Connections

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Come on, Lance. We gotta hurry,” Ashli said, pulling on his arm.

  “Everything left in there is Zoe’s. I’ve already packed up my stuff,” Maggie said. She just wanted to get out of there, and she never wanted to see Lance or Ashli again. She’d never liked them in the first place—they were Zoe’s friends, not hers.

  “That’ll make it easier then. All right, let’s do this.”

  Maggie and Rob grabbed the last of her boxes and threw them in the truck before Lance had an opportunity to say anything else. They pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street for a few blocks, but then Rob pulled over and cut the engine. Maggie’s stomach was in knots. She knew what was coming next.

  “Listen, Maggie. I don’t have any right to pry into your life, and I know that. We’re just dating . . . sort of . . . and you’re entitled to keep whatever secrets you want to keep. But I did just get dragged into this, and I think it would be really nice if I knew what was going on.”

  Maggie pulled in a deep breath. Rob was trying to keep his voice level, but she knew he was frustrated, and probably a little bit mad, too.

  “So, I told you that my parents were drug addicts.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  She looked out the window while she told him about going to live with Zoe when she was in high school, and everything that had happened since. “I didn’t know until a few months ago that Zoe’s boyfriend was a dealer, and I begged her to dump him,” she said. “She wouldn’t do it, and I didn’t have any evidence—I’d overheard a few conversations, but nothing that would hold up in court. He was already on the police’s radar by this point, so it’s not like they didn’t know about him. Last week, things came to a head, and they sealed off our apartment to search it for his stash, which he said he’d hidden somewhere in our place. I don’t know if he actually did or not—the police didn’t say. All I know is this—I thought Zoe was paying our rent, I didn’t know she was involved, I’ve never touched drugs once in my life, and this whole thing had just been so hard.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she talked. “Zoe was my best friend, the only person I had in my whole life, and she wouldn’t listen to me and now she’s in jail.”

  Rob didn’t say anything. He just started the engine again and pulled back out onto the road. When he pulled up at her new apartment, she didn’t ask how he knew where it was—he probably stole that information from Andrew too—and started carrying her things inside. Then he stood in her doorway, thumbs hooked through his belt loops.

  “Need a ride back to your car?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She wasn’t actually fine—she had no idea how she was going to get back to the hotel. Maybe a taxi. But she wasn’t about to ask him. He vibrated with emotion, and she knew he was at the end of his rope. “Thanks for your help.”

  He nodded once, then left, and she sat down on the couch, all the strength gone from her knees. She should have been more proactive about working with the police, but she’d been trying to protect Zoe, who she thought needed protecting. Until she found out she was wrong. She should have told Rob everything from the start, but she was protecting herself, and it all came out anyway. There were so many things she could have done differently, so many ways she could have handled this that would have been smoother, more right, possibly more ethical . . . but ethical to whom? She’d done the best she could, and at the time, she hadn’t seen another way. Now, looking at it through Rob’s eyes . . .

  He would never want to speak to her again. She was sure of it.

  She sat on her couch until the sun went down and the room became dark. That was a long time to spend thinking about her life and chastising herself for every choice she’d ever made, but her brain just wouldn’t stop spinning along that track. Finally, she stood up, turned on the lights, and dragged her boxes into the bedroom. She now had all her clothes, but as she pulled them out and started to hang them up, she realized that these were the clothes of a life she no longer wanted to live. They belonged to a person she didn’t want to be anymore. She was a manager now, not an entry-level worker, and she should be dressing more professionally.

  She went through and pulled out the few blouses and slacks and skirts she owned, then sifted through everything else, throwing out most of her jeans and many of her yoga pants, only keeping enough for casual weekends and lounging around at home. Her flip-flops went, along with her ratty slippers. She didn’t have tons of money to spend on a new wardrobe, but what she did get would reflect the self-confidence she was working on. No one would respect her if she didn’t respect herself, and it was time she got to work on that.

  And if Rob still didn’t come around . . . well, that was a sign of his character, not hers. She knew she was telling the truth, and if he couldn’t see it, oh, well. It would be a shame, but a shame he created, not her.

  Chapter Seven

  Rob drove around for an hour after he dropped Maggie off. What had just happened? One minute, they were sharing the most incredible kiss he’d ever experienced, and the next, he was helping her get her things out of an apartment she’d shared with a drug user under threat of having her things tossed into the street by a landlord who looked like he could bench press Rob’s truck fifty times if he wanted to. Rob couldn’t wrap his head around it. Who was Maggie really, and what kind of weird story had he wandered into?

  He didn’t know where he was going—he just drove. He’d been listening to the radio, but he flipped it off when all he could find was news and traffic reports. When he finally parked and looked up, he saw that he’d automatically driven to Griffin’s apartment. His subconscious knew him pretty well—he needed to talk to a friend.

  He knocked on the door, hoping Griffin was home, and was welcomed in by a smiling Tabs. “Hey there! Come on in.”

  He thanked her and took a seat on the couch. Griffin put down the glass of ice water he was holding and looked at him. “What’s up? You look pretty rough.”

  “I don’t know what’s up, actually. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

  Tabs handed Rob a glass of his own, then sat down next to Griffin. “What do you mean?”

  Rob exhaled. “So, you know Maggie? New head housekeeper?”

  “Um, yeah. That’s pretty much been established,” Griffin replied.

  “Sorry. I’m just frazzled.” Rob took a sip of his water. “I took her out to lunch, I kissed her in the parking lot, and then I helped her get her things from her old apartment and take them to her new place. And I met some of her loser druggie friends and found out that she was months behind on her rent, and that’s why she was thrown out of her apartment.”

  Tabs blinked. “There’s got to be more to the story than that.”

  “That’s the thing—I don’t know. She says she’s never touched drugs and that she had no idea the rent was so far behind, but I’m standing there feeling like an idiot while her landlord is going on and on about his rights and how he hasn’t taken them to court, and the whole thing is just crazy.”

  Griffin shook his head. “I think you need to go back and talk to that girl.”

  “I know, I should. I just . . . my brain isn’t working right. What do I say? How do I find out the truth?”

  Tabs leaned forward. “You said you kissed her.”

  Heat immediately rose in Rob’s cheeks. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why?”

  He blushed even more. “What do you mean, why? That’s what people do when they’re attracted to each other.”

  “So you’re attracted to her.”

  “Yes. I just said that.”

  “Just making sure I understand. So, you’re attracted to her, but you don’t trust her, and you think she’s a druggie?”

  “That’s not what I meant. I kissed her because I was attracted to her, but we also had a moment—you know, a moment—and now I feel like everything’s changed.”

  “Everything’s changed . . . because you know more about her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ta
bs glanced at Griffin. He shrugged. “He’s your friend—don’t look at me.”

  “I thought he was our friend,” she protested. “And you’ve known him longer.”

  “I’ve known him longer, but you actually hung out with him and stuff before I did.”

  She scowled. “Whatever.” She turned back to Rob. “Don’t mind us. We’re just arguing over who has to tell you what a dork you’re being. Or maybe, who gets to tell you—not sure yet.”

  “It’s okay. I already know I’m being a dork.” Rob sipped more water, then set the glass on the side table. “If my feelings are genuine, then what happened at her apartment shouldn’t matter, right? But what if she’s lying about everything, and my feelings are lying too? And how do I know the difference?”

  “Not too long ago, a very wise man told me that I should talk to the woman I love and tell her how I feel. Now I’m engaged to marry that woman, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Griffin said. “Shouldn’t you take your own advice and go talk to her? You’re probably not in love yet, but it sounds to me like you’ve got some strong feelings invested here, and if you don’t talk it out, how are you going to know?”

  “I just keep thinking about Dinah and the time we wasted trying to hang on to a relationship that wasn’t meant to be,” Rob replied.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Tabs held up both hands. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Dinah. Why are you even bringing her up?”

  “Probably because he doesn’t want another failed relationship to add to his list,” Griffin answered for him.

  “But Maggie isn’t Dinah! The two situations are nothing alike.”

  “They’re alike because they both represent failure, and Rob doesn’t like failure,” Griffin explained.

  “Okay, you can stop analyzing me now.” Rob shook his head. “You two really need a hobby.”

  “We have a hobby. We like to analyze our friends,” Tabs replied. “So, if my esteemed colleague is correct, you are skittish about this relationship with Maggie because of what happened with Dinah. However, if I’m correct, they’re not related at all, and you’re just being a dork.” She paused. “You’re actually being a dork even if they are related, so I win either way.”

  “I don’t think that’s fair,” Griffin objected.

  “It might not be fair, but it’s a fact. Regardless of his reasons, his behavior at this present time is that of a dork, and it cannot be disputed.”

  “I’ll give you that. It’s the concept of you winning and me losing that I dislike.”

  “Just because I’m winning doesn’t mean you’re losing.”

  “But isn’t there a loser whenever there’s a winner? And since I’m your competitor, doesn’t that automatically mean that the loser is me?”

  “Good grief, you two.” Rob shook his head. “Can we please get back to what we were talking about? I need some help!”

  “Yes, you definitely need help,” Tabs said solemnly. “We’re only qualified to help you so much—you’ll need a professional for the rest. But let’s break this down. You say you like this girl.”

  “Yes, I really do.” Rob pulled in a breath. “I might even be falling for her.”

  “That’s important. Don’t lose sight of that. Now, at what point did you stop falling for her?”

  Rob thought about it. “I haven’t stopped. I’m just worried now.”

  “Ah ha! This is important. Your feelings haven’t actually changed.” Tabs nodded like she’d just solved the entire problem. “It’s your thoughts that have gotten in your way.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably right. But let me ask you this. What if you found out all of a sudden that Griffin was mixed up with drugs in some way? Wouldn’t that change things for you?”

  “First, I’d ask him what was going on. Then I’d listen. The thing is, Rob, you’ve got to be willing to believe her. Instead, you sound ready to believe the worst.”

  “It just caught me off guard. I had no idea how to react.”

  “And so your natural reaction was . . .?”

  “I took her home and left.”

  Tabs blinked. “You left? Without talking it out?”

  “I just left.”

  She turned to Griffin. “He’s your friend. You deal with this.”

  Griffin chuckled. “Listen, dude. You said the law was involved—has she been arrested? What did the police say?”

  “Her friend and her friend’s boyfriend are in jail, but Maggie was just asked to get her stuff out of the apartment.”

  “So, that right there tells you that there’s no evidence that Maggie did anything wrong. The police aren’t charging her with anything—doesn’t that mean something?”

  Rob nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

  “So, get out of my house and go talk to her.”

  Rob stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thanks, you two. I’m sorry for dropping by like this—I should have called first.”

  “No worries. But listen—you’ve got to let us know what happens.” Griffin flicked his eyes at Tabs. “I can wait, but she’ll be calling me every five seconds to find out if I’ve heard from you, and you don’t want to put me through that.”

  “No, I’ll just call Rob directly. Some constant peer pressure might be needed here,” Tabs said.

  “I’ll let you know.” Rob left, shutting the door behind him, and stood for a moment before walking the rest of the way to the truck. He’d go talk to Maggie, and this time, he’d be willing to listen and believe. First, he’d shower, and then he’d grab some flowers. He was going to do this right.

  He had just climbed in his truck when he got a phone call. He picked it up when he saw that it was Jimmy.

  “Mr. Rob, Mr. Rob, help. Oh, it’s so bad.”

  “What’s the matter, Jimmy?”

  “Can you come to the hotel?” The young man was crying so hard, Rob almost couldn’t understand him. “I need help!”

  “Of course. I’m on my way right now.”

  Rob tossed his phone on the seat beside him and pulled out, his heart rate increasing a little bit. Jimmy was always pretty mellow—something really awful must have happened to upset him this much.

  When he got to the hotel, he jumped out and was met on the front lawn by Jimmy and his mother, Mrs. Sturgis. She had her arm tightly around Jimmy’s shoulders. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his eyes were rimmed with red.

  “Hey, Jimmy. What’s going on?”

  “Just come look.” Jimmy led the way over to one of the flower beds. Someone had stepped down on the cement curb and left a footprint. It wasn’t accidental—there were several footprints all along the length of the curb.

  “Oh, wow. That’s not good.” Rob bent down and touched the cement. On a job like this, it would take the mixture a few days to harden up enough to remove the forms. The forms were still there—whoever had done this had placed their foot sideways to ruin the top of the concrete completely.

  “Do you have any idea who did this?” Rob asked, looking up at Jimmy and then at Mrs. Sturgis.

  “No. But someone doesn’t like us,” Jimmy said. “They want to ruin what they’re doing.”

  “My guess is that they’re just kids who think they’re being funny,” Rob replied. He looked at the footprint again. It wasn’t a child’s shoe, but it could very well belong to a teenager. “I’ll go talk to Andrew, and I’ll ask Danny and Mack if they noticed anything, all right? And we’ll fix this.” The concrete wasn’t wet when this had happened—it would have been mostly set, and that meant there would be no smoothing it out as a simple solution. They’d have to redo the work, and it was already an extra project added on at the last minute. He wasn’t going to let Jimmy down, though. The boy had his heart set on this, and he was going to get his nice flower beds.

  Rob entered the hotel and walked over to the office. Andrew wasn’t there—huh. He pulled out his cell and placed a quick call. “Hey, Andrew. Are you nearby?”

  “Just heading ther
e now. Needed to meet with Tony about a few things. Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah. Nothing major, but enough to be annoying. See you when you get here.”

  Rob slid his phone back in his pocket and went to find Danny and Mack. Neither had seen anything, and they both said they’d get to work on repairing the curbs immediately. The flowers would be coming soon, the hotel would be opening soon—everything was supposed to be happening soon. Rob passed a hand down his face. They were all working as hard as they could, and Mack and Danny would be staying all night to get those curbs done. What else could they do to make this turn out like it should by their deadline?

  When Andrew arrived, he had Tony, his lawyer, with him. “Hey, Rob,” Tony said, reaching out to shake his hand. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good. Haven’t seen you around here for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ve been in court most of the time, but I finally won my case and decided to come check on things at the Brody.” He glanced around as though looking for someone. Rob suspected he was searching for Tabs. He’d been a good sport when Tabs chose Griffin over him, but he imagined some hurt feelings still lingered beneath the surface—it was only natural.

  “What’s going on, Rob?” Andrew asked.

  Rob explained what had happened with the flower beds, and how upset Jimmy had been.

  “When did this happen?” Andrew asked.

  “I think it must have been during the night. We’ve had people in and out of the building all day—I can’t imagine someone could have gotten away with it in broad daylight.”

  “But no one noticed it until now?”

  “We’ve been working inside, and I haven’t walked around the grounds at all. Just back and forth up the front and side.”

  Andrew balled his hands into fists, then relaxed them. “I don’t understand why someone would do that. Did they know they were being malicious, or did they just think they were being funny?”

  “No way to know.”

  “How’s Jimmy now?”

  “I promised him that we’d fix it, and his mother took him home. They’re going to make macaroni and cheese together.”