Her Kind of Hero

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Her Kind of Hero Page 11

by Kathleen Dienne


  “Gosh, I don’t know. I mean—”

  “Do you already have something going on?”

  “No, but…it’s been a long week. I don’t think I’d be very good company.” I was positive I didn’t want a date with Anthony. I tossed my lunch garbage in a nearby can.

  “You won’t even remember his name after you’ve been with me,” he said, trying to look amorous. I needed to get him in front of a mirror when he did that, because he just looked creepy. I was even more annoyed to realize that Derek was probably right yet again. And right about something to do with emotions, no less. How had he known Anthony had feelings that were more than just friendly?

  “When I said I needed to start dating, I didn’t mean this weekend.” I tried to make a joke out of it.

  “Look, you’ve had a bad week. You’re tired. Your brain is full. Someone should take care of you.”

  “I just need to do a lot of forgetting for a few hours.”

  “So let me distract you.”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  Anthony could sense my wavering. “Just a good time with an old friend, you know? I tell great jokes. You’ve heard them all but that only means you know when to laugh. And you always laugh, especially when I do the one about the penguin and the leprechaun. Ach, me foine lassie—”

  I did laugh, and I held out a hand to stop the torrent of words. “How about that Italian joint off Main? I haven’t gone in almost a month.”

  “Italian! That’d be great. Very romantic,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.

  I had a feeling he would make the hurt puppy face if I laughed, so I didn’t. “Not a date, though, okay? I’m totally not up for a date. Besides, I don’t know what’s so romantic about Italian. There’s no sexy way to eat spaghetti.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t say sexy, I said romantic.”

  “My bad.” I loaded my arms with my bags. “I really have to go now, these are pretty heavy. So you want to say eight tonight? At the Italian place?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He walked away. He didn’t offer to help me carry my bags to the car.

  The parking garage was nearly full. I blinked away tears in case anyone was looking at me. Derek might not be the passionate, dramatic man I usually yearned for, but guys like Anthony made Derek look like Don Juan. I felt like I owed Derek an apology, but why I was sorry, I wasn’t quite sure.

  Chapter Ten

  I regretted giving in before the waiter poured the olive oil for the bread. I don’t know what caused it, but Anthony hit a particularly manic gear early on and never shifted. First, he ordered me to turn my cell phone off. I’d have done it anyway, but his tone was really unnecessary. Then he ordered for me in a fake Italian accent. I could have let either of those errors go for the sake of our long association, but now that I was both open to dating and not dating Derek, Anthony wasn’t settling for passive-aggressive jokes anymore.

  He was making a move. If he wasn’t gazing at me like a stunned sheep, he was talking suggestively about the one-night stands he’d had in the past five years. He was ignoring all of my hints, too. Maybe he and Derek had compared notes or something. Maybe it was just a coincidence that I was on a roll when it came to men who didn’t pick up nonverbal messages.

  The final straw was when Anthony put one end of a spaghetti noodle in his mouth and tried to get me to take the other end. I asked him which one of us was the lady and which one was the tramp. He didn’t think that was funny, and he sulked until the check arrived.

  He brightened up once we got outside. “Can I walk you home?”

  “Oh, don’t let me put you to any trouble.”

  “I’d love to walk. It’s a beautiful night. Almost as lovely as you are,” he said, taking my arm.

  I tried to head him off with a yawn. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t kidding at lunch today, it’s been a really long week.”

  “I understand.” At the corner, he turned left and hurried me across the street. He made a big show of keeping his body between me and the cars stopped for the red light.

  “I wish I wasn’t so tired, but I’m just going to go right in and collapse.”

  “Hey, I get it. Why don’t I come in with you, make you some coffee?”

  I didn’t scream at him. Somehow. “No, no, caffeine this late would keep me up all night. Then I’d be tired and jittery.”

  “Well, let’s just relax. Watch a movie or something.”

  “Some other time, okay?” I squeezed his arm.

  He stopped in front of my house. “Well, could I at least have a glass of water?”

  I sighed. “Sure, Anthony. Come on in.”

  We walked through the house and into the kitchen. I filled a glass from the tap and handed it over.

  He froze when he saw the roses. “Wow. I thought you said you weren’t dating anyone.” His eyes darted my way.

  “I’m not. They’re—” I froze. Dating? I was dating someone. I’d been dating someone for years. I’d been dating Derek. Furthermore, my fears of trying to make a friendship into something it wasn’t were totally pointless. I’d just had a date with a friend who was trying to turn it into something more, and it was horrible. What Derek and I had was different, going right down to the roots of who we were. I felt foolish for needing to see the sharp contrast between Anthony and Derek before I could see the truth. I was in love with Derek Lane. And with any luck at all, he was still in love with me.

  My mind was racing, but Anthony was still looking at me. I beamed at him and finished what I’d been about to say. “They’re from a friend.”

  He looked encouraged. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

  “What?”

  “Vanessa.” He set down the glass and reached for my hand. “You have to have realized what’s going on.”

  “Uh. No?”

  “I want you to be with me.”

  Terrific. “Oh, Anthony.”

  “Does that mean you’re glad?”

  “I’m flattered. I really am. It’s just…”

  “I know this might seem out of nowhere. But I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I know I wasn’t what you wanted back in school, but we’re older now. You might appreciate the kind of person I am, now that we’re adults.”

  I took back my hand. “I wish I could, but I can’t. I just don’t think of you that way.”

  “You didn’t think of Luke that way at first, and look how well that worked out.”

  “Everyone is different.”

  “If you’re willing to get all dressed up and go out on romantic dates and make out with a dork like Derek, why not take a chance on me?”

  “Oh, Anthony,” I said again, at a loss for words. I walked over to Derek’s laptop and opened my email program.

  The subtle hint that I didn’t want to talk about romance with Anthony finally sunk in. He sighed. “Can I use your bathroom for a second?”

  His tone sounded crushed. “Of course,” I said, feeling a little bad for him. “Go ahead and use the one in the front hall.”

  The laptop chimed. I had a new message from Derek. I almost shrieked from relief and delight. I was hoping the email was an olive branch, but I’d be happy with some good old fashioned righteous indignation. Then I could apologize, maybe go over to his house and show him how sorry I was.

  I scanned the first few lines, and I had to grab the counter for support.

  Van –

  Your cell phone is off and you’re not answering your home phone. First, I finally found Mark through a records search. We couldn’t find him because he doesn’t live in Northern Virginia anymore. He moved to Texas a few years ago. I’m sorry, but Anthony was lying to you. Didn’t he tell you that he’d gone to NoVa for a convention? He could have sent the email from there.

  Second, I’ve finished mapping the IP addresses from the spam emails. The stalker moves around, but he is someone local. Several were emailed from a wifi hotspot in Anthony’s supermarket, although those stopped a few we
eks ago. At any rate, be careful.

  I called the police and gave them all this data when I couldn’t find you. They told me the 571 number that keeps calling you has only been using cell towers here in town. Please call me soonest.

  Derek

  I felt cold and dizzy. The powder room door squeaked, and I heard the toilet flush. I closed the email program and shut off the laptop. I didn’t want to believe it, but all I could think of was the last thing Anthony said, about my giving Derek a chance.

  Anthony came into the kitchen. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

  “How did you know I went on a date with Derek? I never told you.”

  “You must have.”

  “I know I didn’t. It was just last night. So how did you know?”

  He squirmed. “I guess I saw you together. This isn’t that big a town, you know.”

  “You’ve been following me.”

  “I can explain.”

  “You know what, I don’t think I care. I want you to leave now.”

  “But I bought you dinner,” he whined. “The least you can do is listen to me.”

  “I’m sorry. Thank you for dinner. But you need to go.”

  “You’ve got to listen. I love you. Please give me a chance.” He came toward me, his arms outstretched.

  I grabbed the cordless phone from the counter. “You do not love me. Stop talking like a crazy person and get out, or I’m calling the cops.”

  “Oh, Vanessa. I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “This.”

  His fist came out of nowhere and smashed into my jaw. The phone went flying out of my hand and skidded across the room. The force of the blow knocked me off balance and I fell. My head hit the counter.

  ***

  I don’t remember hitting the floor, but the floor was where I woke up. The next thing I noticed was the smell of the roses. I was lying on my side. I could hear Anthony moving around the kitchen, humming a cheerful melody that I recognized as one of the show tunes from our choir tour.

  My jaw ached but not as badly as my head. It felt like my wrists were tied together, as were my ankles. When I moved my arms, I encountered another piece of rope keeping my elbows fastened to my rib cage. I cracked open one eye to see where I was.

  There was no chance I’d fallen next to the roses. He’d dragged me out of the kitchen and into the den, next to the marble-top table.

  The humming stopped. I played possum, but it didn’t matter.

  “Vanessa, I know you’re awake.”

  I didn’t answer. Something lumpy and cold touched the side of my head, and I let out a strangled whimper.

  “I’m sorry, darling. You would have been so sorry if you’d called the cops. You had to be stopped. But I made you an ice pack.”

  My eyes flew open. Anthony was bending over me, wearing a black windbreaker. In bad light, it would have looked like a leather jacket. Damn. But it was no wonder I hadn’t guessed the peeping Tom was Anthony. He was too much of a wimp to pull off a leather jacket. He was a wimp in general. Whenever I got mad at him, he usually backed down. Well, I was mad now.

  “You had to stop me by punching me?”

  “Like slapping someone when they’re hysterical. It had to be done,” he said in a soothing voice.

  “Go to hell.”

  He looked hurt. “That’s not very nice.”

  “Untie me, right this minute.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea yet. You’re still mad at me. But you won’t stay mad at me.”

  “You want to bet?”

  “I would be happy to bet, because you’re not the only person who’s been holding things back.” He stood up. “Hold on, I have to get something from my truck.”

  Truck? What truck? Oh. Double damn. “At least put me on the couch if you’re going back to the restaurant. The floor is really hard.” Anger wasn’t working, so I tried to sound pitiful.

  He tossed the ice pack into the sink. “I can’t lift you up. Besides, I don’t have to go back to the restaurant. I went and got my truck while you were sleeping.”

  I gave up on pitiful. “I wasn’t sleeping! I was unconscious because you hit me!”

  “No,” he said. “You hit your head. You were still conscious until you hit your head.”

  I felt nauseated. It could have been a concussion, but my thoughts were also making me sick to my stomach. “Red truck? Diesel engine?”

  “That’s one of the many ways I know you’ve liked me all along.”

  “Huh?”

  “You knew I was there that night, when you first kissed Derek.”

  “But I didn’t see any facial hair, and you haven’t shaved your goatee since college.”

  “I tucked my face into the collar of my T-shirt, just in case you got a look. And I had a hat on that I’ve never worn in front of you. Good thing I did all that, too, or you wouldn’t have asked me to help you with your stalker.” He walked back into the kitchen.

  That was when I saw it. The cordless phone. It was a few feet away, partly sticking out from under the coffee table. If I could make just one call…

  The anger was wearing off, and the shock of what was going on was sinking in. “If y-y-you…” I stammered. That approach was never going to work. I needed to stay tough and keep my mind clear. I raised my voice. “If you saw me with Derek, why all the bullshit at the food court?”

  “I was testing you to see if you would be honest with me.”

  I needed to get to that phone. If I tried to call 911 and explain what was going on to the operator, I’d probably get caught. But if Derek was still angry and saw my name on caller ID, what would he do? His email was a little cold. I kept the fear off my face and my mouth closed. Anthony blew me a kiss.

  “Anyway, as soon as I knew everything was going to work out, I had to go and get some things together for my plan. I put them in your room while you were having your little nap.”

  “Things?”

  “You know what? If I show you now, I could probably untie you, because you’re going to love the plan.” He jumped up. “I’ll be back. Don’t move around, now.”

  He ran up the stairs. I flopped like a trout on the riverbank until I got the phone between my bound hands. I had to hurry. I didn’t dare roll with it back to the wall. The ceiling above me creaked, and I knew Anthony was almost to the head of the stairs. I pressed the number four and the talk button, let go and rolled back to my spot.

  If Derek didn’t answer the phone, I was screwed.

  Anthony appeared just as I settled back into position.

  As it was, he was suspicious. “Why are you moving around?”

  “Because my muscles are all cramping up, Anthony. And I don’t feel good. I might have a concussion from your hitting me. P-p-please untie me. Please.” The call was my only shot. I was completely drained of both energy and anger. God, I hoped Derek was on his way. My hands were shaking.

  “In a minute.” He set a tote bag on the kitchen counter. “Shoot! You’re distracting me. The most important thing is still in my truck.”

  “When did you get the truck?”

  “I got sick of being the cheap loser in the beater after I got fired. I’ve been saving money for years so I could buy you a house, some place where Luke had never been, but I decided I wasn’t going to buy a house in this crappy town even after I got you to be with me. Also, I thought, you know, some off-the-beaten-path driving might be in my future.”

  I couldn’t think straight anymore. “When did you get fired?”

  “Couple weeks ago. That’s when I put together my plan.” He gave me a hurt look. “I was actually coming over to tell you about it a couple weeks ago when I saw you kissing Derek through the window, and that’s when I realized I needed to step it up.”

  “Step it… Anthony, I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been watching you since college, and I’ve been waiting for you to get over Luke and n
otice me. But you didn’t. I don’t blame you, not really. When you told me you had decided to give Derek a chance, I realized I needed to take action. I’ve had the beginnings of a plan kicking around for years, so all I had to do was push the first rock downhill.”

  Pitiful. Try pitiful again, I thought. “Was scaring me with that picture part of your plan?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I was really hurt that you’d go for him instead of your choir buddy. But when you didn’t send the police after me, even though you knew I was the one who took the picture, I knew I was forgiven.”

 

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