The Simpatico Series Box Set (3 books in 1)

by Dermot Davis

  "O-kay," Simon said like it was two words. "Lies that I told to you?" he then asked as if to clarify.

  "Yes," Fiona said firmly. "Bold-faced lies that you told in order to make me think that I was silly or insane or like I was a naive little girl with the mind of a simpleton. I believe the technical term is gas-lighting," she said boldly.

  "Alright," Simon said as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Unused to seeing his daughter be so bold and direct, he had no idea of the pent-up anger that she obviously had been secretly feeling for quite some time. "What bold-faced lies are you referring to?"

  "Well, frankly, there are so many," Fiona said, clearly relishing the turn of events and the opportunity to set the record straight. "Let's start with one of our last conversations, where you categorically denied that you had anything to do with Andrew being sent to work in that filthy basement with that girl, what's-her-face?" she asked with only thinly veiled contempt. "You remember?"

  "I think so," Simon answered as he thought back in his memory.

  "Well?" Fiona asked impatiently.

  "Well, what?"

  "You told me that you had nothing to do with the putting Andrew in a job so far away from the house that he'd have to move into Angela's house. I want to hear it from you that you did everything in your power to break up me and Andrew!" she then said, finally finding her real thoughts.

  "Oh," Simon, said uneasily, looking at Angela with a sheepish expression.

  "I can go," Angela said, feeling uneasy at the tension between the two of them.

  "Stay," Simon said, as he placed his hand on her wrist. "I don't mind if you hear... the truth," he said with a tremble in his voice. "Okay, young lady," he said as he turned to address his daughter more fully. "Yes, I did do everything in my power in order to break you two up. At the time, I didn't think Andrew was a suitable boyfriend or any kind of friend for you to have," he said bluntly. "No disrespect," he quickly said to Angela.

  "None taken," Angela said, her face pink, obviously entirely embarrassed by the situation.

  "What exactly was 'everything in your power,' that you did, to try and break us up?" Fiona inquired insistently.

  Simon, leery of where the conversation might go, looked at his daughter with a hard expression. He didn't expect her to return his glare with a steely reserve of her own. "Yes, I posted him in that particular job, for all the reasons that you suspected," he admitted, hoping to hear the end of it.

  "You deliberately put him in a job that required long hours, miles from the Palisades and, most importantly, you made sure to place him where he would be bossed around by the cutest-looking woman in the place, a young lady who was around the same age," Fiona clarified.

  "Yes," Simon admitted, his eyes dropping from her intense gaze. "I'm not proud of any of it."

  Although, feeling vindicated, Fiona didn't feel as half as pleased with her father’s confession as she had expected she would. In fact, she felt downright gutted and close to surrendering to a serious fit of uncontrolled sobbing.

  "I have changed my mind, since," Simon said to break the awfully tense silence. "I think Andrew has turned out to be a fine young man," he said, looking at Angela who gave an awkward nod and smile of agreement.

  "It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?" Fiona asked weakly. "Now that you succeeded. You did everything in your power to break us apart. Hooray for daddy!" she said sarcastically as she rose from her seat and turned heel to walk away before her tears fell in front of her father and Andrew’s mother. Simon and Angela stared after her.

  "I should go be with her," Angela said, her feelings of awkwardness unabated. "Don't worry," she said, placing her hand on Simon's. "I'm taking good care of Fiona."

  "I appreciate that, Angela," Simon said with genuine gratitude although his mind was elsewhere. "You should know," he said and paused, "it took me a while to take to Andrew but I do believe now that he's a decent sort and a good lad with a good heart. I hope to make it up to him, to them both," he said, clearly thinking aloud. "Maybe you can ask him to come visit me, when he gets the time. I'd love to tell him that face-to-face."

  "I will," Angela said as she rose from her seat. "You take care of yourself," she said and, as she was already moving away to leave, it was clear that her present concern was making sure that Fiona was alright. "We'll be back to visit. Keep the faith," she said, then hurried away.

  Despite the fact that his daughter would now most likely think of him as a manipulative tyrant of the highest order, and someone to be despised rather than admired, Simon felt oddly calm within himself. After all this time, after all of his lies and the gamesmanship, being honest with his daughter actually felt good. It felt real. He felt like he respected her enough to tell her the truth or, perhaps, more correctly, he finally respected himself enough to tell her the truth.

  Yes, she was upset with him and most definitely disappointed beyond belief, but, at the same time, she had already known, or at the very least, suspected as much. It must be a release for them both, he thought, as he was being led back to the cell block by a guard. Maybe now they could have a much better, stronger, and truer relationship, one based upon honesty and mutual respect. It had been a long time since he had felt any kind of real respect from his daughter and, in actual fact, the lack of a strong bond—such as one born of mutual respect—must have hurt her much more than it hurt him.

  Fiona would get over her initial hurt, he decided, and, in time, would appreciate his newfound honesty. Returning to the exercise yard and the brightness of the midday sun, Simon felt strangely free. Despite the fact that his physical freedom had been stolen from him, he felt like a weight was slowly being lifted from his body and being. It felt like the past number of years, spent relentlessly lying and manipulating others, had exerted a previously imperceptible stress upon his psyche. The more that he thought about it, the more that he realized that—by his own actions—he had imprisoned his own mind in an intricate web of lies and deceit.

  He had always been aware of the cumulative effect of lies, such that the telling of one lie usually entailed the telling of many more, simply in order to cover up that initial falsehood. In a way, as perverse as it now seemed in retrospect, he had become a master of the art of telling lies and had prided himself upon his inventiveness and especially his cleverness in the art of never being discovered or found out.

  Strangely, however, as Simon compared his new state of being to his old self, he could now feel a definite difference. Despite his fall from grace and his worldly lack of power and influence, within himself, he felt stronger and more in control. It would be most ironic to think that he had more control and strength within himself now as when he had sat high up in his office tower and was making decisions that affected a multitude. Perhaps endless lies could wear a person down to nothing, he considered, because, knowing from experience, once one was told, the subsequent lying could never, ever stop.

  Too distressed to drive home, Fiona gave Angela the keys to her SUV. "Do you mind?" she asked as her tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

  "Of course not, love," Angela said kindly. "Let's get home and we'll put on some coffee and relaxing music, what do you say?" she asked, thinking of what she could to help calm the young girl. "Or tea, if you'd prefer," she said, remembering the girl's penchant for herbal teas.

  "That would be nice, thank you very much," Fiona replied, not thinking of anything but her present shitty mood.

  As they pulled out and merged into regular street traffic, a nondescript American-made car with two men sitting up front watched the SUV with interest. "Target is pulling out, over," the driver said into a walkie-talkie. "Initiating pursuit, over," he said, then pulled out. Looking bored like it was their millionth time trailing a vehicle, the two rough-looking men, dressed in casual clothes, barely acknowledged each other as they followed in their car.

  "That was a strange visit, huh?" Angela eventually said, after a long silence as she drove the surface streets back to her hou
se. From her training, she knew that it was best to encourage an upset person to talk about their feelings, rather than allowing them to bottle them up inside. "Your father seems to be doing a lot of self-evaluation… in the prison," Angela said in a tentative voice, which made it clear that she felt awkward and tentative about initiating the conversation.

  "I guess," Fiona said, not knowing quite what to think. "Or maybe not."

  "How do you mean?" Angela asked as she quickly glanced over to detect her mood.

  "Maybe he's still lying, trying to get us to feel sorry for him, hoping we'll keep coming back to visit, like forever. He may be manipulating us."

  "You don't think he's being sincere?" Angela asked, shocked to think that Fiona was thinking otherwise.

  "You don't know my father, Angela," Fiona said wearily. "Turns out, I don't know him, either," she added after further reflection. "He tells so many lies, maybe he doesn't even know himself."

  "Oh, I'm sure that's not entirely true," Angela responded, hoping that it wasn't. "And even if it was, maybe it's a good thing that he's now having a change of heart, right? Even sinners can become saints; it's never too late. Remember the story of Saul on the road to Damascus?" she asked cheerfully. "He was a sinner who got struck by lightning and turned his life around to become a saint? Saint Paul the Apostle."

  "Yeah," Fiona said, more to please her than because she necessarily agreed with the woman. "We'll have to wait and see, I guess," Fiona said as with a look of relief she realized that they had turned the corner of the street towards Andrew’s mother’s house.

  As Angela parked the SUV in the narrow drive, the two men trailing her found parking on the street nearby. "Target has arrived back at house," the driver said into his walkie-talkie. "Awaiting instructions, over."

  "Sit tight, over," the reply came back on his radio. Looking from one to the other, the men both silently acknowledged that it was going to be one of those long, boring nights where they both ended up with sore bums in the morning, exhausted and feeling sick, after being dependent upon lousy fast food and caffeinated beverages to get them through the tedious hours of being forced to, "Sit tight," all night.

  "Copy that, over," the driver said while looking wearily to his partner.

  Chapter 6

  Andrew pressed the GATE OPEN button on his garage door remote and descended the grand staircase to go and open the front door. He watched as Lily drove her compact Volkswagen Bug from the street onto the drive. Looking clearly astonished, by the majesty of the mansion, she eventually parked the car by the front door. "What? No valet service?" she asked jokingly through her rolled down window. "Where should I park, your highness?" she then asked.

  "Right there is good," Andrew said to her as he walked closer.

  Cutting her engine, Lily opened the door but still couldn't tear her eyes away from the grandness of the building. "You live here?" she asked, as if there was a catch. "Seriously?"

  "Yeah," Andrew answered with a casual smile. "Seriously. Although, I've been working so much, I hardly get to spend much time here to enjoy it. This is the first Saturday I didn't have to go tearing downtown into the office."

  "You live here? All by yourself?" she then asked, still looking at the house with abject skepticism. "You're renting out a room or what?" He stared at her. It was so weird to see her again, particularly as Fiona wasn’t home. It was awkward and he almost felt guilty, even though he hadn’t done anything. Admittedly, he’d felt attracted to Lily in the past but she was an attractive girl. He hadn’t acted on that attraction, of course, he loved Fiona.

  “Well?” she asked again.

  "Do you want a tour?" he asked, smiling smugly, like he did indeed own the place. He walked inside the house and Lily followed.

  "A tour?" she asked, like it would be a huge investment of her time. "I don't think I've got that kind of stamina. Maybe I can buy the DVD from the gift shop on the way out," she joked as she walked towards the open front door. "Don't suppose you've got something to drink? I'm parched," she said as she craned her neck to look up at the twin marble staircases and assorted statuary that adorned the high alcove windows.

  "This place is seriously sick, dude," she said as Andrew passed her on the way to the kitchen.

  "Water? Soda? Beer?" Andrew asked.

  "Yeah, sure, a cold beer sounds great," Lily said as she checked out a nearly photo-realistic mural of ancient Egypt. "What's with the Egyptian theme all over the place?"

  "That's where it all started," Andrew answered from the kitchen.

  "Where what all started?" Lily said out loud to herself.

  "If you brought your swimsuit, we could take a dip in the pool," Andrew said as he returned with two cold beers. "Or soak in one of the three hot tubs, if you'd prefer."

  "Dude, I so totally thought you were joking about the swimsuit," she said as she took one of the beers. "Of course I didn't bring it."

  "Not a problem. There's a decent selection you can borrow from, if you're up for it."

  "Is the pool heated?" she asked Andrew, thinking more seriously about whether or not she would like to take a dip with him. She tried to decide if he was interested in her. Was he giving her mixed signals? Andrew didn’t answer right away; he had just taken a sip of his drink.

  She looked around. The place was swank and probably the nicest home that she’d ever been in. Some of the furniture appeared to made of real gold and precious stones and exotic hard words. The art, original oil paintings, sculptures, and statuary, were both incredibly beautiful as well as obviously valuable.

  "Of course," Andrew replied before he took another swig of his beer.

  "Sure," she said, “I mean okay.” She looked around and felt lost in the large mansion. "You probably have a kick-ass pool table, as well."

  "You know, that's exactly what I want to get next," he said, like he appreciated someone having had the same exact thought as he. "I'm so going to get a pool table."

  They made their way through one of the many side doors that led out to the grounds and Andrew imagined how the house must look through Lily’s eyes. Clearly impressed by its grandeur, her head turned this way and that. She could barely focus upon walking straight. Buoyed by her reaction to the awesomeness of the mansion and, for the first time since shortly after he had moved in, Andrew felt proud of the place.

  "Here's all the swimsuits," he said as he opened one of the huge wicker baskets and indicated the items inside. "Towels are in here," he said, indicating another wicker basket. "There's also a fully equipped gym, should you feel like working out," he suggested casually, while Lily selected a one-piece swimsuit. "And a movie screening room with a top-of-the-line kettle popcorn maker that makes the best homemade popcorn."

  "Yeah," Lily answered enthusiastically. "To heck with the workout, I'd go for the movie and a huge tub of popcorn any day. What movies have you got?"

  "There's a huge collection of DVDs or we could stream from the net."

  "Wow, dude, you have the best life."

  "I know, right?" Andrew said with a grin when they got to the edge of the immaculately clean pool. "It's great to have someone to share it with," he said, unaware of the sadness in his voice.

  "Oh, crap," Lily said with a crestfallen expression.

  "What?"

  "There's no lifeguard on duty," she joked.

  "It's his day off," Andrew joked back. "I gave the masseuse and the cabana boy the day off, as well, sorry."

  "The cabana boy I can live with but the masseuse?" she said, like he had seriously messed up. "I could have totally worked that dude today, all day," she said with an endearing smile.

  "We'll have to make do," Andrew said, looking around and wondering to himself if he should change at the guest house or behind a bush, gorilla-style.

  "Turn around and I'll change," she said as she whipped off her tee shirt, displaying a sexy lace push-up bra beneath.

  "Oh, sure," Andrew said and blushed, quickly turning around. "You turn round and I'll do th
e same," he said over his shoulder, stripping off his clothes and grabbing his trunks. "You decent?" he called out, once he had changed into his swimsuit.

  "Just a sec," she said as she took off her necklace and carefully placed it on top of her rolled up street clothes. "Okay," she said. They both turned around at the same time.

  "Hey," Lily said quickly, getting his attention. "Do they allow diving in the pool?"

  "No running, no diving, no splashing," Andrew said like he was a strict person-in-charge.

  "Dude, you are such a buzzkill," Lily said as she suddenly pushed him backwards into the pool. "Take that, uptight pool attendant," she said with a mock sneer as he hit the water with a splash. “Cannon-ball” she shouted and jumped into the air above the water while grabbing her knees together and cannon-balled right into the pool, splashing Andrew just as he surfaced and opened his eyes. "Yes!" she shouted with glee as she jumped up above the water for a lung-full of air.

  Spending the time tossing a ball to each other, diving for small rocks that they placed around the bottom of the pool, and generally cavorting around, Andrew had the best time. Lily, too, enjoyed herself but she seemed like she was the kind of person who decided to have fun no matter where she went or with whom. When not searching for Fiona, Andrew had been so focused upon work that he’d had little time left in his day for more frivolous pursuits.

  Wondering when would be the best time to ask her why she had called, and had asked to meet, Andrew decided not to force things too soon. Leaving it to her to raise the subject, of whatever it was that she couldn't tell him over the phone, he would enjoy her company for as long as the good times lasted. Even though he didn't consider her as anything other than a friend, she was fun to be around and had a generally positive effect upon him.

  Not that he was comparing the two young women, yet Lily brought out a different side of him than Fiona did. Perhaps because it felt like a more playful yet superficial side, he wasn't sure if it was a side of himself that he would always want to live with, at least, indefinitely. It was like the person he would become when he went to a party with his buds. Everything and everybody was fun for the evening but who would want be stuck playing the party animal forever? That could get boring, real fast.