Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

  “Yeah, she’s not injured. She’s just sad.”

  “About what? Did I scare her? I wasn’t gonna drop Karito.”

  “Nothing to do with you,” Allison said, and a hurricane of Costa Rican invectives filled the bathroom. At least the woman wasn’t crying anymore.

  “Well then, why not let Karito in? I’ll take Zach.”

  Allison just stared at him

  “Fine.” He turned to Karito. “Mamacita’s fine, Karito. She had to pee very bad.” The little girl didn’t look convinced. “You and I are heading next door and see if Rose can make you a milk shake.” He reached down and the small hand wiggled into his, the round shiny top of Karito’s head tipping back and those solemn blue eyes blinked at him. The trust in that look floored him. Suddenly, the world seemed a very large place and this little girl a very precious and vulnerable being. Ben reached down and picked her up again, this time, holding her on his hip.

  “Come on, pretty girl, let’s give your momma some time to herself.” From inside the bathroom a new round of sobbing began. Feeling useless, Ben slipped out the door with his fragile cargo.

  Sunlight in the afternoon on a fall day has an delicate quality all its own. As if, any minute, the whole city would tip right into the darkness of winter and the changing of the year. One year older. New York and all its inhabitants were about to age. So much time had been stolen from him already, so much of himself lost.

  Beside him, Sophia didn’t pause as they left the diner. Maybe prosecutors on the fast track didn’t bother considering the way light changed. For Doug’s part, he could understand. He’d never given a rat’s ass about such things before. He looked over at Sophia.

  “What matters to you?” he asked.

  “What?” she said.

  He smiled at that. “You always answer a question with a question.”

  “Maybe that’s all that matters to me—answers.” She grinned up at him, so obviously pleased with her own cheekiness. She’d turned the tables on him. “What matters to you?”

  You, he thought. But that was ridiculous.

  “Money.” There, that was an honest answer, but he hadn’t managed to give one as deep as he’d hoped she’d give him. He could do better. “Time.” There, that was more to the heart of things.

  She looked at him and raised her eyebrows, as if to say, huh. “Some people say they’re the same thing.” She cocked her head. “Time is money and all that.”

  “Trust me, time is definitely not money,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Around them, people hurried along, passing them.

  “Do you always walk this slow?” she said. She was a leggy woman, and he was asking her to shorten her natural stride by shuffling along. Frankly, he didn’t want to leave her. All that was in front of him was a dusty, empty apartment and the chore of moving into Tommy’s too bright, too friendly building. Doug’s new, pedantic abode, with its painted walls and tasteful white woodwork felt as solidly middle class as Tommy’s parents’ house had been.

  It was funny. Doug only felt comfortable among the very poor or the very wealthy. He shrugged and gave her the truth.

  “I like being in your company.”

  She looked at him. “You shouldn’t.”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Aren’t I the bad guy?”

  “The bad guy?” He laughed at that. “If anything, you’re the good guy—or gal. The white hat.”

  “From your point of view, I mean,” she said.

  “From my point of view?” Astounding. “You’re trying to think from my perspective? Why?”

  At that, she blushed and looked to her right, into a store window. He could see her reflection in the glass. Her feline face was solemn. Her full lips pursed into a soft, perfect moue.

  He’d just about given up on a reply when she turned and answered his first question.

  “Justice,” she said. “Justice matters to me. A lot.”

  “Why?”

  They stopped at the corner, waiting for a traffic light. “You first, but before that, where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you back to work,” he said. He observed her carefully. What would she make of being seen outside of her office with a known criminal? If that worried her, she didn’t show it. He was impressed.

  “Ah,” she said. “Then, we need a new direction.”

  Should he feel a bit crushed at that? No. He decided he shouldn’t feel anything about her not wanting to be seen with him.

  “I took the day off,” she said.

  “You’re not working?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “How did you come to find me in the park?”

  “That was sheer accident.”

  “No way. There is no way you coincidentally find me in the park on the day I’m meeting that guy.”

  “Cell phone,” she said with a smirk. “You shared your location with me and never unshared it.”

  He rolled his head to the left. “For the love of—” He turned to her again, but he couldn’t stop his answering grin. “You didn’t have any trouble finding that damn bar, did you?”

  She just smiled at him. “I don’t recall.”

  “That is such a violation of my civil rights—I ought to march you straight into my lawyer’s office.” He shook his head, taking out his cell and flicking off the location share. Where was the anger he would have felt at anybody with the gall to do that to him? Nowhere, that’s where.

  “It’s a good thing I really, really like you,” he said. He didn’t look at her. All around, the noises of the city were there, the cars, the horns, conversation on the street, but it all seemed muffled. His focus was on whatever this woman would say next. It had nothing to do with wanting her sexually, nothing to do with the deep abiding loneliness that had haunted him almost from the day that he and Tommy finally made enough money to get separate abodes. Nothing to do with wanting her for himself. All of which were in play for him. Beyond what he wanted and needed for himself, he just fucking wanted to know what she thought.

  She was almost his match in height and watching her turn her head and smile broadly at him was like having a searchlight shine right on his face. Exposing everything he was. He was afraid she could see right through him.

  And if she could? What would she see?

  You haven’t suffered enough, she’d said. That was still true, he supposed.

  “Tracking me without a warrant is not in alignment with a woman who loves justice more than anything else,” he interjected with a vehemence he surely didn’t feel. She just laughed and inside him something broke free and floated away in jubilation.

  “The hell it’s not.” She laughed. “You’re a hashtag bad actor. I’d be delinquent in my duties if I wasn’t keeping tabs on you.”

  He stopped at that. She stutter-danced a couple of steps ahead before she stopped. Who the hell kept tabs on him? Only his sister Alice. His mother never knew where he was. Mary was so far gone into the woo he doubted she knew anything about what went on planet earth. Lizzy wasn’t supposed to have to keep track of her big brother; it was his job to keep track of her.

  He took a step and stopped again. Sophia was turned fully toward him now. A few steps forward and they would be chest to chest. She wouldn’t even need to lift her chin if he...ridiculous.

  Her eyelids dropped and he took another step. Two more and they’d be right up against each other. Her lips parted. He stared into her eyes. Another step and he could smell her perfume.

  “Tabs?”

  “Um,” she breathed. The soft sound was maddening.

  “On me?”

  “Maybe?”

  He stared at her. One more step and she would kiss him. At this moment there was no doubt of that. He turned and started walking again. “How often?”

  For a moment, there was nobody next to him on the sidewalk. He shrugged his shoulders and wished for his jacket; to feel more normal without her than he did with her. She caught up quickly, but her v
oice sounded dazed.

  “What?”

  “Don’t play stupid.”

  She blushed. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. She’d been tracking him for the last two weeks?

  She had the decency to look chagrined.

  “Jesus. Did you know I was following you today?” he asked.

  “Oh! No. I mean I was so busy trying not to lose my target, I didn’t have time to...That is, no.”

  “So, why were you keeping tabs on me? What did you want?” Inside his chest, the rusty motor of his heart cranked over once but failed to start. Just as well. It wasn’t safe for her to get too close to him. Just ask Tommy, he thought.

  The sidewalk in front of Allison’s Kitchen was cracked. A few papers fluttered against the brick front, caught there momentarily by the wind. Ben set Karito down but kept a good hold on her small hand. Their destination was right beside them—Mastrelo’s bar and grill. In fact, the bar and the catering business actually shared access between their kitchen’s, a holdover from the time when the whole space had been part of Mastrelo’s and the restaurant had been a renowned destination for Italian dining. Rose and Angelo Mastrelo had gone into semi-retirement, which to them meant they reduced their enterprise to just short-order bar food, a large bar up front and darts and pool in the back. They sold the other half to their grandson’s other half—the very bitchy but good-for-Derrick, they guessed—Allison.

  “You want to see Rose?” he asked the little girl’s head. As an answer, she pulled ahead, reaching for the handle, stretching out, pulling his arm behind her. He guessed that was a yes. She was as determined and quick moving as her mother. Ben smiled. If this little girl was only half as volatile as her stunning mother, she’d be a handful.

  Thinking of Marley, he felt an uneasy combination of worry and attraction. Ben wasn’t a fool, he knew he was a bit of a hot head. For years, he and Derrick had survived living together because Derrick was a fucking rock wall of silence and weathered Ben’s outbursts with stoicism. If Ben’s anger had a hair trigger, he didn’t know what to call Marley’s explosive and expressive personality. A force of nature? He grinned to himself as he watched Karito yank on the handle with all her might. The door opened six inches. He let go of the girl’s hand and put his hands in his pockets, watching her. She was so fiercely determined to get into the building, Ben couldn’t bring himself to do it for her.

  He thought of Marley, her dark Costa Rican eyes sparkling. Here on the street, his heartbeat picked up, unwanted and unwise. He was with Sophia now.

  Karito gave a crow of victory as she wedged her narrow shoulders between the door and frame and slipped inside. She turned back toward him, planted her palms on the glass, and smirked through the door at Ben. He pulled open the door making his best monster face and she fled, giggles and squeals scattered behind her.

  Inside, the bar was dim and cool, Rose was seated at a table with paperwork spread out before her. One scrawny young man sat at the bar, mooning over the young blond bartender. There had been a time that the woman behind the bar was Sophia, and the guy too stupid in love, him. Now the blond was a tall Australian male, and the scrawny dude was some sort of Wall Streeter. Times change.

  “Oy, get me a draft, will ya, mate,” Ben said as he passed. Karito, whooped as she ran into the back of the bar.

  A woman’s voice rose, high and clear out of the back, and then Derrick stuck his head out. “Hey, Ben!”

  At the same time, Rose said, “Good timing. They’re all playing darts.”

  He collected his tankard and headed to the game room. There, Derrick was getting ready to toss a red-feathered dart at the wall. He had the dumbest looking dart-throwing squint on the planet. Ben instantly looked for Karito. He didn’t want her getting between Derrick and the dartboard. To his left, Dorothy Walker stood in heels so high she might have needed a column-climber to get into them. Karito was in front of Dot, her back leaning against the woman’s thighs. Dot had one elegant hand draped over Karito’s shoulder and was using the other hand to brush the sweaty drifts of hair back from the little girl’s forehead.

  “Hey, Ben.” Ed Walker was propped up on a stool on the far side of Dot.

  “What the fu...” Ben glanced at Karito, who was staring up at him with interest. “What a bunch of fun this looks like,” he stammered. Seriously?

  Ed laughed. “Smooth, Ben.”

  Ben shrugged. “Just manning up here,” he said, gesturing at Karito.

  Dorothy stared at him for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. Then she turned back to Ed.

  “So, you’ll never guess who asked me for a job today,” she said. “Remember Kathy?”

  “From the ad agency? Your mentor?”

  “Yep.” Dorothy smiled. “What can I say? Dot Walker Marketing is going places.” Her husband wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “You, lady, are always on your way to somewhere,” Ed said. “Who wouldn’t want to ride along?”

  Dorothy rewarded him with a kiss while Karito started at them, wide eyed.

  “Hey, keep it clean there,” said Ben. He gestured to Derrick. “Besides, the master darts man here is about to throw.”

  Derrick tossed his dart and hit the wall. Ed laughed, and Karito clapped. The giant of a man turned from the throw line and squatted down in front of the little girl.

  “Are you clapping?” he asked. The girl shook her head no and clapped louder, a delighted smile on her face. “You are!” Derrick said.

  Karito broke free from Dot and took a lap around the pool table, looking over her shoulder to see if Derrick would chase her. Instead, he headed off toward the kitchen. Karito drifted back to Ben, eyes wide. He picked her up.

  “Here, you throw the next one,” he said.

  “Uncle Derry didn’t chase me!” she complained.

  “Aw, he’s too big to chase anyone,” Ben said. “You know how slow those big people are.”

  “Not too big to find food,” Derrick said and plopped a plate of fries down. “You want water, Karito? Milk?”

  “Soda!”

  A glass of club soda with lime was placed on the table.

  “When did you become such a stick in the mud?” Dot asked Derrick, poking at the glass.

  “Since Allie decked me for giving Zach candy at bedtime,” he smirked.

  “I did what?”

  Ben watched Karito launch her dart, which sailed neatly into the floor, and then turned. In the doorway were Allie and Marley. Allison’s curly hair was pushed through a baseball cap, she had giant blue hoop earrings, and her signature work boots on. He searched Marley’s face. She appeared composed, but her round little nose was a bit pink. The look on her face had him catching his breath. Large, dark eyes, her full mouth curved into a sad smile and her face held an expression of aching wistfulness. Why would she be looking at Karito that way? Then she was looking directly at him and the force of that damn look gripped him by the chest, made the breath leave his lungs and pulled at him like the world’s biggest magnet.

  It must have called to Karito too because she thrust out her arms and began wiggling to get down. As soon as he set her on the floor, she took off and barreled into Marley and the moment was gone.

  “Ay, what kind of manners is this?” Marley scolded. “What I tell you ‘bout running in this place?” She crouched down, and from this vantage an incredible display of cleavage had Ben just staring for a moment. He turned away and blindly shoved a fistful of fries in his mouth. Ben looked around, desperate to find someone to talk to, something to be doing other than ogling the woman behind him like some kind of leech. The first eyes he saw were Dot’s, sea green and ringed in black eyeliner.

  “You’ll be a good father one day,” she said, picking a fry off the plate. In his mouth, the potatoes and grease turned to a solid lump. He forced himself to keep chewing, keep going. His mind went back to them standing before the window, him trying to persuade Sophia to go to Vegas with him, tie the knot, and get started on the rest of the
ir life together. She’d shut him down. He’d known right then, hadn’t he? There would be no children for him and Sophia.

  Mortifying. That’s about all the sanity Sophia could muster. Doug Lloyd had almost kissed her. Or at least Sophia believed that’s what happened back there. She would have bet a hundred dollars that he’d been considering it, and in fact, she would have let him. And then? He just walked away. That happened to her—never. That’s when. Occasionally, a man who lacked confidence would get right to the edge of kissing her and then turn away, basically chickening out. When that happened, she felt it; she knew in her bones what happened. With this man, confidence wasn’t an issue. So why had he stopped? Or maybe she’d misread him. The idea put her off kilter. He had to be gay, then for sure, he’d not been trying to kiss her.

  The thing was, Doug Lloyd didn’t seem gay now that he was away from Tommy. Heterosexual men with confidence didn’t back off from kissing her. What was wrong? Nothing. Nothing was wrong. What part of bats for the other team didn’t she understand? Ugh.

  She had to answer the man. He’d asked her why she’d followed him today. What had she wanted from him? Truthfully, she’d wanted to act like a school girl with a crush. She’d wanted to bump into him by accident. A part of her writhed in discomfort. How could she have wanted that when she was still living with Ben? There was no doubt of it; she had to leave Ben. She just needed to figure out a way to tell him. She was a grown-ass woman, and she needed a better answer for the man beside her too.

  Men. The whole gender was just too much work. She racked her brain.

  “Basically, I wanted to show you more pictures of the hairy dude and see if you still didn’t know him. Obviously, you’ve been holding out on me. I figured as much.” There, that was a good one. That sounded plausible even to her.

  The short red bristles of his hair glinted in the sun. She could see the shape of his head; the lines on his forehead were more pronounced as he squinted into the setting sun between the buildings.