by Hadley Quinn
I needed something for my headache, which was still killing me. After taking some ibuprofen, I sat on the couch to think of what to text Nat. I drew a blank. Was she mad at me? Why’d she leave? I was only in the fucking shower; it’s not like I blew her off completely.
Finally I sent a text asking where she went. When the microwave beeped, I grabbed the dish and sat down with it just as she texted back.
Home
That’s all she replied. And to be honest, it bothered me. Maybe I didn’t have a right to be annoyed, but I was. I felt like she was snubbing me for something she shouldn’t be holding against me.
I didn’t text back. Sorry, but not really sorry. I just don’t play those kinds of games with chicks. I was automatically wary that she was trying to work her way into my life permanently, and frankly, I just wasn’t ready to be cornered like that. I’d warned her, and I wasn’t going to apologize for my lack of conversation or attentiveness upon returning home from a long day. It made me think of a girl I dated for less than two weeks. Leslie. She acted like the world revolved around her and she eventually drove me nuts. I felt like nothing I did was good enough, and it wore me the fuck out.
I wasn’t going to make that same mistake twice.
However, after an hour passed and I’d had my ass parked on the couch for a bit, I at least had the conscience to text Natalie a thank you for dinner and that it was really good. Maybe I was expecting more of a conversation from her instead of what she actually replied with, but then again, maybe I deserved it.
She sent me a goddamn thumb’s up.
17
“The waitress I had was just a doll, and the entire theatre was clean and comfortable. I can’t wait until I can return for another movie. I had so much fun!”
I listened to Sinclair recap an experience at a posh movie theatre that served dinner while you lounged on a couch. I’d heard of the place but had never been. Of course my thoughts went straight to what I might be doing on a couch with a date and it didn’t include watching the movie.
As I pulled into the parking lot at my firm, I shut off my phone that had been playing the recorded segment. It was almost nine-thirty on a Monday morning; I was more than a half an hour later than normal. I’d not only slept through my alarm, but it took me longer than usual to get my ass out of bed. I’d felt like a zombie all weekend.
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Madden jested as I passed his office. I heard him get up from his desk and he was right behind me as I entered my own office. “You kind of look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.” I dumped my bag on the worktable like I didn’t even care. My neat-freakiness and routine would have to take a back seat today. “I think I’m getting sick.”
“Noooo,” he groaned dramatically, dropping into a chair. He twisted in it as he flicked a pen in his hand. “We’ve got preseason basketball tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m probably not going to make it. I think I’m only going to be in here for a few hours and then I’m heading home to bed.”
“Maybe you should go to the doctor. Get some drugs in you and you’ll be good as new.”
I shook my head. The northwest had been in switch-mode the past week, moving from summer into fall. “I already know what’s wrong. Allergies are kicking my ass.”
“Take some Benadryl.”
“I will when I get home. It knocks me the fuck out, though. No point taking it now.”
“Try some of that twenty-four hour stuff. The non-drowsy one.”
I waved it off. I really didn’t feel like talking about stupid allergies right now. I rarely ever got sick. Only when spring hit, and then fall. That was it.
“Hey, you hear where Sinclair is headed next?” Madden asked with a goofy smile. It was obvious he was eager to tell me.
My head was so cloudy, I wasn’t even sure if I remembered from five minutes ago. But then I said, “Oh, uh, the local breweries, right?”
“Fuck yeah!” He giggled like a little girl. A girl. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give to be her date. Seriously.”
He stared off into space a bit, like he was fantasizing about her. It made me wonder if he had some kind of real interest for this mystery chick, more than just a hard-on for her voice.
“Why don’t you do some digging and find out.” I moved my laptop to my desk and sat down, but flipped on my main drafting computer instead. I’d been up late studying notes for a particular home design and I wanted to get them started before the inspiration left.
“Find what out?” Madden inquired. He was now leaning forward on his knees, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know, find out who she is.”
He snorted. “Right.”
I looked up from my computer and stared at him. “Go talk to Emmet.”
“Whaaaat?” he asked in a high-pitched squeak. “You want me to, like, open an investigation?”
I chuckled as I stood to retrieve my notes from my bag. When I had them in hand, I dropped back into my desk chair. “Emmet would do what he could if you asked. You know that.”
“He’d do what he could if you asked,” Madden corrected. “You’re his favorite. He loves you like a son because of your Pops.”
It was true. Emmet Greene had been my father’s partner at the Portland Police Bureau for almost fourteen years, pretty much since we’d moved to Oregon. He didn’t have any kids and had never married; he cared about Chloe and I enough to check on us now and then.
“I have something else I need to ask him, so I guess I could slip that in there too.”
Madden laughed, but his eyes became animated. “My God, it never even crossed my mind to ask Emmet. Are we seriously gonna find out who this Sinclair lady is? I’m fucking dying to know.”
I was too, but I didn’t dare admit it. It wasn’t like I wanted some relationship with this stranger, but I truly did want to know who she was. I hated surprises, and I hated mysteries. I hated not knowing something about a person.
I had trust issues, and it even came down to this enigmatic character on a radio station.
“Yeah, I can do that for you,” I answered. For Madden. I would do it for my buddy.
“I fucking love you, Dane. I swear, I will owe you beer for the rest of your life.”
“You can owe Emmet the beer because I’ll feel a bit indebted to him myself.”
Madden stood from the chair. “What do you mean? What do you already need from him?”
I paused and turned in my seat to face him. I took a few seconds to debate how much I wanted to share with Madden, but basically told him everything about Natalie’s brother. He’d pulled the chair over and sat across from me. I sat there at my desk, fingers steepled off and on—I was a steepler—and filled him in on Davey.
Finally Madden nodded, seeming to think. “Well, I see where you’re worried. The kid could easily go down a shitty path even with a good one right in front of him. You think about asking Emmet for some help on that if you do find out Davey’s still dealing?”
Yes, I’d thought about it. But the question was, how much of it was my problem? I didn’t want to be in business that wasn’t mine, but at the same time, a young person’s life was at risk. And Natalie’s. I didn’t want her having to struggle with this kind of situation in her life. Again.
“I guess I’ll consult with Nat first. It’s her brother. I don’t want to do something that will piss her off or make things worse.”
“Like what? If he’s doing illegal shit, that’s on him.”
“Yeah, but where do I take that? He could go to jail if he’s caught. That could go either way for him.”
He paused. “You’re right. Some guys have a huge wakeup call, others use it as an excuse to hate the world and implement ‘payback.’”
That was exactly it, and just as Madden was finishing up his point, Davey entered my office with a box of donuts. He set them on the worktable after I declined, but Madden helped himself. Davey was just about to leave the office when I said, “Hey, Dave, you got
a minute?”
Madden left with a donut in each hand, shutting the door with his foot on the way out.
Davey cautiously made his way back across the room. I could tell he was wary of what I might say.
“Have a seat.” I motioned to the chair Madden had left empty, and Davey sat. “Hey, uh, I just wanted to ask you…”
I really didn’t know what I wanted to ask him. I’m not sure why I felt stoic enough to even have a little sit-down with this guy. I wasn’t afraid of him at all, but I was afraid of what the wrong questioning might do. I didn’t want to spook him or make him feel threatened. I didn’t want my genuine concern to backfire on me.
He seemed impatient, so I shrugged and said, “Uh, I can’t make it to the Blazers’ preseason game tonight. You want my ticket? Clive reserved a suite upstairs for the company. Only a few of us are basketball fans, though, so it’s a few of us and friends we invite.” I pulled out my wallet to remove the ticket, and then slid it across the desk. “Madden and Natalie will be there. You’ll have fun.”
He didn’t respond right away and just eyed the ticket. Finally he slid it back and said, “Thanks, but I have to work. The real job.”
I ignored his dig. “What time you off?”
He shrugged. “Seven. Usually out of there by seven-thirty.”
“Ah, then that’s fine. It starts at seven-thirty, no big deal if you’re late. Those suites have people coming in at halftime.” I slid the ticket back across the desk. “Tons of free food and basketball. Jump on that, man.”
I seriously thought he’d decline again, but after a brief hesitation, he picked up the ticket. “Alright. Thanks, Dane.”
“No problem. Wish I could go, but this allergy shit is kicking my ass. Have fun. Call Nat for a ride.”
I hoped she didn’t mind, and I especially hoped she wouldn’t be mad I wasn’t going, but thankfully he nodded his head before leaving my office.
I refocused myself to get some work done, texting Natalie in between about the change of plans. She was thrilled Davey was going that night but bummed I wasn’t. Even when it hit one o’clock and she asked if she could bring me lunch, I was packing up my stuff to head home. I honestly felt like sleeping for the next twenty-four hours.
By the time I got home, she’d offered to cook for me or stop to get me something—whatever I needed. I was grateful, but I was beginning to withdraw from her attention a bit. Maybe I was just an independent guy who didn’t need a woman to take care of him, or maybe I just didn’t want to feel like I owed her anything. I honestly didn’t know which it was. Probably both. She’d never even mentioned anything about leaving my house the other night. I felt like she’d either let me off the hook, or hadn’t really cared in the first place. Maybe I was the one who had made it into something it wasn’t. I guess I was used to other females doing that and had unfairly lumped her into the ‘manipulative and controlling’ category.
After I’d parked my truck in the garage, I walked outside to coil the hose in my front yard. I’d watered my lawn a bit the day before, but the fact that I hadn’t put the hose away properly kind of irked me. Even with feeling like shit I couldn’t be sloppy for long. When it was neatly wound to my satisfaction, I stood upright to head inside.
Peter was standing right there on my walkway.
“Jesus Christ,” I growled out of sheer alarm (and dread).
I’ll admit his sudden appearance scared the shit out of me. He hadn’t said anything upon walking up to my house—and if he had, I must not have heard him—but there he was, with a stupid, condescending smile plastered to his face.
“Oh, Dane.” He tsk’d at me. “That is not a name you should be using so irresponsibly.”
My eyes wandered to the hose. I didn’t care if I unraveled it into a mess again if I could just wrap it around his fucking neck and be done with Ned Flanders.
“Well hi to you too, Peter. I guess I’m on my own turf and can speak whatever name I want.” I muttered, “I’m sure God would understand when it came to you,” under my breath.
I honestly didn’t care if I was being a dick. The guy could just not talk to me at all if he was so easily offended—
Shit. That was it, wasn’t it? Maybe if I offended him enough, he’d leave me the hell alone. I’d tried being polite and respectful, but I was at the end of my line at this point.
“I just think some people don’t understand what exactly they are doing when they use the Lord’s name in vain,” Peter answered, eyeing me with a level gaze but trying to speak kindly.
I slowly nodded, eyeing him right back. “Mmhmm. And perhaps some people don’t really give a flying fuck what you think, Pete.”
Yep. I stunned him. His eyes widened and then he blinked at me a couple of times.
“Hey Pete, you know that one thing in the bible about pointing out the splinter in someone’s eye when you’ve got a beam in your own? I’m good at interpreting stuff like that. Pretty sure it means don’t be a damn hypocrite, right? Don’t judge someone else’s life when you’ve got your own shit to improve on?”
If I’d felt one hundred percent, I might have laughed at the look on his face. Or maybe if I’d felt well, I might not have been such an asshole. Either way, he shut the hell up and turned away.
I entered my house without even checking to make sure he left. I just locked the door behind me and crashed on my bed for the rest of the day and through the night.
My neighbor could take his “holier than thou” act and shove it up his ass.
18
“Dane, I can’t just expose some woman’s identity to appease your curiosity,” Emmet said over the phone. “It’s something imperative to her job—to stay anonymous. I can’t mess with that in good conscience.”
I’d already told him the favor wasn’t exactly for me, but I chose not to correct him that time. Maybe it would only weaken my case. “Well…what if there was some kind of necessary reason…”
“You’re grasping at straws.”
At twenty-nine years old, I still didn’t know what that expression meant. “Come on, Emmet. The woman single-handedly turned my sister’s life around. I just want to thank her.”
“Then thank her. Send her an email. Send her a card. Send her flowers. But back off of her business, Dane. You could ruin her career.”
I pretty much tuned him out after “flowers” but refocused when I realized he was still talking.
“…with the other favor, but not this one. Yeah, I’ll check on Natalie’s brother.”
I nodded my head. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. But don’t you dare stick your nose in it, kid. Stay away from that fucker Danzig, you understand? Your dad would come back and haunt me for that.”
“Yes, sir.” I replied without thinking, like I was speaking to my father.
“All right, well, I’ll let you know if I got anything,” Emmet added. “I’ll see you at your birthday barbecue in a few weeks, okay?”
It took me exactly two seconds to realize he’d blabbed a secret I obviously didn’t know about yet, and just the irony of it made me smile. “Sure thing. See you there, Detective.”
He didn’t catch my sarcasm before we hung up.
I immediately tapped the radio station app on my phone. Yes, I had it on my screen. So what? Made it easier to listen to her segment instead of clicking through multiple pages each time. I browsed for a bit, trying to find a physical address I could send something to. I considered emailing her again, and upon thinking about that, I realized I’d never replied to her last message to me.
I scrolled through my phone to find it, and when I did, thought of a reply as I downed some ibuprofen for my headache. Even after coming home early the day before and taking today off, I still felt like shit. My head didn’t want to be doing all this thinking.
But if I wasn’t up-to-par for work, I figured I could dabble in someone else’s life for a bit. I chose not to respond to her email, but I did do a flower order
online. I had it sent to the radio station, and even though I was guaranteed it’d be delivered today, I knew it didn’t mean she’d get it today. Who knew what her hours were, or if she was even in the building on a daily basis, but I hoped she’d eventually get them.
I typed in a message on the online order form to go with it: Thanks for all you do to give happy experiences to others. Lame, I know.
And I e-signed Madden’s name.
I approved and completed the transaction before I could change my mind. Even if nothing came of it for Madden, at least she had a bouquet of pretty flowers to look at.
The second I dropped onto my couch to vegetate for a few hours, a knock sounded at my door. One part of me actually hoped it was Peter because I felt like shit and wanted to tangle with him for a bit.
“Oh, hey, Nat,” I said as I saw her pretty face on my porch. I motioned her in.
“Feeling better?” She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Maybe she thought I was contagious.
I shrugged as I shut the door behind us. “Nah, not really. This shit will last about five days until my body gets the message.”
“What message?”
“I don’t know, to adjust to the season changing.”
She slowly nodded but didn’t reply. She wasn’t her same, charming self right now and it was pretty obvious.
“How are you?” I asked. We both sat on the couch and she angled toward me with a leg tucked under her.
“Meh, fine I guess. Busy at work—took on a couple extra projects—and still helping Chloe during morning rush.”
“Thanks for that. I appreciate it.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Chloe.”
I wasn’t sure of her tone, and this was the kind of shit I fucking hated when it came to women. It was like I was supposed to magically know what she needed or what I should say. They always acted like they were the ones who were right one hundred percent of the time. It was like men had to constantly make up for every fucking thing we did, even when we moved or breathed.
