The Simpatico Series Box Set (3 books in 1)

by Dermot Davis

  “Mom and dad,” Andrew thought out loud, a disgusted expression on his face, “ugghhh.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen? They fall in love and your mom moves into—“

  “Shut up!” Andrew shouted, only half-joking. “Don’t even suggest such a thing!”

  “Sounds like your mom would be up for it, though. Just saying,” Fiona continued, knowing she was pushing it.

  “Oh, turn the car around, why don’t you, or better yet, shoot me in the friggin' head.”

  “Yeah, sorry, not going to happen. Ran out of ammo hours ago.”

  “You ran out of ammo again?” Andrew asked, his mood lightening. “How many times have I told you to stock up properly and stop wasting shots? What are we going to do when the apocalypse comes? Throw sticks at the invading zombie hordes?”

  “I’m so sorry, Andrew,” Fiona apologized in a put-on, rural Southern voice. “I had to go shoot me some meat for the dinner or the kids woulda starved to death, hon. They hadn’t had meat in nigh a few months. We et some wild hog.”

  “Well, okay then,” Andrew relented, playing along. “Pass me the moonshine and we’ll say no more about it.”

  “Moonshine all gone too, honey darlin’. Gotta give them kids somepin’ better to drink than that no-good sugared-up high-falutin’ cola garbage that’s been rotting their teeth out, poor lil sweethearts.”

  “You’re sick, you know that?” he said and his face broke out into a smile.

  “I’m sick cos my lame-ass, no-good hubby don’t got no job and set around t’house all day… moaning and complaining is why,” she said, happy that he had finally shifted out of his funk. “About time he got himself a good-paying job is all I’m saying.”

  “Says the princess who never worked a day in her life.”

  “I could work,” she then said in her natural voice. “Be better than sitting around trying to amuse myself all day.”

  “Oh, yeah? What would you work at? Unicorn whisperer?”

  “Oh, I’d be a really good unicorn whisperer,” she said with relish. “I’d kill for a job like that. Do you think they’re hiring?”

  “I thought you were a pacifist. Who would you kill, exactly?”

  “I’d kill whoever’s killing the unicorns, silly.”

  “We’ll check the help wanted listings when we get back home, maybe look on line… we could do an advanced search in a search engine,” Andrew suggested as he sat back in his seat. “You might have to settle for Angel communicator if all the unicorn positions are full.”

  “I could do that too,” Fiona said perkily. “See, I’m not as useless as you think I am sometimes.”

  “I never said that you were useless,” Andrew objected with a smile. “I might have said that you’re unhirable but that’s different than being useless. A lot different.”

  “Michael’s restaurant, ta-da!” Fiona announced as she pulled up to the valet stand.

  Simon and Angela had already arrived and were sitting at a table, at the back, sipping cocktails. As the young couple approached, Andrew winced when he saw his mother laugh stupidly at whatever Simon had just said and to his shock his mother touched the man’s hand as if to playfully scold him.

  “There’s the happy couple,” Simon said as he stood to greet them. “They clean up well, don’t they, Angela,” he said with his charm on full beams.

  “They surely do,” Angela said and also stood, her arms outstretched to greet her son. “Like they just walked out of a magazine.”

  “Hi, mom,” Andrew said as he hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Go easy on those cocktails, you know how quickly they go to your head, on an empty stomach and everything.”

  “Now that you guys are here, we can order,” Simon said, gesturing to the waiter.

  Despite Andrew’s reluctance he sat beside Fiona and opened the menu he was given by the waiter. Fiona slipped her hand into his and looked deeply into his eyes with love and acceptance. Looking back into her eyes he understood that she was telling him that he was loved but could you please chill out and commit to having a good time, already? Her look disarmed him and pressing her hand tighter, he smiled and relaxed his body more.

  Just as she had suggested, Andrew ordered one of the most expensive dishes on the menu and played footsie with his girlfriend the entire evening. Feeling lucky to have such deep love in his young life, from such an amazing and beautiful individual as Fiona, he cared less and less that his mother was getting tipsy, talking too much and flirting shamelessly with Fiona’s father.

  Everyone was an adult around the table, after all, and who was he to say how anyone else should or shouldn’t behave? Besides, it occurred to him, in some messed-up alternative universe that sucked much more, he was hiding out from rampaging ethnic gangs in the top bunk of a prison cell that he shared with a left-wing conspiracy nut job.

  Andrew pulled back from the dinner group a little bit and considered what his life might have been like, had Simon not come to his rescue. Perhaps he had been too untrusting of Simon’s motives and, anyway, who cared if the guy was a manipulative control freak? He did right by Andrew and had changed his life trajectory immeasurably for the better.

  Right then, as he watched Simon chatter on about international finance or something, Andrew decided to be nicer to the old geezer. He was not going to allow himself to continue to be so down in the mouth, and mentally negative, about what he considered Simon’s manipulative intrusions into his and Fiona’s lives. After all, it was Andrew that was the lodger in Simon’s domain and Fiona was his lovely, precious daughter. Of course he was protective.

  If Andrew was to be his own man he needed to apply himself in this incredibly new opportunity and start making some serious money so that he could provide for Fiona and have them both escape the clutches of the old man. Being dependent on someone and then complaining about what that someone does or doesn’t do for you was ridiculous.

  It was time for him to take charge of his life and become a better man. It was time to for him to make a mark in the world and stake a claim. He would make the most of the opportunity that Simon had offered to him. He would excel at his new job and climb the ranks. He would pay off his debts to all others and make a name and place for himself in the big, wide world. It was time, Andrew decided. It was now or never. Yes, this is now my time.

  “So, what do you think, Andrew?” Simon asked, sensing that Andrew was someplace different.

  “I agree totally,” Andrew said, to the approval of the others. Raising his glass of white wine, he directed his words towards and lifted his glass at Simon. “I want to make a toast,” he said with genuine warmth. “I want to thank the man from the UK who saved my sorry ass and gave me a new life. I want to thank Simon here for all he has done for me. I’m truly grateful and I will be forever in your debt. To Simon.”

  “To Simon,” everyone else enthusiastically repeated as they toasted the man of the moment. Caught by surprise, Simon looked embarrassed as he acknowledged Andrew’s toast.

  “You’re a good lad,” he said, as if anyone in his shoes would have done the same. “You should really be toasting your mother who obviously did a fantastic job, all on her own, it looks like.”

  “To my mother,” Andrew again raised his glass. “For all the kindness and the patience she has shown me over the years; it can’t have been easy. Thank you, mom. For everything.”

  Angela looked bashful as she was toasted by the others. “Thank you, son,” she said and Andrew could tell that she was having the time of her life. “I don’t get out that often, to places like this, anyway,” she said, as if she felt she needed to make some kind of speech. “Thank you all for such a wonderful evening. You’re such a lovely family,” she said, looking from Simon to her daughter, “and we’re both lucky to have met you both,” she said awkwardly. “In our lives,” she added clumsily.

  Fiona was happy with Andrew’s change of mood as she drove home from the restaurant. Making up her own lyrics to a song on the
radio, she felt ebulliently happy. I don’t like to sing no effed up love songs. What’s the deal with effed love songs, she sang, swaying her body to the music. I can’t help singing those messed up love songs. Smiling suggestively, with her eyes, she encouraged Andrew to join in, which he did. I wanna sing those messed up love songs. What's the deal with that? I’m falling head over heels again...

  Singing happily and goofily a mixture of the correct and incorrect lyrics of the pop song, Fiona secretly wished that they could remain as happy with each other as they were in that moment, always. “Was it the lobster or the champagne?” she asked cryptically.

  “It was the company,” Andrew answered, knowing exactly her frame of reference. As he stroked her hair, he looked at her lovingly. “Of course, the champagne and lobster did help a bit. But it was mainly you.”

  “What did I say?”

  “Wasn’t anything you said. It was your eyes. You looked at me with those deep, gorgeous, soulful eyes. That’s all it takes, pretty much, really. You look at me and I’m a goner.”

  “I should remember that,” she said as she tried to remember what her exact look might have been. “Was it this look?” she asked as she turned towards him with the distorted face of an ogre.

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” Andrew lied and smiled.

  “Or this one,” she said, again distorting her face into a horrid expression.

  “Either one of those would do it, definitely. The trick is not to make those faces too often. Be very sparing, would be my opinion,” he said and laughed.

  “You seemed like you had a good time. Toasting my father like that. I was touched.”

  “You were?”

  “It was very sweet. I know that he loved it, even if he didn’t show it so much. He’s a softie inside. But seriously, I know that he really appreciated it. He doesn’t get thanked that often. I should take a leaf out of your book, actually.”

  “You should,” Andrew teased. “We should both cut him some slack, I guess.”

  “You start work tomorrow. Are you excited?”

  “I am, as a matter of fact. Can’t imagine what it’s going to be like making serious money for a change. Yeah, I’m psyched.”

  Chapter 3

  Genuinely excited about his new work assignment, Andrew was neatly dressed in his sharp suit and ready to leave when Simon came knocking on the guest house door. “Looking sharp,” was the only thing that Simon said before they got into the car.

  “Do I need anything?” Andrew asked when he slid across his seat belt.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, a briefcase, a notepad to take notes or something?” Andrew asked nervously.

  “I think they might give you a pen and a notepad or whatever you need,” Simon answered, curbing his temptation to mock. “You’ll be fine, son,” he said paternally as he took the car out of the gate and onto the road.

  Expecting to be taken to the same offices in the skyscraper, where he had his interview, Andrew reacted with puzzlement when Simon drove to a different part of downtown LA. “Are you picking something up on the way?” he asked when Simon parked on the street in a seedier part of town.

  “Oh, this is where you’ll be working,” Simon said. “I’m dropping you off. From now on you’ll need to get yourself here either by car or bus, whatever.”

  “No problem,” Andrew said as he looked at the old building which he supposed was his new workplace. Looking like it was built in the forties when times were good, the red brick front had a certain elegance which unfortunately had eroded considerably in the decades since.

  “You understood when they told you about secrecy, right?” Simon asked with a totally serious expression on his face.

  “They didn’t say anything about secrecy, I don’t think,” Andrew answered, assuming that Simon was referring to the men at the interview.

  “Of course they did,” Simon retorted, like Andrew mustn’t have been paying attention. “Secrecy is what we’re about. Secrecy is our stock in trade. I thought you knew that already?” he asked and almost scoffed when Andrew could only proffer a clueless facial expression and a shrug of the shoulders.

  “Okay, listen up,” Simon said, looking around as if to see who might be listening, which Andrew thought was very odd considering that they were sitting in his car. “You can’t talk to anyone about what you do or who you work for or the type of work that you’re doing, understand? Under no circumstances, period,” he emphasized as if it meant life or death.

  “Okay,” Andrew answered when Simon paused as if expecting a response.

  “The work that you will be doing is very sensitive. Our clients come to us for our professionalism and our confidentiality. Fortunes have been ruined by loose talk and gossip. Loose lips sink ships; you’ve heard the expression?”

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew answered, even though he hadn’t.

  “You’ll be asked to sign confidentiality agreements as a safeguard and, trust me, you don’t want to break those agreements, you hear? Your superiors will not take kindly to any breach and that’s putting it mildly. You will talk to no one, do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew answered although he hesitated at the thought of not being able to speak to Fiona about his work. “Not even your daughter, sir?”

  “What did I just say?” Simon said, sounding a tad displeased. “No one means no one; zilch, nada, no exceptions.”

  “Understood,” Andrew then said, nodding his head in agreement as if he didn’t need to be told anymore.

  “Best of luck on your first day,” Simon then said, his hand extended, a smile on his face.

  “Thank you, sir,” Andrew said and shook his hand. Simon let go and Andrew sat there.

  “Go ahead on in, they’re expecting you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Andrew opened the door and stepped out.

  Without hesitation, Simon drove off into the early morning downtown LA traffic leaving Andrew staring ahead at the nondescript building that didn’t even have any signage or company logo on it. They could be doing anything in there, he thought to himself, now realizing that there were no windows to see into and if there used to be some they had since been bricked over with the same red brick which the building was constructed from.

  Oh, boy, he almost said aloud and hurriedly stepped to the front door.

  Pressing an old doorbell, that looked like it hadn’t been pressed in quite some time, Andrew waited for a response. Unable to hear anything when he pressed it, he wondered if it was even working. He pressed it again, several times until he finally stood back to look around for any sign of life. He hadn’t even been given a phone number and he briefly questioned whether he should stay standing there until someone entered or exited the building. He could be left standing there all morning, if that was the case.

  Deciding to try the bell one more time, he was just about to press it when the door opened. Startled, he jumped back. A young man stood looking curiously at Andrew as he held the door open. “Are you the new guy?” he asked with a pompous air of superiority.

  Taking an immediate dislike to the dude, Andrew deliberately paused before he answered. “I was told that you’d be expecting me,” Andrew said boldly. “I’ve been ringing this doorbell for like ages.”

  Taking a final look at Andrew, as if he was judging him in some way, the pompous dude finally held the door open wider. “Nobody enters the building by the front door,” he said, perhaps as an excuse or maybe even an accusation, Andrew wasn’t sure. “You’ll find your way,” he then said as he took a furtive look out into the street before closing the door. “Follow me,” he then said, walking past Andrew without introducing himself.

  “I’m Andrew,” Andrew said cordially in an attempt to start fresh without any ill-feeling or animosity.

  “Yes, we’ve been expecting you,” the guy said without turning around.

  Employees dressed in expensive suits worked in the side offices but no one seemed to be enjoying what they were
doing and no one seemed at all friendly.

  Although the red carpet and the wood paneling on the walls at least seemed like they had been changed since the opening of the building, everything else looked like it was original: the light fittings, main chandelier, side offices and smoked glass partitions. “Was this a bank at one point?” Andrew asked when he saw a huge safe that only banks would have.

  “It was a bank originally,” the dude answered as he stopped in front of an old elevator. “Not any more, obviously,” he said as he pushed the elevator button.

  “We’re going up?” Andrew asked as the doors opened.

  “Nope,” the guy said with a smirk. “Your job is in the basement.”

  Stepping out of the elevator, Andrew followed the guy through corridors stacked with boxes and boxes, presumably of files, that cluttered most of the available space. The place smelled musty and the carpet was worn. Stepping into an office, which was fitted with wall-to-wall filing cabinets all around, Andrew’s eyes lit up when he saw a lovely young woman, maybe the same age as he or perhaps a bit older. Looking colorful, lively and friendly, she stood out like a golden flowering lily in a muddy pond.

  “This is Andrew,” the guy said to the young woman whom Andrew could now see had the most beautiful blue eyes which looked especially striking against the backdrop of her jet black hair. “He’s your new slave,” he said with a smirk. “Have fun,” he then said to Andrew as he left and retraced his steps to the elevator and presumably returned back to where he came from.

  “Hi, I’m Lily,” she said with a warm smile and extended her hand.

  “Are you shitting me?” Andrew said and then his face cringed with instant regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking her hand. “Andrew. I just this second thought that your name might be like a Lily or something and then when you said it… never mind,” he then said like he wanted to start over. “First day. I’m a bit nervous, I guess.”