by Jamie Knight
The staff looked kind of like they were in a cult. All of them were dressed in matching white slacks and tight tee shirts. All the women were impossibly beautiful— I could see that Kora fit right in— and the guys looking like well shorn Vikings. I got a strong sense of prejudicial hiring practices.
I went up to the reception desk and tried to look casual. There were three receptionists working right then, likely to make sure there was no waiting. I approached the first one, who looked up. Her gold name tag said Sienna in black letters and also marked her out as being in training.
I wondered if she was replacing Kora. I sort of doubted the staff had a huge turnover. The tee shirt gave a generous view of her quite impressive chest. I kept my gaze firmly on her chocolate brown eyes.
"Hello, welcome," Sienna said, in the pleasantly vacant tone all service sector employees are trained to use, "how may I service you?"
Her desk mares stifled laughter. I was too focused on my mission to take much notice.
"I mean, how can I help?" Sienna corrected, a hue of bright crimson touching her pretty cheeks.
"I know this sounds odd but I am looking for someone. I think she works here."
"Not that odd, sir," Sienna said politely, "what is this person's name?"
"Kora Evans," I said.
After some impressively swift typing on her computer terminal, Sienna came up with the appropriate info.
"She isn't here right now. She is a trainee masseuse and only here for certain hours during training."
"Do you have a contact for her?" I asked.
"Of course."
"Can I have it?" I asked, trying to be patient.
"That depends on who you are."
"A question philosophers have yet to answer," I said, feeling a bit naughty.
"No, I-I mean what is your name?" she asked, seeming confused.
"Oh, I see," I said feigning enlightenment, "my name is Logan."
"First name or last name?" Sienna asked.
I realized later that this would have been a great time to lie. Say that my last name was Logan and my first name was John. But I wasn't really thinking that way at the time. I really just wanted to be there for Kora and our baby.
"First name," I said.
"Could you spell that?" Sienna asked, going completely by the book.
"L-o-g-a-n," I said, resisting the urge to slam my head into the desk out of sheer frustration.
Sienna did some more things, likely looking up who she was allowed to give Kora's contact information to.
"Sorry," she said, scanning the screen, "you're not on the list of -"
"Sienna, shut up."
Sienna and I looked over to the receptionist her left. The Latin term is "sinister" for a reason.
"What is your last name, sir?" the inquisitor asked, staring daggers at me.
Again, a great place to have lied, but I was so obvious by that point that she would have likely seen right through me.
"Parker."
"You have to go," the inquisitor said, "now."
But I didn't go. Not out of rebellion but surprise. I honestly didn't understand what she was taking about. The receptionist on the right looked something up on her computer.
"Sienna, come with me," she said.
"O-okay," Sienna said, looking from me to her desk mate, appearing almost as confused as I felt.
The receptionist on the right was leading her away like I was some kind of dangerous pervert. The receptionist on the left put her hand on the receiver of her phone.
"You've got ten seconds and I am calling the cops," she said.
"I-"
"Ten, nine, eight -"
I was through the door before she got to seven. There was once a time I would have acted like an asshole. Asked the receptionist if she knew who I was. And if she didn't, I would have pointed out that my grandpa had golfed with the police commissioner and dined with most of the judges on the local circuit.
I would have just needed to mention his name in conjunction with mine and most of the cops on the city force would have just walked away. A few of the newcomers trying to do everything right or old war horses who liked to go by the book might have taken me in, but I would have been home in time for dinner.
I just didn't have the energy anymore. I was pretty fucking dismayed that Kora had apparently told her co-workers such bad things about me that they were prepared to call the cops if I showed up.
"Any luck, sir?" Sarah asked as I got into the back of the limo.
She had really only tacked the "sir" on the end as a matter of procedure. I may be paying her, but we had long ago gone past the usual employee-boss relationship. She had driven for my grandpa and so I had known her for years.
She also knew about most of what had happened with grandpa and dad. She didn't say anything, being far too tactful for that, but she knew. It was king of strange but, other than Kristen, Sarah was the closest thing I had to a real friend. It was probably why she didn't mind me calling her up three hours before her shift started today for a "special assignment."
I had tried to pay her extra, but she had refused. I guessed she knew what it was about and was willing to work pro bono. She likely knew what happened to bring Kristen around so quickly a few months before, and that no doubt played a role in her decision.
"Not at all."
"Not the right place?" she asked, starting up the limo.
"It was; that wasn't the problem. She wasn't there and there is apparently some kind of black mark on me. The person I was talking to was nice, if a bit frustrating; she was in training, but the harpies on either side of her were total bitches. Sorry."
"It's cool," Sarah said, even though I had seen her flinch at the word.
"They saw something on the computer and threatened to call the cops, but not before shepherding the attractive young assistant away like I was going to whip out my cock and jerk off on her. Again, pardon my language. I just can’t fucking believe this."
"Wow, what did you do to Kora?" Sarah asked.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I know I screwed up by basically throwing her out of my room after we had slept together."
"Literally?" Sarah asked.
"Yeah, like I said, it was a major fuck up. I have no illusions about that. But I don't think I did anything to warrant her doing that."
"Maybe she didn't tell them to kick you out if you showed up," Sarah offered. "Maybe Kora just told them she didn't want to talk to you and they reacted in their own way."
"Overreacted in their own way," I said, still a bit sore about it, based on Sienna's look of confusion and fear more than anything.
"Right," Sarah agreed.
I had to admit she had a point. Though that still didn't get me any closer to Kora. I got out my phone and called Kristen.
"I did what you said," I said soon as she picked up.
"Well, that's a hell of an opening."
"Please don't try to be funny, dumpling," I said, "I don't think I can handle it."
"What happened?"
"She wasn't there and I had to get out before I was thrown out under police escort," I said.
"Shit."
"No, it's true," I said.
"What was that you said about being funny?"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist," I said, smiling for the first time in what felt like months.
"No, no, it's nice to hear you getting back to your old self. The doctor said it could take a while."
"I'm okay," I said, "though I would be better if I could see Kora. Even just to tell her I love her before properly saying goodbye. I have always hated this 'ghosting' shit."
"This is partly my fault," Kristen said.
"How -"
"Listen, do you trust me?"
"Well, you did save my life twice."
"Stop goofing around."
"I'm not; you did and I think that merits some trust. Besides which, I don't really have a choice that I can see. I really need to see Kora and have no via
ble way of doing so."
"Yeah, that's what I figured," Kristen said.
"So, what is this cunning plan of yours, Bal-?"
"Call me Baldrick and I'll slap you the next time I see you," Kristen warned.
"Wouldn’t dream of it, dumpling."
"I have a plan; let's just leave it at that for now."
“Alright then,” I said, because clearly I had no other choice but to let my little sister take care of this mess.
Hopefully.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kora
Over the next week, I got to know what the baby really liked. Unfortunately, harp music turned out to be one of them. I could hardly get through a massage without her kicking like she was in a karate tournament.
I would rub my belly to try and calm her, but it only worked about seven times out of ten. I had thought about asking David if we could change the repertoire but I was trying not to rock the boat. I didn't have the job yet and I wasn't sure about what David would think about having an unwed, single mother on staff, especially since I needed a maternity leave first. He could be very traditional in some ways.
I finished the client I was working on and went to walk around the staff area, massaging my belly with both hands, trying to get her to go back to sleep. I was in the process of doing this when Sienna came in with a bouquet of flowers.
I could tell from a distance what they were and recognized it immediately as an apology bouquet. I wasn't quite sure what she thought she had to apologize for.
There was a bit of tension when I first came back because she had basically taken my place but it was entirely on her end. I had left by choice, to pursue the masseuse training, and of course the spa needed someone else.
I just hoped she was up to the job. I had told her as much when I first noticed her uneasiness around me.
“These came for you,” she said, holding out the flowers.
“Thanks,” I said, giving them a sniff.
“Is she kicking again?” Sienna asked, noticing my hands on my belly.
“Yeah, you want to feel?” I asked.
“Really?”
“Sure.”
Sienna cautiously put her hand on my belly, like I might fall over if she pushed against me too hard.
“Wow,” she said quietly.
Sienna went back to take her spot at the reception desk as I pulled the card from bouquet and opened it. I recognized the handwriting right away. I had seen it hundreds of times in school notebooks and signature lines and ill advised, adolescent graffiti runs.
Had it been anyone else I would have crumpled the note and thrown it and the flowers directly into the garbage without a second thought. Not in this case, though. Kristen and I had a history together and I still had a real soft spot for her.
Even after all that had happened, I still loved her in that way only true friends do. It also didn't hurt that the note was written in the most begging terms the written word was able to get across.
She wanted me to come over so we could talk. Despite my common sense screaming at me not to go, to just make a clean break and not risk being pulled back into the same old bullshit, I felt myself relenting. Despite all of that, all those good points and arguments, I decided it was worth it to at least hear her out. The baby started kicking in agreement.
It might have taken her a while to start moving around in there, but once she did, she had barely stopped. She was a force to be reckoned with, and apparently, she wanted me to see what Kristen had to say.
In a world were few things are certain, it can be nice to know that there are some things that don't change. Kristen's address being one of them. It had been exactly the same since she had left home at 16, driven away by the same circumstances that had driven Logan into the darkness.
Her dad had been nice and kept giving her an allowance until she was able to get a job to support herself. Which, fortunately for her, happened before her dad lost all his money, getting cut out of the family business and any of the family money, similar to the way Kristen had.
I thought about all of this on the drive over to her building.
“Don't Look Back In Anger” was playing through the speakers; it was one of the songs I'd found that calmed the baby. But maybe that was just because it calmed me.
I had actually been considering Gallagher as a possible name, as an homage to my Irish roots, but then I found out she was a girl. Then I heard the name Brigitte and changed my mind. My daughter was going to Brigitte Freyja Evans. No one was going to mess with her on the playground.
I ran the buzzer and waited, part of me still wanting to run, the fact that this was now physically difficult being one of the main reasons I didn't. The door buzzed and I went in out of the chill.
“Hey,” Kristen said.
“Hey,” I agreed.
We hugged awkwardly, Kristen trying to mind my baby bump, not realizing it was fine to touch it. It wasn’t as fragile as most people who had never been pregnant seemed to assume. I knew that due to bumping into the massage table.
“Please, sit down,” Kristen said, gesturing to the couch.
I went over and sat down, bracing onto the arm to support myself on the way down so I didn't land too hard. Kristen sat in a chair near the couch. This was when Logan came in from the kitchen, sipping something bright green from a tumbler.
“What the hell?” I demanded, doing my best to get up in order to storm out dramatically.
Fuck.
Of course, just when I had decided to trust her, Kristen had to go and betray me like this. What was with her incessant urge to set me up with her brother long after I had said no? It was the opposite of how high school had been.
“You're looking well,” Logan said, looking at my baby bump as he sat down on the couch beside me.
He seemed really happy about the baby, which took me by surprise.
“Please,” Kristen said, on the verge of tears, “I want you to hear me out. Both of you.”
The “both of you” certainly got my attention and I sat back down, for no other reason than to see how it played out. Logan raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued by that part as well. But he soon turned back to me as if he had more pressing things on his mind.
“It's mine, isn't it?” Logan asked.
“Logan, please,” Kristen said, raising a hand, “I have something to tell you. Both of you.
I lied. Back in high school, I was so desperate to keep you apart that I lied. Logan, Kora really wanted you. Kora, Logan loved you. He told me as much. Said he would never need another girl if he had you. Which we can agree is saying something, considering his reputation.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I agreed.
I was still letting it all sink in.
I guess it explained a lot.
At the same time, I wasn’t too incredibly surprised to hear it. It seemed to go with the rest of the story as I had always known it, having lived it.
She had thought he was bad for me. And bad for our friendship, because he was taking me away from her, all to maybe break my heart, which she understandably thought could happen, ruining things for our friendship and my heart. Of course she had lied.
“Anyway, that's it. I was a lying bitch and the cause of all this trouble all this time,” Kristen said, as if thinking we hadn’t heard her.
“I need a moment to think about this,” I said.
I may have been able to understand, but that didn’t mean I was ready to forgive.
“Right,” Logan said, starting to get up.
He looked quite a bit more upset about it than I was feeling.
“And to talk to Logan,” I said, taking him by the wrist.
He immediately sat back down, as I added, “in private.”
“Right, of course,” Kristen said, heading out of the room.
“Why did you ditch me like that?” I asked, when Kristen was out of earshot.
“Ah, well I didn't. At least not deliberately. After what happened the last time you
stayed over, I went on a long sailing trip with my dad. I didn't have service on the boat. Not at all. It didn't even register missed calls. I was surprised, to be honest, but I also wasn’t. We hadn't had the best parting, I know. When I tried to contact you and you didn't respond and then changed your number, I got the hint. Or what I assumed was the hint.”
“Oh,” I said, realizing I had made the same assumption. “But what was that about? Throwing me out like that? It really hurt.”
“I'm sure it did,” he said, taking my hand, “but I swear I didn't mean to. I had an appointment with my dad. We were going to go over some new plans for the business; he wants to open it up and appeal to a more general clientele, not just the super rich. There was another guy coming to meet us, who was interested in our services. We were going to talk with him about business plans and then plan the sailing trip we were taking. It was an attempt at bonding, there being a lot of time to make up for.”
“I see,” I said, trying to process it all.
“I was so surprised I’d fallen asleep. I had meant to prep for the meeting with the potential client more. I knew my dad would be upset if it looked like I blew him off just to have sex. Plus, I just didn't feel right having him find my high school girlfriend there to boot. It might have been a bit confusing and a lot to explain to him right then. But I know now that I should have explained it more to you, as we were hurrying to get ready.”
“Girlfriend, huh?” I teased.
It was the only part I was focused on, now that I knew there was an innocuous explanation for the rest of it.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said.
“Don't be.”
I grabbed him, pulled him to me and kissed him. I was still mad but mostly at myself for making such an assumption, even though it made sense at the time.
Logan had acted badly in high school but not for no reason and that really wasn't who he was anymore. The kindness I thought I had seen in him since then; the thoughtfulness. It was all real. He really did want me and dammit if I didn't still want him!
“Oh, sorry!” Kristen said, walking back in during our make-out session.
“No, I am sorry,” Logan said, “it's your house, dumpling.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said, realizing it must have been somewhat awkward for her.
