by Claire Adams
“I know it. That’s why you have to have a little fun. Get your dick wet.”
“I’m too damn busy to be chasing tail like some sex-crazed teenager. I have a multi-billion-dollar firm to run and two boys to raise. There’s no room for that kind of thing.”
“You don’t like it, though.”
“No, I don’t like it,” I said. “But it’s the truth, and I’m going to have to accept it.”
“I still say we should go out tonight and have a little fun. You can’t base everything on work. And family’s important and all, but you have to find a way to blow off some steam, or else you’ll go nuts.”
“I’ve got a lot to do. Go ahead and start on the sensor system. See if you can’t work on something similar for the other sensors.”
“No worries. You wanna go have a drink, just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks.” Rick left, and I went back to work. The day went by slowly. I found myself thinking about Zoe when people were trying to talk to me and staring into space wondering whether or not I should call and reschedule with her.
I stayed late signing paperwork and going over the orders with some of the men from the Navy. They were trying to retrofit one of our newer planes with Rick’s sensor and wanted to know every single detail. I gave them as much as I could and referred them to Rick for the rest.
I didn’t get home until six o’clock, right about the time I would’ve been getting ready for my date. I walked up to the nursery, where Mona was sitting and reading while the boys rested in their swings.
She looked up from her book. “What’s wrong?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m just tired.”
She marked her place in her book and followed me out into the hall where she leaned against the banister casually. She stared me down with her sharp, squinty eyes. “You’re always tired. People expect it. If you were just tired, then people wouldn’t be saying anything.”
“Fine, I had to cancel my date, and I feel like a complete prick.”
“Why did you cancel it? I thought you liked her.”
“I do like her. That’s why I’m cutting her loose.”
“You’re hurting her because you like her? What kind of nonsense is that?”
“No, I’m saving her from having to put up with two shrieking children.”
“You’re not saving that woman from anything except a good night out. It’s your second date, and you’re worried about integrating your life with hers?”
“I have to be realistic. She’s struggling to survive. She doesn’t need the stress, and I don’t think she’ll stay around for it, either. Her life is just as chaotic as mine, and work is her main priority.”
“Those boys are in dire need of a good woman, somebody who can come in and give them the attention they deserve. So, unless you’re going to marry me, you need to get out there and find a woman like that.”
“I’m not going to ask her to be my nanny, or a mother to two children. I don’t need to. I have you.”
“Look at me. I’m overweight, I smoked for thirty years, and I’ve had enough liquor in my liver to last three generations. I’m not going to be around forever, Archer, and when I’m gone, those boys are going to need somebody to take care of them—a real mother.”
Those last three words stung. “They had one, and now she’s gone.”
“And it’s time you learned to move past that. Not just for yourself, although Lord knows you need it. Do it for the boys.”
“It’s too big a risk. I know she likes me, Mona, and I don’t want her to get hurt when things don’t work out.”
“You’re assuming that they won’t.”
“I’m being pragmatic.”
“Pragmatism isn’t going to get you anywhere. Love is a risk, Archer. It’s one of the most dangerous risks a person will ever take, but it is the most rewarding thing you will ever do.”
“I don’t even know if that’s what this is.”
“That’s the point. You don’t know what’s going to happen, and I know that scares you, but what if you’re working yourself up over nothing? What if she decides that she loves the boys and wants to stay? And why wouldn’t she? She’d be getting all of the benefits of being a mother without all of the pain it takes to become one.”
“I don’t know.” I looked back into the nursery. “It doesn’t sound likely.”
“Would you have believed that we’d be having this conversation a month ago?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Nothing is for certain, Archer, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Work with life; don’t fight it. If you fight it, you’ll be struggling until you die.”
“Why do you think she’s so important? You’ve never even met her.”
“I’m not sure she is. I’m just as pragmatic as you are, but I know that eventually you’re going to have to take this step, whether it’s with her or with somebody else. And you’ve done enough to this poor girl already. Three times now you’ve screwed this up. If she’s put up with this much, and she still wants to see you, she deserves more credit than you’re giving her.”
“Still, I don’t want to get into anything that will just probably end up in disaster.”
“Why?” she asked.
“It’s too dangerous. She could get hurt.”
“You’re not worried about her getting hurt. It’s you you’re worried about. You don’t want to end up losing somebody that you care about again.”
“That’s not true.”
“I get it,” she said, holding her hands up in mock resignation. “You’re macho. You’re invincible. I’ll go back to humoring you in a moment. Don’t worry. But right now, you need to listen to me. The risk is minimal. You’re not attached, and neither is she. If she walks away now, it won’t matter. You’d be right back where you left off.”
“True, but…”
She rose one eyebrow. “Go up to your room and call her.”
“I’m going to get changed. I don’t think I’m going to call her, but I’ll keep what you said in mind.”
“You do that.” She patted me on the shoulder and walked back into the boy’s room. I watched the way their eyes traveled when she walked in, and how Andrew laughed when she sat down. They gave her more attention and affection than they ever gave me. A woman would change things.
Chapter Sixteen
Zoe
I heard the sound of the doorbell cut through the silence in the kitchen. Chloe was busy wrestling with a piece of dough the size of my head, so it was my turn to wait on the customer. I washed my hands and tried to brush away some of the flour that’d caked all over my apron before I walked out into the lobby.
It was the ginger sasquatch again, with two of his equally furry buddies in tow. “Welcome back,” I said, leaning against the counter to take some of the weight off my feet. “How can I help you?”
“Three dozen orange and ginger, please,” Bigfoot grunted. He and his friends were crowding around the counter with ravenous looks on their faces. One was eyeing the muffin display case.
“Anything else?” I turned to the guy drooling over the display case. He was staring at a batch of apple nut muffins I made the day before.
“I’ll get one of those.” He pointed at the muffins.
“Sure, I’ll have that right up.” I turned back to pull three cookie boxes out from under the counter. When I turned back around to place the cookies inside, Mr. Beetle had his hands cupped around his eyes so he could see inside the front window. He had a streak of dirt on his cheek.
I ignored him and went back to pulling the cookies out of the display case. “Here you are.” I set the three boxes on the counter, along with Bigfoot's friend’s muffin.
“Thanks.” The ginger handed me two bills. A one hundred dollar one and a twenty dollar one. “Keep the change. The cookies are worth it.”
“Really?” The order was just a little over one hundred dollars.
“This, too.” The guy who order
ed the muffin pulled out a wad of bills and stuffed it in the tip jar.
“You guys rock. Send every single person you know in here.”
“Oh, we will,” the ginger said before he left.
Mr. Beetle turned around when they left and watched them walk across the parking lot toward their cars. Bigfoot stopped when he opened his door and looked at him. Mr. Beetle gave him the finger and ran off.
“Again?” Chloe walked out of the kitchen. “Does he come every day you’re here alone?”
“Not every day but sometimes.”
“Look.” Chloe pointed out the window. Mr. Beetle walked back into the lot and bent over to pick up a cigarette butt. He bit the end, pulled out the filter with his teeth and lit it.
“Ooh, that’s just wrong.” We both laughed.
“See? You’re gonna have to get rid of him.”
“So long as he doesn’t start licking all of our food, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“Why does he keep running after the guys who come in here? It’s like he’s trying to guard you or something. Zoe, this man is dangerous. He’s creeping me out, and I don’t feel comfortable coming in here when he’s around. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re doing quite well without him. I think it’s time to get rid of him.”
“I don’t want a scene, and I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Plenty of businesses have homeless people who walk around the lot. This is downtown, after all.”
“Fine.” She gave up and walked back into the kitchen.
I stayed and waited through the lunch rush. Mr. Beetle stayed throughout the entire thing, watching each customer as they passed the shop. I paid close attention to their reactions. Many didn’t seem to care. It was like I told Chloe. This was downtown. A certain element was expected, but there were some who seemed perturbed. One lady took a glance at him and started running out to her car.
“See?” Chloe came out of the kitchen when she left. “He’s scaring people away.”
I sighed, and let my head fall back. “All right…”
Chloe cocked her head and looked at me. “All right, what?”
“Go lock the door and turn the sign around.”
“Really?” Her eyes went wide, and she ran out to go lock the door.
The second she got close, Mr. Beetle ran at the door. She lunged forward and locked it. He grabbed a handful of rocks and threw it straight at the front window. My heart stopped. If that thing shattered, it would cost me thousands of dollars to replace it. Thankfully, the rocks were small, and he threw like a little girl. They bounced off and fell down to the ground.
“What are you going to do about that?” Chloe asked.
“Watch him carefully. If he does that again, call the police.”
“How come it took this long for you to come around?”
“I’ve been around the entire time. I’ve just never had a good reason to call the police on him. Coming in every day isn’t a crime.”
“Property damage is.”
Chloe was mad at me for the rest of the night, stomping around, giving me the cold shoulder. I tried explaining to her why I’d waited so long to take action against Mr. Beetle—it would’ve caused a scene—but she didn’t want to hear it, and the more I thought about it, the more I understood why. She felt vulnerable. He could walk in whenever he wanted to and do whatever he wanted to her, and there’d be nothing she could do to stop him.
That night, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I reached around blindly and grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Zoe…”
It was Chloe. “What’s going on? What time is it?”
“Three-thirty.”
“What are you doing calling me this late? You’ve got to work in the morning.”
“I can’t. I’ve been up all night, puking.” Her voice was quiet, meek. She was afraid. I never let her get away with faking sick.
“Chloe…”
“No, I mean it. I’ve been puking up ice chips for the past hour.”
“Tell me what’s wrong?” I knew what was wrong. She was supposed to work at the shop alone tomorrow. Mr. Beetle had freaked her out more than I realized. Still, I didn’t like the idea of her staying up all night worrying about it.
“I can’t come in tomorrow,” she said again. “You’re not gonna fire me, are you?”
“No.” I sat up. “I’m not.” I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t even sure I liked the idea of going to work alone.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Get some sleep and don’t worry. I know you’re not sick. But I understand.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
The next morning, I parked behind the bakery and got out of the car, my feet crunching against the pavement. The building was pretty straightforward, a square, red brick shop with a glass front. It was built in the back of the lot, next to a wooden fence that was hanging sideways almost to the ground.
I walked into the alleyway behind it, ignoring the smell of dirty diapers and rotting food. It wasn’t very long, just a block, but it offered a lot of cover, so I took my time looking through, watching for anything that a homeless person would sleep on—blankets, pillows, jackets—any sign of Mr. Beetle’s camp. He was always around, and he didn’t smell like he had anywhere else to call home.
There wasn’t much in the alley. Just some old newspapers flying around in the wind and a pile of old books sitting next to a dumpster. I walked back, a little disappointed. I thought that maybe if I could find his camp, I could tell the police where it was if he caused me any more trouble. Wherever the hell he lived, it wasn’t behind the alley, and I didn’t have time to go traipsing around downtown hunting for him.
I opened the bakery and walked into the kitchen. My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. Chloe sent me a message saying, “How’s it going?”
“You’re worried,” I typed. “I’m not ignoring this anymore.”
“Good.” She added a smiley face.
The day was slow. It was Saturday, which meant that the mechanics were still sleeping off their hangovers or getting ready for a second round. All the businessmen who filled the downtown office buildings were still safe at home, nestled under their covers. It was probably better that way. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with anyone, and I already had enough money to get me through the month.
I decided to take it slow and do some baking now that I had a chance. After the lunch rush, and the ensuing clean up, I took a muffin in back so I could eat and read to clear my head. Things were quiet, and I was tense. Mr. Beetle usually came in around that time.
The doorbell rang. My back went stiff, and I found myself sniffing the air for the stench of rolled cigarettes and coagulated urine. I didn’t smell anything, but that didn’t mean I was in the clear. I got up slowly and inched my way closer to the kitchen door, trying to see who was in the lobby, but they were standing behind one of the cake displays.
“Yeah, Chloe. I think we can probably add a little more cocoa powder to that batch,” I called out, loud enough for whoever was in the lobby to hear. It was a desperate attempt to keep Mr. Beetle from thinking that I was alone. It was stupid. I was freaking out over a handful of rocks, and I was making myself look like an idiot. It didn’t matter what I did. I’d still have to walk out there, and if Mr. Beetle was there, I’d have to deal with him. I got up and walked out into the lobby.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I stopped halfway to the register. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Archer was standing in front of the register, subdued and a little sheepish with his hands in his pockets.
“How are you?” I tried to dispel the initial shock, but I could see right away that that wasn’t going to happen, so I threw caution to the wind. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I didn’t think you would either. I just—I’m sorry, Zoe.”
“What is it? One second, you want it. The next you don’t.”
“My life isn’t easy. Y
ou must know that. I’ve got thirty things going on at any given time—weapons development, defense contracts. It’s not the kind of world you just let somebody into, and yeah, it’s been hard. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.” I was glad that we could talk directly about it. He had this way of smiling without even lifting his mouth. It was in his eyes. I couldn’t understand how he did it, but it gave me chills.
“Is somebody here with you?” He looked around me.
“No,” I said, laughing awkwardly. “I thought you were this guy. The one you saw at the club.”
“Is he giving you trouble?” I watched the muscles flex in his arms when his hands balled up into fists.
“He stood outside yesterday and scared some of the customers, so the girl that works with me, Chloe, she ran over to lock the door so he couldn’t come in. He rushed at her, almost got inside before she could lock it. Then, he picked up a handful of rocks and threw them at the door.”
Archer turned back. “Did he break the window?”
“No, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he did. I have insurance, but the premiums are already too high.”
“Zoe, this isn’t the first time he’s done this. Are you sure you’re okay here alone?”
“I think he’s homeless. He’s probably begging for money just to eat. He can’t afford a gun or a knife, and he’s not that big. Chloe and I could probably overpower him.”
“But you don’t know that.” Archer was clearly disturbed by what I’d told him, like he needed some reassurance.
“No, and it’s starting to scare my friend. She called me at three in the morning last night to tell me that she’d been puking and she couldn’t come in, but I know she didn’t want to come in because of him. She was mad at me all last night for waiting as long as I did to get rid of him.”
“Just be careful. Do you have protection?”
