The phone rang and jangled her already tightly strung nerves.
“Hey, Babe.”
She felt an immediate rush of guilt when she heard Dirk’s voice, but she tried to shove it away. She hadn’t done anything wrong; she simply wasn’t used to so much secrecy. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Can’t I call just to talk to you?”
“Yes, but you haven’t in five years, so I figure there must be a reason.”
“Hmm, I’m no match for your powers of deductive reasoning. Sal wants to have dinner with us tonight.”
“Where?” She looked around her tiny house. It was clean, but she had trouble picturing Sal here. He seemed more accustomed to tony four star restaurants than her tiny abode.
“We could go out, but after so many years of hearing me rave about your cooking…” he let his words trail off.
“You want me to cook for Sal?” she squeaked.
“I was thinking you can meet me here and we can go to the store together, that way it will be my treat.”
She bit her lip. If he was paying, she could get the best quality of food and supper would be a cinch. Her meager budget usually required more preparation and longer cooking times to make cheap cuts of meat edible. “Okay,” she agreed at last.
“Sounds great. I think I can get off early tonight.”
“I thought you had a ton of catching up to do.”
“I do, but this is important.”
She replaced the receiver with a frown. He was too busy to walk her inside last night, but not so busy that he wouldn’t drop everything whenever Sal snapped his fingers. What hurt was that she felt no surprise at this most recent example of where she landed on the priority scale. And, like a trained dog, she jumped whenever he snapped. She spent the morning searching her recipes in order to decide on a menu for the evening. In the end she decided to go simple yet classic with steak au poivre, potatoes, salad with homemade blue cheese dressing, and a sunken chocolate cake for dessert. It was one of Dirk’s favorite meals, so she figured his cousin would like it, too.
In the afternoon, she spent a long time getting ready. Inspired by her menu, she decided her look should be basic and classic, too. She broke out her little black dress, put her hair in a French twist, and applied her makeup the new way the stylist had shown her. After one final, approving look in her mirror she drove to Dirk’s dealership.
And then she faced the unpleasant task of encountering his secretary, Heidi. There were parts of Heidi that Liza was sure were fake, not least of which was her personality. She made no secret of her desire for Dirk. On the previous and rare occasions Liza happened to show up at the dealership, Heidi did her best to make her feel inferior in every way. If she felt secure in her relationship with Dirk, it would be easier to ignore Heidi’s subtle digs and disparaging glances. But instead she always left feeling slightly off kilter. After all, she was his secretary. They spent all day together every day. The fact was that Heidi probably did have more of a claim on him than Liza did. At least she knew more about him.
Today she was perched on the edge of Dirk’s desk, giggling at something he said. He laughed with her until he saw Liza, and then he stood and smiled.
“Hey,” he said cheerfully.
Heidi swung her eyes in Liza’s direction and frowned. Usually Liza showed up after school in work clothes, looking tired and frazzled. Now in her perfectly tailored black dress with her hair neatly swept off her face she was a sharp contrast to Heidi’s too tight shirt and too short skirt. Liza looked classy; Heidi looked cheap. After so many years of hurt feelings, Liza was petty enough to enjoy the moment.
“You look perfect,” Dirk said. He used his index finger to tip her face up in order to give her a perfunctory greeting kiss. Over his shoulder Heidi scowled at her. Liza resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, but it took effort. “I just have a couple of things to finish up here.” He indicated the couch in his office and she sat down. He turned his attention back to Heidi and rattled off a list of instructions for her.
“Got it, boss,” she said in a voice that sounded eager and seductive, at least to Liza. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” She batted her eyelashes and leaned across the desk.
“No,” Dirk said distractedly. He didn’t look up or notice her burgeoning cleavage, which was almost a miracle because it was practically right in his face. He waved her off with a flourish of his hand. “Have a good night, Heidi.”
“See you, Heidi,” Liza said.
Her slightly triumphant tone didn’t go unnoticed. Heidi scowled at her on her way out of the room. Liza turned back to Dirk with a smile. He finally looked up from his desk.
“You look happy,” he said.
“So do you,” she noted.
He stood, walked to the door, and locked it before joining her on the couch. “Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked. When he pulled her into his lap she figured the question was rhetorical.
She almost commented on the abrupt shift in him. What had brought about this newly affectionate behavior? But then she decided she didn’t care. Why should she tempt fate and risk making it go away by pointing it out? Whatever the reason, she decided to enjoy it. She turned her face up for a kiss that was soon interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Dirk,” Heidi called. “I have a question for you, but the door is locked.”
“Awesome timing, Heidi,” Liza muttered.
Dirk laughed at her as he disentangled himself. “Are you jealous of my secretary?” he whispered.
“Should I be?” Liza asked. They spent a lot of time together, and Heidi was undeniably attractive, if you liked over the top good looks. She frowned. What guy didn’t?
Dirk opened the door and Heidi asked some inane question Liza was sure she made up in order to interrupt them, but she kept any comments to herself. Dirk was enjoying the prospect of her jealousy a little too much.
“Maybe we should bring her tonight. For Sal,” he added with a quick look at her to gauge her reaction.
Her unwavering smile remained placid.
He reached out his hand to pull her off the couch. “That’s my girl, cool as a cucumber.”
Was he being sarcastic? She studied his back as he walked in front of her. She was a basket case most of the time. Surely he was kidding when he called her cool. Most of the time she felt embarrassed because she gave too much of herself away. Was it possible he didn’t see her that way? He reached behind him for her hand and led her through the maze of cars in the showroom. He paused to say hello to a couple of salesmen.
“My girlfriend, Liza,” he introduced.
Liza said a shy hello to each of them. She was made more self-conscious by the surprise on their faces. Were they surprised because they didn’t know Dirk had a girlfriend or because she wasn’t what they expected?
“Where’s Sal today?” one of the salesmen asked. “I had a question for him.”
“He’s out today,” Dirk replied. “He’ll be in tomorrow. Can it wait, or can I help you?”
“It can wait,” the guy said, much to Liza’s relief. They were finally able to exit the building after several postponed attempts. She began to see why he always had such a difficult time getting away from work.
“Where is Sal?” she asked. Dirk was extremely conscientious about his job. She assumed Sal was the same way.
“Schmoozing,” Dirk said.
“What does that mean?”
“He’s at some sort of media event. Public relations are a big part of the job.”
“Why didn’t you go?” she asked.
“Because Sal does it better. I prefer to remain behind the scenes.”
“But you do the commercials.”
“That’s because I was an athlete in this town. You’d be surprised how much sway little things like that have over someone’s decision when buying a car.”
She thought of what Link had said about needing money. “Dirk, is the business doing okay? I know times have been tough lately, but you
guys are doing all right, aren’t you?”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “We’re fine. Some of the smaller dealerships have gone under, but we’re big enough to sustain any losses.” He opened her car door for her and helped her inside.
“Where did your dad’s money come from initially? I mean the startup money for the business.”
“Sal’s Mom,” he said. For reasons she couldn’t fathom he seemed uncomfortable with the question.
“Is that why Sal is a partner in the business?”
He nodded. “Although he probably would be anyway; my dad’s that type of guy. Initially Sal’s dad was his partner, but he didn’t have much of a head for business. His mom did, but she and my dad didn’t get along well.”
“I can’t imagine anyone not getting along with your dad.”
“You never met Sal’s mom,” he said. “She didn’t get along with anyone. But then his parents died and my parents took him in and made him a partner.”
“Do you ever wish you could do something different with your life?” He had been handed the business without question. Did he resent it?
“No, never,” he said. “I love my job, although I prefer management to actual selling. I leave that to Dad and Sal.” He glanced at her. “Why so many questions all of a sudden?”
“I ask them as I think of them.”
“So for the last five years you haven’t thought of any questions and now all of a sudden you have a hundred?” Was his tone teasing or suspicious?
“On her deathbed my grandmother made me promise to wait five years before asking a man any personal questions about himself,” she said.
“You mean the grandma we had Christmas with last year? The one who lives in Florida?”
She nodded. “She thought she was dying once. It was traumatizing.”
They arrived at the store and he put the car in park. “It’s amazing to me that you look perfectly polished on the outside, and yet in reality you’re a little bit crazy.” He smiled and she found herself smiling in return. He had that effect on her.
He followed her through the store as she loaded his cart. She added extra food because he wasn’t good at keeping his apartment stocked.
“I don’t need food. I eat at your house,” he told her when she put a pre-mixed salad in the cart.
“You eat at my house three times a week. What do you do the other four days?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but it never seems to involve eating at my house.”
She held her arm in mid-air while she studied him. What did he do when he wasn’t with her? He didn’t murder people, of that she was certain. But what did he do? Where did he go? And with whom?
“You should still keep food on hand for emergencies,” she told him. “What if I got sick and couldn’t cook for you?”
“Then I would pick up something from a restaurant and take care of you.”
That comment caused her to freeze again. “You would take care of me?”
He realized his comment surprised her and he frowned. “If you let me. Knowing how you are you probably wouldn’t tell me you were sick and then cook anyway.”
That was true because it had happened before. Last year she had the flu, but she cooked for him anyway and kept up a happy façade until he left, and then she passed out on the floor. In contrast, the last time he was sick she had stayed at his house for three days to take care of him, even taking a day off work. Her brother, Bryce, was right; it was much easier to give than it was to receive.
They finished shopping and went back to Dirk’s apartment. It was a posh apartment, at least on the outside. Inside it was stark and sparsely decorated. Liza wasn’t sure if it was because Dirk didn’t have a knack for that sort of thing or because he didn’t see the sense in wasting money. He was what some people referred to as a cheapskate. His only splurge was his car, but since he was a dealer people expected him to drive something stylish. Otherwise he didn’t spend money on himself. To Liza’s delight he did spend money on her occasionally. True, he often bought her sensible things like her flannel pajamas, but he also bought her frivolous things just because. For their first Valentine’s Day he bought her eight roses because that was how many months they had been together at the time. Every year since then he added another dozen so that last year she had received four dozen plus eight single roses. Even Marion had swooned a little when they arrived.
As she stood in the entryway looking around, it occurred to her that she didn’t have a key to his place, although he had a key to hers. She was tempted to ask him for one, just to see his reaction. But as always her fear of rejection held her back. If he said no, she didn’t think she would be able to take it right now.
“Why do you look like you’ve never been here before?” He emerged from the kitchen after depositing the groceries and took her hand. “Come here, I have something for you.”
Her heart beat fast in anticipation as she trotted behind him to the kitchen. He took a scrap of material off the counter and shook it out.
“An apron,” she said.
He nodded. “I know you wear them when you cook, and now you’ll have one to leave here.”
She debated with herself for a second. On the surface of things, an apron could be an insulting gift, but she liked aprons. The fact that he had bought her one proved how well he knew her, and it was pretty. The blue paisley print would be the only touch of color or femininity in his drab, white kitchen. It felt like putting her stamp on things, and she liked that.
“Thank you,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an exuberant kiss that sent him reeling back into the counter behind him.
“Wow, you really like aprons,” he said when the kiss was finished. She smiled at him and turned her back so he could tie the apron. He stood back to watch her bustle around the kitchen until she put him to work cracking peppercorns and scrubbing potatoes.
“Saved by the bell,” he commented when the doorbell rang. She snapped a dish towel at his backside and his laughter echoed down the hallway as he went to answer. She finished up supper while the two men talked in the living room. She couldn’t make out their words, but every few seconds they laughed, so she figured they were joking with each other.
When she finally finished with the food, she took off her apron and looked around for a place to hang it. There was nowhere visible, so she opened the door to the pantry, looked inside, and stopped short with a stifled gasp of surprise. There, sitting on the shelf across from her, was a gun.
Her father had owned guns when she was small. Occasionally he and her uncle went hunting on Thanksgiving, but none of his guns had looked like this one. This looked…professional somehow. It was sleek and polished. She leaned in for a closer look.
“Are you thinking of going on a rampage?”
Liza squealed and spun so quickly she fell backwards into the pantry. Sal’s arm shot out to keep her from collapsing onto the floor. She quickly righted herself and sidestepped to get out of his embrace.
“What’s going on in here?” Dirk entered the room and tried to peer over Sal’s shoulder.
“Your girlfriend was rifling through your things,” Sal said. “I think she’s spying on you.”
“I was not,” Liza said. She smoothed her hand over her hair to tame a flyaway and eased past Sal to stand next to Dirk.
“Did you find anything interesting?” Dirk asked. He and Sal looked at each other over her head, clearly amused.
She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Sal, but she had to know. “When did you get a gun?”
“Which one?” Dirk asked. He reached behind her and plucked a piece of cheese off the salad, popping it in his mouth.
“There’s more than one?”
He shrugged. “I like guns. You knew that.”
“No I didn’t.”
He frowned. “I thought we’ve talked about it before. I’m sort of a collector. Is this ready?” He pointed to the food.
She
nodded. “Where is your collection? I’ve never seen it.”
“I keep it at my parents’ house except for that one. People steal guns. Their house is safer than my apartment.” He cocked his head at her. “Does this bother you?”
“No, I…” What could she say? I’m disconcerted because, after a message was found in the pajamas you bought me, a guy was shot in the head. “I’m surprised. I’ve never heard you mention hunting before.”
“I don’t hunt.”
“Then why do you own guns?” she asked.
He shrugged “Babe, I’m starving. Can we talk about this later?”
She nodded and began gathering the food to carry to the dining room. Dirk carried the salad, leaving her and Sal alone in the kitchen together once again. He gave her the searching look that was becoming his trademark, and all of a sudden she was fed up.
“Was there something you needed?” she asked.
His amused smile returned. He shook his head slowly. “I’m just trying to figure you out, Liza.”
“What’s so confusing about me?” Was he teasing her? She was probably the simplest and most transparent person she knew.
“Not many girlfriends are so…accommodating.” Now it was his turn to pick up a platter and leave the room.
What did that mean? Accommodating about what?
She carried the last of the food into the dining room and began to serve. She almost dropped Sal’s steak in his lap when she realized he was once again watching her with an amused, searching look.
“You’re incredibly efficient, Liza,” Sal said. He made a show of checking his watch. “Dirk told me supper would be at six and it’s six on the dot.”
“Thanks,” she said uncertainly. Somehow she didn’t think it was a compliment.
He turned his attention to Dirk. “Did she come well trained, or did you do this to her?” He waved his hand to indicate Liza as she served the salad.
The Pajama Affair Page 8
