes are bugging out and her hair is flying all around her.
I hold out my arms to stop her from bowling me over and brace myself for impact.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
AT THE CORNER OF FIFTH and East Fifty-Seventh I make a hard left. I can see Trump Towers just ahead. If I can just make it to the lobby, I’ll be home free. My legs are so sore and slow it’s like I’m running in quicksand. The adrenaline has worn off. This is my worst nightmare come true; I’m so close, and yet so far...
Someone grabs my bag from behind and tries to yank it off me. I twist around in mid run and let my arms do whatever they want. Windmill! Slap attack! Ow that hurts!
My hand makes contact with someone’s face and he shouts. It’s enough of a shock that he lets me go. I’m free!
People all around are staring at us with expressions of horror on their faces. I’m furious that it’s all they’re doing. Yes, people! Muggings do happen in Manhattan, just usually not in your neighborhood!
I take off running again, no thanks to any of these Manhattanites, another shot of adrenaline giving my legs an extra kick of speed. I’m almost there … almost there…
I catch a glimpse of a limo outside the Towers and a guy is standing outside it, looking at me. Recognition dawns and my heart soars into the clouds. I’m saved! My prince is here!
“James!” I scream, putting my head down and giving it all I’ve got.
I’m so intent on going as fast as I can, that I don’t give any thought to how I’m going to stop. He’s in front of me way before I expect him to be and I’m not prepared.
“Ooph!”
He grunts and takes me into his arms, both of us falling backwards into the side of the car. His body takes the shock of our impact, but I feel no pain.
“Holy shit,” he says in a strained voice. “That hurt.”
I’m still amped up on brain-drugs and fear of death. “Hurry up! Hurry up!” I push on his middle, planning to fold him in half and then jump into the limo after him. “Get inside!” I turn my attention to the front of the car. “Go, driver! Go!” I’m still not in the car but I’m willing to jump into the open window if necessary. I need to get me, James, and his sweet little baby niece out of here before someone hurts us.
“Leah, relax!” James clamps down on my arms with what feels like bands of steel.
I look over my shoulder, sure I’m going to see a guy standing there with a gun pointed at my back.
The sidewalk is empty, save for one old lady in a linen pants suit and a bright blue and red scarf.
I pause in my scramble to get into the car. “He was there,” I say between huffs of breath. Sweat is pouring down my back.
James pushes me away a little and stands up straighter, positioning me so that I’m between him and the back seat of the car. The door is open and I’m in the entrance. From my new spot I can see Cassie’s carseat inside and her in it. She’s looking at me and pouting.
“She’s upset,” I say, worried she’s about to cry. I wipe the sweat off my temple with a trembling hand.
“Maybe because a crazy person just tried to hijack our car,” James says, a hint of humor in his voice.
I swallow with effort, my throat as dry as sand. “It’s not a joke.” I’m angry at him now, my chest still heaving. “I was being chased by someone. A thief. A mugger. A mugger thief.”
“In the middle of the afternoon? On Fifth Avenue?”
I take a few deep breaths and let each one out with a loud yoga hiss as I scan the immediate area. “He trashed my apartment and followed me on the subway.” I huff and puff a few more times to keep my brain from blacking out due to lack of oxygen. “I barely got away. He grabbed me over there.” I point to the corner a block over. My whole arm is shaking so I put it down quick.
James looks out into the distance. “Did anyone see it happen?”
“Hell yes!” I’m pissed all over again remembering it. “Several people, in fact. But did they do anything? No. They just stood there with their fat mouths hanging open.”
“All right, come on.” He pushes on my shoulder. “Get in the car.”
“Where are we going?” I have to wipe the sides of my face again. The sweat won’t stop coming, and I’m tingling all over.
“We’re going back to your place to get your things.”
I was about to get in, but then I stop, bracing my hand on the hood. “No, wait! We can’t go back there.” Several images are racing through my brain, the foremost one being that I would rather eat frog eyeballs than let James see my apartment. It was bad enough before, but now it looks like it should be condemned. For real condemned, not theoretically condemned.
“Why not? Did you already file a police report?”
“No.” I pout as I realize I’m losing ground for my argument that staying here is a better idea. I probably should have done the police report thing first. The asshole probably left fingerprints. “I think I might be a little obsessed with this ring thing,” I admit. “My first thought was to get it back to you so all this bad shit can stop happening to me.” As I say it, I realize it’s a bit of a lie. My first thought was that I was safer with James. The ring thing came to mind a second after.
“The ring is doing this … is that what you think?”
“I don’t think it, I know it. And you do too. This thing has The Devil’s smudge on it.”
He laughs. “The Devil’s smudge. Is that a thing now?”
I shove his shoulder. “It’s always been a thing. Stop laughing at me. You know I’m right.”
His smile dies off and he puts his hand on my cheek. Part of me wants to move out of range because of the sweat, but I stay. I stay because he’s touching me and it feels nice. I want to throw my arms around him, but I control myself.
“I do know what you’re talking about,” he says. His hand slides down to
my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go to your place, file a report, and then go to Cartier and get rid of that thing once and for all.”
I feel like my head is about to explode. “Really? Do you mean it?” I start clapping in anticipation.
“Yes, I really do. Come on. Get in the car, would you? I don’t have all day.”
I practically jump inside, I’m so happy. Who cares if he sees my terrible apartment now? He’s agreed to take the ring and get rid of it forever. My life is finally going to get re-set. I’ll be able to go visit Mel without worrying my bad luck is going to rub off on him. I’ll go to the farmer’s market tomorrow and sell the hell out of those oils and crystals for Belinda. I’ll find another apartment, one that’s cheaper and maybe even closer to work. Or not. Maybe I’ll just live in a box somewhere, but I’ll be free of that bad juju. Life. Is. Awesome. Bright future, here I come!
As I settle into my seat and get a look at Cassie, my joy kind of dissipates a little. I have to look away to keep from tearing up. It becomes painfully clear in that moment that getting rid of the ring also means I won’t be seeing anymore of James or this tiny girl, either. Maybe a few days ago that wouldn’t have meant jack-poo to me, but today, it means a lot. Probably way more than it should. I seriously hate how much this ring has messed with my life. I’m damned if I keep it and damned if I get rid of it. I must have done something very, very wrong in my last life to deserve this. Karmic slap. Boom. Feel the burn.
I look at Cassie again and she’s smiling at me. It takes some of the edge off my frustration. The more I stare at her, the harder she smiles. I reach over and poke her gently in the belly. “Well, don’t you look adorable today?”
She’s wearing one of the outfits I picked out at Babies-R-Us. Not that she needed anymore clothes, but there was something about that little ladybug pattern all over it that called to me. Luckily James finally got into the Pretty Woman moment and let me buy anything I wanted. I’m touched he chose this outfit instead of one of the fifty his sister packed.
Looking back, I realize it was probably one of the funnest shopping days I’ve ever had. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to be able to walk up to Tamika or whatever her name is and say, “You work on commission, right?” while I waved my fifty bags at her.
“Ready?” James asks me, interrupting my fantasy as he settles into the seat on the other side of Cassie.
I nod. I’m back to having a melancholy moment, wondering if this is the last ride we’ll take together. The last day I’ll be able to call him Boo and see his facial expression go from angry to comical to serious. I love that he swings through so many emotions in such a short space of time. Being with him is like going to the fair and riding a huge roller coaster. I think I’m going to miss the thrill that trying to trick him brings.
I’m definitely twisted. My ends feel like beginnings and my beginnings ends. Here I thought I was at the end of the road, and yet I’m asking for a do-over. Yeah. I’m definitely sick. I feel my forehead with the back of my hand to check for a fever, but all I find is more sweat.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
I tell him my address as I dig around in my purse, pretending to be busy. I don’t want to see the expression on his or the driver’s face since I’ve pretty much just told him I’m poor as dirt by just saying the street name.
“Are you looking for the ring?” he asks.
“Yes.” I’m lying, but just as I say it, my fingers close around it.
“Give it to me. I don’t want anyone coming after you again.”
I happily hand it over. He puts it in the front pocket of his pants. “So what did this guy look like?”
“It’s not what he looked like so much as what he smells like.”
James just stares at me with one eyebrow lifted.
“I rigged a trap in case he came back.”
“Of course you did.” James breathes out a long sigh. “Are you going to tell me the whole story or am I going to have to torture it out of you?”
I bite my lip, the images of his ‘torture’ making me go all squirrelly inside. “Uhhh … I think I’ll just tell you minus the torture part.”
“Good call,” he says, giving me a dangerous look.
Now I’m warm for a different reason, and the heat I’m feeling from this little game is way more than I was feeling after running six blocks.
I lift out my shirt a little and wave the material around, begging for some cool air to come to my chest and help me out. At this point I’m going to combust five minutes into our drive and we have at least twenty to go.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
“SO THIS ISN’T THE FIRST time you’ve seen him?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. The first time was at a jewelry store. When I first found the ring, I tried to figure out if it was real.” She looks sideways at me, like she feels guilty about something, but then continues, scratching her neck. “I went to this Goldman’s jewelry store and he told me it was real and if I came back the next day, he might be able to tell me who owned it by the laser etching.”
Alarm bells are ringing in my head. “And this didn’t strike you as strange?”
Her eyebrows draw together. “No. Should it have?” She scratches her neck again.
“Why couldn’t he just tell you the first time you came in? Why did he have to make you wait?”
“I don’t know. I guess I figured it would take him a long time to do it. Maybe he was busy.”
“Was it a busy place?”
She laughs self-consciously. “Uh, no. Not at all. There was dust everywhere.”
I reach over and pull her hand away from her neck. “Are you having an allergic reaction to something? This looks like hives.”
“No, no, it’s nothing.” Her face turns pink all over. “I get itchy when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous? What are you nervous about?”
She shrugs and looks out the window, saying nothing.
“If there’s something you want to say, you know you can say it to me.” I want to ease her discomfort. It makes me feel bad to see her this way.
She sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders. “I guess I’m not looking forward to the end as much as I thought I would.”
My pulse leaps. I know exactly what she means. When I suggested we’d go to Cartier and end this thing, I was doing the one thing I knew would make her happy, all the while knowing it was going to make me miserable.
“I know what you mean,” I say softly, trying to keep our conversation from becoming the driver’s next gossip session.
She looks at me, the sadness in her eyes difficult to take. “I don’t think you do.”
I reach over the carseat and take her hand, resting it with mine on Cassie’s legs. “Sure I do. This has been …”
I wait too long to finish my sentence.
“Crazy? Nuts? Annoying?” she offers.
“No. Fun.” I smile when I realize I’m telling the truth. “It’s been fun. Honestly, I can’t remember being this energized in years.”
She pulls her hand away, her expression going incredulous. “Fun? Are you kidding? I’ve disguised myself to try and sneak into your office, your apartment … I’ve been kicked out more times than I care to remember. You’ve been rude, arrogant … you pulled a gun on me…”
“Yeah,” I hold up a finger, “but it’s been fun, right?”
She opens her mouth to argue, but then she stops. She stares at me for a long time, and then she responds. “Maybe it’s been a little fun. Shopping for Cassie was fun.”
“See? That’s the spirit.” I look out the window and notice we’re close to her place. “There’s no reason the fun has to end.” I say it casually, but my ears are completely tuned into her, waiting to hear what she’s going to say.
“I don’t see how it can continue. Once that ring is gone, I have no more reason to dress up Asian-style and try to sneak fake-Chinese food into your apartment.�
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I turn and grin at her. “You can just come up as you next time. No disguise.”
She looks at me funny. “You don’t want me up there as me.”
“Sure I do. I just said I did, didn’t I?”
She stares at me for a few seconds, like she’s trying to peel back layers of my brain and find out if I’m lying. Then she turns her head and stares out the window, saying nothing.
We reach her apartment and she gets out. At first I think she’s going to just take off and leave us at the curb but she stops and reaches in, taking the diaper bag off the floor below Cassie’s car seat. “I’m on the third floor. Apartment at the top of the stairs.”
“I’ll meet you up there.” Looking at the driver, I say, “Would you mind going with her, just to be sure there’s no one up there?” He’s about three hundred pounds, most of it muscle. I have no worries about his ability to handle whatever might be waiting.
“No problem, sir.” The uniformed driver gets out and runs to open the main door for Leah.
“Come on, baby girl. Time to go crack some skulls.” I pull Cassie out of her seat and follow them into the building.
The first thing that hits me is the smell. Someone has been boiling either cabbage or body parts for a really long time in here.
The door on the ground floor opens and a guy comes out dressed in a red and white track suit. “Who’re you?” he asks, acting suspicious.
“I’m James Oliver, and I’m here with Leah. We’re in the process of contacting the police to fill out a report.”
“Yeah, well, you’re too late. I already did it.” He smiles, obviously very satisfied with himself.
I turn around and check the door. “Do you have a lock on this front door to keep non-residents from entering?”
“Yes.” Larry’s chin comes up. “I installed it myself. I have good tools.”
“I’m sure you do. What about the fire escape ladder? Is it suspended high enough off the ground to keep an intruder from using it to gain entry?”