Mike was not only a good-looking guy. He was an absolute sweetheart, did the right things for the right reasons. But some how Claudia knew she just was never going to feel the same way he did. Like someone waiting for her, but who and where? It didn't feel like someone from where she had come from, but more like someone here, someone nearby. Mike was the only man she met since waking up. Only as sweet and kind as he was, he wasn't the one. No, there was someone else. Someone she had loved her whole life, she knew it. She just knew it. So why wasn't he looking for her? Why didn't he come to the hospital to see her? Why didn't he report her missing when she disappeared?
Well, he wasn't here, if he even existed, and Mike was here. Mike was just about everything a woman could want. Granted, it had only been a few weeks. Once she woke up, he visited her in the hospital and one of the nurses told her he used to come while she was in the coma. And now she lived with him. Why not see if things worked out with him?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Win gave a low bark outside the trailer. Frank hated to tie him up, but they were too close to the road. He didn't want Win getting hurt, and there wasn't enough room in the trailer to make Win comfortable.
It had been over two weeks and still Catherine hadn't left his house. Frank had done everything possible to push her along, finally getting one of his buddies at the courthouse to hurry through the ruling. True to form, Catherine tried her best to keep her hold in the house. After a special ruling, she was to be served her eviction papers today. Unfortunately, that still gave her a week to get out of the house.
Frank looked out at the men, already starting work. He was wrung out. He'd been sleeping on the small worn couch in the same room as his desk. Construction trailers didn't have much to them, but at least this one had working plumbing. He had managed to get in a shower and look presentable by the time the first of his employees arrived. Most of them didn't know the boss man lived at the site.
He stretched wide and stood from his desk, getting his third cup of coffee. The caffeine helped a little. Even though it was well into the afternoon, a groggy daze held over his mind. What brought him fully awake was when the door opened and that blonde harlot marched her happy ass inside, then sat on his couch like she belonged there.
"Hi, sweetie.” Catherine smiled wide.
"What do you want?"
"Just wanted to give you one last chance to win me back.” Her shoulders were back, showing again what she considered her greatest asset, her breasts. Frank wished her mind were half as good.
"No, thank you. Now please leave."
"I'll make your life hell if you divorce me.” She snaked her tongue out of her mouth and wet her red lips.
"I think you're losing this argument."
She flipped her blonde hair, then unbuttoned another button on her top. The edge of her white lace bra showed. She always pulled crap like that, and Frank had finally started to notice she was all looks, no heart. Amazing it took him so long to realize it.
"I bet you think that little trick with the deputy was cute, don't you?"
"Not really, but it did help me make my case to get you out of the house faster. Thanks for acting that way. It really helped my case."
According to Frank's attorney, he couldn't force Catherine out without a ruling in the divorce settlement or some sort of charges. He needed a cause to prove Catherine was destroying his property. Thankfully, he had just that.
The night she had come home from the hospital and he had picked up his clothes, she'd gone off the deep end. More to the point, she continued to go crazy after Frank had left and called the sheriff's department. From what he had learned, Catherine had to spend the night in jail. The charges read from propositioning an officer to assault against an officer. It seemed when the deputy turned her down, she started throwing things at him. She went as far as to break his windshield. Not good. Well, not for her at least.
"I suggest you find a place to live. If you're not out in a week, that deputy will be back to escort you off the premises."
"You'd like that wouldn't you?"
Bill poked his head in the door, and his expression changed to disgust when he saw Catherine sitting there. “Boss, can I talk to you for a minute? We've got a little problem out here."
"I'll be back,” he gave Catherine a hard look. “Don't touch anything."
Bill stood there, arms across over his chest. “Do you want me to call the law?"
"I'll do it if she starts to make a fuss. I think I'll put a restraining order against her too.” He looked around at the working men. “What's the trouble?"
"It's over here."
* * * *
Catherine glanced outside and watched Frank step away from the building. This might be her only chance. She opened her purse and pulled out a vial of powder. Good old rat poison. She had no doubts that when the court date arrived, she wouldn't have any chance of alimony or anything else after all of her sins were brought to light. That made her future prospects for money slim.
She pulled out the oversized carafe and dumped the powder into the coffee. She swirled it around, letting it mix. Being divorced wouldn't pay a sloppy adulterer well, but being a widow would, especially with that insurance policy she took out on her dear husband.
With that handled, she went around Frank's desk. She was running low on cash and hoped to get to the hair salon today. A few scars still lingered, so she had to make an extra effort to look nice. Besides, she should be husband shopping soon. This time she would find a nice business man. Maybe one with a pool and hot pool boy.
"Just what in the hell are you doing?” Frank came in, looking so smug and annoyed. She'd show him.
"Nothing. Just taking an interest in your business. Half of it will be mine soon."
"The hell you say."
She only smiled. She knew no judge in the country would award her much more than her clothes and maybe a small allowance to help her get on her feet. It was fun to torture Frank though.
"Fine, fine.” She looked at the coffee. “Let me make it up to you by pouring you a cup of coffee."
"Make it up to me by leaving.” He opened the door for her.
"If that's what you want. How about an advance on all that money you'll be paying me? A lady has to look nice."
"I would pay to see you look like a lady, but since that's not going to happen, leave. If you're hurting for cash, sell some of that jewelry I bought you."
* * * *
As soon as Frank saw Catherine pull away, he called his lawyer. Tomorrow a restraining order would be presented. He doubted that would keep her away from his place of business but he could at least have her locked up every time she visited.
He sipped the last bit of coffee left in his mug and went to the carafe. One more cup should do the trick. He had paperwork to attack. He hated forms. He poured his mug full of coffee then returned to his desk. There was so much paperwork, and he hadn't started on the pile from the other worksite, much less the permits he would have to file for the downtown job. He needed a secretary.
Frank raised the mug to his lips, tipped the black liquid toward him. He always enjoyed fresh hot coffee. The liquid came toward him, touched his lips, and spilled on his pants. Damn it all. That woman had him too shaken up to drink. He didn't want to look like a wreck today. Couldn't anything go his way? He walked toward the bathroom, pulling a hot section of cloth away from his skin.
There were some good things about living where he worked. He didn't have to leave to change clothes. A minute later and he changed into fresh jeans. He hoped to have his paperwork finished so he could drop it off during his errands today.
Frank slumped back behind his desk, looked at his coffee, then thought better of it. The caffeine wouldn't only wake him up but make him tense. His nerves were already strung too tight.
He hadn't really taken to drinking, especially this early in the day but Catherine had his nerves frazzled. If that whore thought she was getting a cent from him, she was sadly mistaken.
He pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk. This would take away the edge.
Actually it was the first drink he'd taken since leaving the hospital. Damn Catherine. She made a mockery of their marriage and then when she had the chance to finally do the right thing, to leave her body and let Pam have it, she went and turned even nastier than she had been before. From their wedding date he knew she was a selfish bitch, but this went beyond even that. She clearly calculated every action to make life a living hell for everyone. A few times he wondered what had made her such a cold, mean-spirited person, but it was meaningless to go there. She just was a cold-hearted bitch, and that was that. The woman could have had it all, instead she grasped at things that weren't going to make her happy. She had to have them because everyone else did.
"She wanted me and I gave myself to her heart and soul. But she didn't really want me for myself. She wanted me because someone else had me. Pam had me. Not once but twice."
He took a swallow of the amber liquid. Its bite was enticing and at the same time reminded him he hadn't eaten yet today. After putting the bottle back in the drawer, he stood and stretched. He'd do his paperwork first, then go out for a nice dinner. Drinking on the job was something he would not permit in other so he couldn't allow it in himself.
"Oh, hell, I'm thinking crazy. Pam wasn't inside Catherine. I just wanted to believe it was Pam inside her. That had to be what happened. And Catherine just had amnesia and forgot to be nasty. Yeah, that's what it had to be. I lost Pam years ago, and I'll never have her back."
He couldn't forget those eyes though. Catherine's had been bright blue since she came out of the hospital. No hint of green. No amount of denial would change what he saw in her eyes. When they were green, she was a godsend.
He reached for his jacket and found that same old hurt inching up again. Pam had been his best friend and he let her down. If she had found a way back, she wouldn't want him again. Even getting a second chance, he had failed her. Pam would be better off with someone else.
"I don't know. I just don't know what I could have done to save her."
For the next few hours, he finished the forms, caught up the books, then filed everything away. Thankfully, an accountant handled the payroll or he would never keep things straight. By three o'clock, he had everything handled and got ready to go to downtown.
Frank picked up the radio on the desk. “Hey, Bill."
"Yeah."
"I'm heading out. The place is yours. Lock up when you're finished."
"Sure thing."
He put out the lights and headed toward his truck. His truck bounced and jostled him as he left the site, turning onto the main road. It wasn't a long drive to town but daytime traffic was killer. By the time he had finished at the courthouse, his lawyers, and then the accountants, the day had gone.
Driving along he contemplated dinner. Another dinner of canned or microwaved whatever, alone in his kitchen. Alone, without Pam. Her meals were good, darn good, but it was her company, her being there that made it all wonderful. “Pam".
Abruptly he pulled into a parking lot and in front of a rustic-looking wooden building. For all the times he'd driven this road, stopping here had never occurred to him. Now the little restaurant housed in the quaint building drew him in. Aptly called “Trevi's,” he vaguely remembered hearing some of the guys tell him it was a pretty good place.
He got out, and as he approached the door, he saw a couple walking in just ahead of him. There was something refreshing about them, the tall good-looking man with the petite redhead. They had an ease about them, like a couple who had known each other awhile, but hadn't yet fallen in love, like friends who discovered they could be romantic too. The man held the door open for Frank, and the three exchanged smiles. There was something about the woman's smile that tugged at Frank's heart. Nothing he could put his finger on, but there was something special about it. Lucky guy. He didn't know why, but the man just seemed lucky to be with the redheaded woman.
The restaurant was nice and he needed a change from the trailer. Staring at those walls was getting to him. Probably to Win, too. Frank would have to take him out for a run. Poor dog probably missed his backyard.
Frank opened the menu, finding a great variety of food to pick from. He looked around to see what other people were eating. He also noticed that the cute redhead sat across the room from him. He could eat and watch those little dimples in her cheeks.
He mentally shook himself. His heart was mending from Pam. The last thing he needed was mending a broken nose from the cutie's boyfriend. Besides, looking at her only reminded him of Pam.
"Can I take your order?"
A waitress approached, rattling off the specials. Still he couldn't take his eyes off that other woman. Maybe he knew her from someplace or something. He couldn't remember being so enamored with anyone since Pam.
For the next hour he ate and tried not to stare at the couple in front of him, although he did catch the lady looking his way a few times. The meal was everything Frank had heard it would be and then some. It had been years since he'd had real lasagna. And while he didn't usually eat dessert, when he saw the woman order some sort of fluffy thing, he ordered some too. The waitress told him it was tiramisu. As he savored each bite, Frank resolved to himself to enjoy life a bit more.
His meal done, he paid his bill and grabbed the doggie bag to head home. Not that he couldn't finish the meal, but he wanted to bring a treat home for Win. The dog had been so stoic. His best friend probably missed Pam as much as he did.
Frank slid into his truck when his cell phone went off. The hour was a little late for work, but it was Bill's number. He answered it, wondering what new troubles had landed in his lap. A call this late had to mean something terrible had happened.
"What's going on?"
"Come to the hospital."
"The hospital?"
No one should be working at this hour. The men should've gone home hours ago. Frank started to say something about it when Bill stopped him.
"It's bad. It's Jose. He's real sick."
Chapter Twenty-Five
During dinner, much to Mike's chagrin, Claudia seemed preoccupied with a tall, dark-haired man dining by himself. As her gaze went back to him over and over, Mike felt his plans for a romantic evening going by the wayside. “Is that someone you know, Claudia?"
"Who?"
"The guy you keep looking at."
"No. I don't know him at all. There's just something so sad about him. He just seems so sad, you know?"
Unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice, he prompted, “So do you want to go cheer him up?"
Claudia stopped eating and looked at him. “Mike! I can't believe you just said that!"
"Well, the way you keep looking over there..."
"Mike.” She put her hand on his. “I'm here with you. We're enjoying ourselves, and well, I don't know why, but I do feel he's sad for some reason. I'm not about to poke my nose into someone else's business. Okay? It's not like I'm flirting with him or something."
"Yeah, Claud. I'm sorry. Sometimes,” he threaded his fingers through his hair, “sometimes I want, I want..."
"You want me to realize I'm crazy about you and that my past doesn't matter and that even if there was a guy in my past, I'd want you in my future."
"For a woman with no memory of her past, you sure have a grip on your present."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Just an observation."
"Okay, Mr. Observer, tell me about your day today."
As Mike started to fill her in on his day, he noted she tried hard to concentrate on him and what he was saying. It was an effort. Clearly there was something about the other man held her attention. The idea bugged him for the rest of their meal.
They both remained quiet on the drive home. Mike hated that. Usually they had no trouble having a conversation. He loved talking to her, listening to her opinions and how she'd sometimes wonder if they were long-standing or new ones
or how she had occupied her time while he had been at work. Now, the silence in the car held physical weight, seemed to almost suffocate him.
All this had to be in his head. He was just upset about that man. Claudia paid him too much attention and he had caught the stranger watching her, although more discretely than Claudia had been. It brought up the nagging sensation that Claudia wasn't really his. Like he was some damn placeholder, a temporary thing when what he wanted was Claudia forever.
The awkward silence continued into their home. Something seemed to have shifted. Claudia must have sensed it too because she remained lost in thought, hardly watching the television.
"I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed.” He wasn't really all that tired, but he knew if he stayed up and around Claudia much longer he'd do something stupid. With a quick “Night,” he left her watching television.
A few years in the military and working graveyard shifts in the police department gave him a sixth-sense type reaction to sound. He could be dead to the world asleep and the slightest sound would bring him instantly awake. He'd also taken to sleeping with his gun under the mattress, not so much because of the neighborhood he lived in, but by force of habit from his army days. The slight creak of his bedroom door had him instantly awake, gun in hand, he couldn't believe the sight that greeted him.
Claudia stood just inches from his bed, the thin robe that barely reached halfway down her thighs parted to reveal the smooth skin beneath. Nothing could have prepared him for her slow, steady, and sure advance, nor for how he felt when she slipped between the sheets with him.
"Claudia?"
"I need you, Mike. I need to be with you."
You all right? Did something scare you?"
She shifted to roll half on her side, half on her belly, causing the robe to slip open.
"Did you remember something?"
"No, nothing like that, nothing bad, nothing scary."
Her Eyes Page 15