She stood there, just looking at him, her hairbrush in her hand.
“And now I’ve disappointed you,” he concluded.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Since when can you read my mind?” she asked.
“Since you were eleven?”
Annie had to smile at that. Ric had had an uncanny ability to show up at the least likely times, usually right when she was on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid.
Such as the time, shortly after they’d met, that she decided to go live with her grandparents in New York. Of course, she didn’t have much money—certainly not enough for a train or bus. So she’d made herself a sign on a piece of cardboard—similar to the signs she’d seen desperate-looking men holding on street corners: WILL WORK FOR FOOD, theirs had said. Hers read: WILL WORK FOR A RIDE.
In retrospect, the danger of what she’d almost done—an eleven-year-old hitchhiking hundreds of miles—took her breath away. She’d been a tough little kid, having survived all those fights between her parents—the last ones terrifyingly physical. But in so many ways she had been impossibly innocent.
Ric had not only figured out that she was leaving, but that she was planning to leave in the middle of the night—that night. He showed up, tapping on the back door at two in the morning—just as she was filling her backpack with food.
He’d come all that way because Annie’s mother had turned the ringer off on their phone. Annie’s father had managed to get their new number, and after last call, when the bars shut down in Boston, he often indulged in some heavy-duty drunk dialing.
At the time, Annie had believed that since her father found their phone number, it was only a matter of time before he showed up at their house in Sarasota. She’d tried to talk her mother into moving again, but her mother just told her they were fine—without giving her any details. It was only later that Annie had discovered that her uncle Ian, who was a Boston cop, was keeping track of her father. If he disappeared, Ian would call Annie’s mother right away.
Unaware of this, Annie figured if she went to Grandma’s, her mother and Bruce would soon follow—and they’d all be safe there.
That night, Ric not only talked Annie out of leaving, but he figured out her motive, and he got her to talk—for the first time since it happened—about what it had been like to see her father hitting her mother—and then to have him turn that rage on her.
It had started the healing process—and had taught her to ask questions instead of making assumptions when she got scared.
Ric had also used his mind-reading abilities through the years to mysteriously appear when Annie had accepted a dare to climb out to the end of a rocky breakwater as the tide was coming in, and when she tried to rescue a friend who was being targeted by a middle school bully.
But he’d missed quite a few, too. Like her decision, in tenth grade, to go to that party at Skipper Gleason’s—the one where his parents were out of town, and there were four kegs of beer and about four hundred high school students hell-bent on getting drunk. Or her genius choice, senior year, to go all the way with Mike Mattson, the big loser.
Although Ric had asked her about Mike, when he found out they were dating. “You sure this guy’s good enough for you?”
At the time, Annie had been offended. “You don’t know him,” she’d defended Mike. “He’s nice. You just think all guys are like you and Bruce.”
Ric had backed down and kept his distance—and Mike, the loser, decided it would be better to just be friends after taking Annie’s virginity in the backseat of his father’s Town Car.
“You only read my mind correctly half the time,” she told Ric now.
“Five hundred is an excellent batting average,” he pointed out. “I know you, Annie. I know what you’re thinking. You don’t understand why I wouldn’t be interested in a job with a real salary, but…” He laughed, obviously embarrassed. “You’re going to think I’m crazy when I tell you this…”
“I already think you’re crazy, Alvarado, so don’t worry about it.” She kissed him as she went past him, going out the door into the hallway, toward her room, with her closet and her clothes.
He followed her in, and made himself comfortable on her bed. Apparently he was going to watch her dress.
She tried not to feel self-conscious as she took clean underwear from the dresser, and shorts and a T-shirt from the shelf in the closet.
But then he said, “You know I left the police force because I killed this kid, right?”
And Annie forgot about getting dressed. She wrapped her towel more tightly around her and sat down on the other end of the bed to give him her full attention. “No,” she said. “The story I heard is that he almost killed you.”
“Almost is one of those words that doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot in this business. You’re dead or you’re not. I wasn’t. He was.” Ric looked down at the spread on her bed. “He was the tenth for the precinct, for that year.” He looked back up at her with eyes that were haunted. “Tenth kill.”
Annie reached out and touched him—her hand on his. “I didn’t know.”
“I quit,” he said quietly as he laced their fingers together. “But I guess I didn’t really think it through. I thought I did. I thought if I worked for myself, then I could take the jobs I wanted, maybe do something worthwhile that didn’t include a body count. Instead I’m breaking up marriages—getting evidence for divorces. It really sucks. My one most lucrative job was retrieving what’s-his-name.”
“John Beasley.” Annie would never forget him—or the fact that his brother Frank had kicked Ric in the side so hard that he’d peed blood. Over the past few days, between the two of them, they’d acquired an impressive collection of fresh scrapes, nicks, and bandages. But she could still see a faint trace of the bruise that Frank Beasley had given Ric two weeks ago.
Ric smiled at the vitriol in her voice. “I didn’t enjoy that job very much, either. And yeah, he’s a scumbag who kicked the crap out of his girlfriend, so I can try to pretend that putting him in jail was a good thing, but…Turns out she deals drugs to high school students but they don’t have the evidence to bring her in, so who am I saving here, you know?” His smile faded. “Gunning down some kid who accidentally killed his own cousin…I wasn’t helping anyone, Annie. I was a youth officer for a while, until budget cuts took away the position.”
The muscle jumped in his jaw. “I think that was why I was so eager to take Lillian’s case. I actually thought I could help her. You know, find closure for her, for her daughter’s death.” Ric laughed his disdain. “Instead, it’s more bullshit. Instead, I’m the big freaking hero by saving Gordie Burns Junior—and I end up putting your life in danger. Christ, it’s like I’m this force of nature, destroying everything in my path.”
Annie squeezed his hand. “No, you’re not.”
“That’s what it feels like,” he told her. “I come from this world where everyone—everyone—is creative.”
She knew that he’d spent a lot of time as a child in his father’s recording studio, and when he wasn’t there, he was home, where his mother was painting.
“The musical-talent gene obviously skipped a generation,” he continued. “I love listening, but…And you’ve seen me draw.”
She couldn’t hide her smile. Yes, she had. Playing Pictionary with Ric had always been hilarious. “There are other ways to be creative.”
He nodded. “That’s what I always thought, but…”
He was silent then, and Annie just waited, because she knew he wasn’t done.
“I just…This isn’t what I want to do,” he admitted. “The private investigations thing. It’s just not. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and…I’m going to shut down the business. Or at least really revamp it.” He looked up at her. “No more divorces. No more destruction.”
Annie nodded. “Ric, I’ve done your books. Without the divorce cases…You ear
ned approximately three hundred dollars last year finding lost dogs.”
“No more lost dogs, either,” he told her. “Unless it’s Pierre.”
“Then…?” She had no idea where he was going with this.
He smiled. “This is the crazy part.”
Annie waited.
“I really like the idea of helping to keep someone safe,” Ric told her. “It wasn’t until Robin said that he was looking for a head of security that I realized…I mean, I know he’s just a movie star. It wouldn’t be like protecting a head of state or…But I like him. I like his work and I like him as a person. He’s in a vulnerable position because of his sexual orientation and it shouldn’t be that way. He’s going to need to find someone that he trusts to handle his security—someone who already knows his secrets. Someone who’ll help keep him safe as well as protect his right to privacy.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. Ric wanted to work for Robin? It had been so obvious that Robin wanted Jules to work for him. But she didn’t want to start listing the reasons why Ric’s idea wouldn’t and couldn’t work.
She didn’t have to. Ric was right there, with her. “I know when he brought it up, he was talking to Cassidy, but that’s not going to happen. Jules isn’t leaving the Bureau.” He leaned toward her. “But I’m perfect for the job. I appreciate creative people. Most people think they’re nuts, but I understand them. And I’m good at what I do. So if it’s okay with you, I’m going to approach Robin. See if he’ll settle for me. Us. If…you want there to be an us.”
“Ric,” she said, her heart in her throat, uncertain how she was going to say this.
But he stopped her. “You should think about it,” he said. “Along with everything else. I mean, you never gave me an answer to, um, my proposal. Which is okay,” he quickly added. “I guess I hoped you wouldn’t have to think about it, but…” He laughed—a rueful burst. “Of course maybe the answer’s already a given. If you’re pregnant…”
Annie had to look away, because now he was looking at her as if he wanted to give getting her pregnant another go.
“Most guys don’t find that a turn-on,” she pointed out.
“I never did before,” he admitted. “But now…” His hand was warm as he slipped it beneath her towel, his palm pressed against her belly. “The thought of you walking around with something of mine, growing inside of you…” He kissed her, and his hand slipped lower.
Oh, God. “Ric.” Annie caught his wrist. “Remember how you said when you’re with me you always end up doing something crazy? Well, this really is one of those times.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
“I’m not talking about the job with Robin thing,” she told him. “Although you should probably think about that a little more, too. It’s…your other idea that’s, well, insane.”
“All right,” Ric said. “I get where you’re coming from, and okay, after some of the things I’ve said and done, particularly lately, sending out all these mixed signals…I understand how you could think that I’m, you know, less than sincere—”
“I don’t doubt your sincerity,” Annie interrupted him. “I think you think that you meant what you said, especially when you said it. And maybe you’ll be able to convince yourself that it’s true for a while. Maybe even for a few months, because, yes, the sex is incredible. But come on…”
Her blunt honesty hurt him. She could see it on his face, in his eyes. But he was trying hard not to get angry. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said. “Because you’re wrong.”
“You don’t have to marry me for us to have sex like that,” she tried to reassure him. “I’ll come back after this is over—I’m going to come back.”
“Good,” he said. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to come find you and, wow, that sounded creepy. I didn’t mean it to sound like a threat.”
“I know,” Annie told him. “Look, after I come back, we can both get tested, and as long as we’re both healthy, I can start taking the pill. Although, if you cheat on me, and put me at risk, I’ll never forgive you. And I do mean that as a very real threat.”
“I would never put you at risk,” Ric said. But then he looked away. “Except I did, just this morning, didn’t I?”
“I was there, too,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m the man.” He smiled. “I said that just to piss you off. How’m I doing?”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Extremely well.”
“Annie, do you love me?”
It was a question she’d never in a million years expected him to ask her, not point-blank like that. And now he was watching her, like a police detective scrutinizing a suspect during questioning.
“I don’t know.” It was stupid to lie, but she was flustered. She looked away. “I really don’t.”
Ric nodded, taking it as truth—or at least choosing not to challenge her. He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was just one word. “No.”
Annie didn’t understand. “No?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She still didn’t get it.
“I was going to say okay to the whole let’s get tested and have lots of sex plan,” he explained. “I was going to ask you how long, you know, it would take before you believed me. Six months? A year, maybe two?” He was watching her closely. “Two would do it, huh?”
Annie laughed her disbelief, because, yes, two years with Ric probably would convince her of his sincerity. God, the idea that he might have actually meant what he said, that he actually loved her…It was almost too much to bear. “What did I do, twitch?”
“No,” Ric said. “I just know you.”
“Oh, you know me, but I don’t know you?”
“I think if you stopped and really thought about it,” Ric said, “you would trust me. I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never tried to bullshit you—well, not for the things that mattered. This isn’t about me at all—this is about you being scared. You don’t want to love me. I know you’ve convinced yourself that I’m not capable of a real relationship, and I know the thing with Lillian kind of sealed it for you, but damn it, Annie, look at me, and trust me when I tell you that I’m not that man.”
“Oh,” Annie said, grabbing onto the obvious, because getting mad was something she could handle. “Oh, good. Bring up Lillian. Unbelievable.”
“I kissed her,” Ric said, “because I was scared, too. I was scared of everything I was feeling for you—”
“That is such a load of crap—”
He was getting pissed now, too. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No,” she said. “Because I’m too scared.”
“Great,” Ric said. “Very mature.” He stood up. “My answer’s no. If you don’t want all of me, you’re not getting any.”
Annie laughed. “So…what does that mean? You’re going to withhold sex…?”
“Yup. I’m not going to be your toy. You either love me or you don’t, and if you love me, you’re going to have to trust me. It’s that simple.”
“Does the phrase cutting off your nose to spite your face mean anything to you?” she asked.
But Ric didn’t answer her. He just gently closed her door behind him.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
“We found a body to play the part of your dead ex-girlfriend,” Jules reported to Ric via cell phone. Jules shut his hotel-room door behind him, taking off his jacket and tie. Lordy, he was tired. The maid hadn’t been in yet to do up his room, but that was fine—he was going back to bed. “It’s in transit. ETA two o’clock. I don’t want to call Gordie Junior until we actually deliver it to you.” God forbid Junior offer to come by and clean things up right away. “We’re going to need a couple hours to implant the tracking devices—we’re using a high-tech system that won’t be discernible to any bug sweepers that are currently on the market. We’ve also got to get her dressed in the same clothes Lillian was wearing.”
“It’s going
to take that long, huh?” On the other end of the phone, Ric didn’t sound very happy.
“Yeah, you know, getting this done involved just a little more work than a phone call to Bodies ‘R’ Us.” Jules couldn’t keep the testiness out of his own voice as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants.
“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.
“No,” Jules said, flopping back on his bed. “I apologize. I’m just…really tired. I’m going to use this time to get some sleep.”
“Before you go,” Ric said. “Have you been in touch with Robin? Because Annie’s going to go over to his hotel, do the black-eye thing. I thought we could tie it into last night’s brawl. You know, have Annie leave because she’s mad about my ex showing up?”
“I haven’t spoken to him this morning,” Jules said, closing his eyes. “No.”
“Um,” Ric said after a few moments of silence. “Will you call him? Or…I wasn’t sure if you wanted to give out his phone number…”
Crap. Jules really needed to give Ric a heads-up about the whole Robin situation.
“I’ll give it to you,” he said, staring now at the ceiling, “but before you talk to him, and definitely before you send Annie over there, you need to go online. YouTube dot-com. Do a search for Robin Chadwick. Our friend was pretty busy last night. You may not want Annie anywhere near the media circus that’s going to be following him around over the next few days.” He laughed. “On the other hand, maybe that’s the safest place in the world she could be, with an army of paparazzi protecting her. It’s your call, of course.”
He gave Robin’s cell phone number to Ric and shut his phone and his eyes.
Please God, don’t let his phone ring again. Please God, don’t let him think about Robin or Ben. Please God, just let him fall into a state of total unconsciousness. Please God, help him get this stupid song out of his head…
I can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me…
Jules turned over, pulling the covers up practically over his head. Think about the time he went to that spa in Provincetown and had a hot-stone massage. Think about the beautiful hills and scenery of Italy, where he’d actually taken a vacation last year. Think about how, back when he was a kid, his mother would sit beside him at bedtime to talk about his day. She’d pretend that his stuffed hippo was trying to sneak up on him, to jump on his head. The attack hippo, they’d called it. The hippo would always get him when he least expected it, and they’d laugh and laugh…
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