by E. M. Shea
Mouth agape, Dani shook her head to regain her composure. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! How did he even know I had been out with Nick?”
“Umm … I might have casually mentioned it.” Shrinking into her chair, she gingerly added, “Like, super casually?”
“Great. Thanks.”
“To be honest, I was joking about the whole love him and leave him thing. Every morning I ask Jeremy to get me a double vanilla latte from the café, and he always screws up the order. You’d think I asked him to calculate pi to the fortieth decimal point. So it’s not like I could take what he said about the court hearing at face value.”
Dani shook her head as she tried to circumnavigate the surrealism of the moment. “Wait a sec. Pi? You actually know what that is?”
“I’ll have you know I aced algebra in college.”
“And you ask Jeremy to get you a latte like he’s your personal office boy? He was hired as a junior lawyer, you know.”
“Of course I know! I was one of the people he interviewed with. Part of the reason I gave a thumb’s up was because he seemed very malleable.”
Dani raised an eyebrow. “Malleable?”
“Like putty.” Margaret worked her fingers around an imaginary sponge ball. “He reeks of ambition. Which means he’ll suck it up and do what I ask, no matter how demeaning. Now, if he reeked of testosterone, I’d have him serve up a double orgasm every morning. But … well, you’ve seen him.”
“I feel a male Me Too movement coming on.”
“It’s called payback, honey. Anyways, I honestly didn’t realize you were on the outs with Nick. And I got to say—I’m kind of hurt that you didn’t fill me in on any of the latest.”
“I was planning to tell you at lunch, actually. I’m behind on some work, and I’ve been trying to play catch up all morning.”
“So you mean to tell me things ended because you were on opposite sides of a court case?”
Dani sighed. “I don’t think things ever actually started. We got together because we both felt kind of obligated to carry out the charity date.” A meaningful pause. “I don’t know if you heard, but some crazy woman set us up.”
Margaret pointed to herself wide-eyed as though she was just learning of her personal role in the matter.
“Then two hours of surprisingly decent conversation and three extra-strong apple martinis later, we ended up at his place and uh …”
Margaret repeatedly thrusted her pelvis up from the chair. “You had a banging good time—and I’m not talking about his service revolver!”
Dani rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. You get the picture. But it was a mistake.”
“Good sex is never a mistake.”
“I’m not sure I agree with that.”
Margaret did a double-take. “What—am I going to see you on the latest cover of Prudes R Us Magazine?”
Dani half laughed. “I don’t mean it that way. I guess it all depends on what your end game is. If it’s a one-night stand with someone you’ll never see again, that’s one thing. But if you are going to see them again and there’s any potential that it could be something more …”
“Do you honestly think it could have been, given the animosity between the two of you in court? I don’t think that would have changed. Unless you become a prosecutor and he switches over to school crossing guard.”
If there was one thing Dani appreciated about Margaret—as over the top as she could be—it was that she knew enough when to dial it back and provide some helpful insights.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said, defeat in her voice. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to go down without a fight. “On the other hand, it’s very possible that we’d never be facing each other in court again. He’s a police officer, not a lawyer. Sure, he gets called to testify now and then when he makes an arrest that goes to trial, but I’ve been dealing mostly with civil cases. I can’t imagine he’d ever have anything to do with one of those.”
“Except that Leland has lots of friends who need favors,” Margaret observed, providing a much-needed reality check. “Actually, some aren’t really his friends until they get caught with their pants down. Literally, if you remember Carl Breck. CEO of a Fortune 500 company by day, crazy-ass peeper by night. Then they’re on the phone, ‘Leland, my good buddy, remember me from our days at Snob-ville Boys Academy’ blah, blah, blah.” She pointed at Dani. “And then you get pulled into the case because Leland knows you’re their best chance of winning.”
Dani frowned. “Putting it that way makes me almost want to side with Nick.”
“Really? Because it seems like he has an issue with pretty much anyone who gets a dropped or reduced sentence.”
Dani knew it wasn’t that black and white, but also that Margaret had enough of a point to make it not worth arguing.
“I know it sucks,” Margaret said, her voice dropping several decibels as genuine compassion kicked in. “And I’m truly sorry for my role in any of this.”
“It’s not your fault.” Dani forced a smile in the hope that it would kickstart similarly happy feelings in her heart. Nope. But it was worth a try.
◆◆◆
Nick took a bite of his hamburger and then dropped it back on the paper plate. It tasted fine, but his usual hearty appetite had been dialed back a notch—or two or three—the past few days, and even his typical go-to lunch fare held little appeal. Picking up a plastic fork, he pushed some coleslaw around the plate, stopping only when Gus smacked the picnic table from his lumbering perch on the opposing bench.
“Okay, what do I gotta do—grab the fork and play choo-choo train to get some food down your throat?”
“You do and you’ll be drawing back a stub.”
Gus chortled heartily. “What, you’re gonna saw off my arm with a plastic knife?”
The two were seated in a shady spot outside of Bob’s Burger Shack, a popular lunchtime stop during the warmer months. Heading into September, the leaves were already starting to change color, but a warm breeze confirmed that this year’s Indian Summer was not quite ready to make room for full-bloom autumn.
Nick eyed the spread laid out in front of Gus: Four chili hot dogs, two servings of fries, a near-bucket size container of potato salad, and a two-liter bottle of cola. “You practicing for the next hot dog eating contest?”
Gus shrugged off the observation. “You kidding? I already got that in the bag. This is just a little appetizer to hold me over till dinner.”
Nick sighed. “I thought I told you no chili when we’re working. Last time I had to leave the windows open during a downpour.”
Gus looked up at the sky. “No rain in sight, so we’re good.” He raised a grease-dripping chili dog as a mock toast, then stuffed three-quarters of it into his mouth.
Nick’s downturned lips said it all, but he nevertheless felt compelled to add, “That’s just not right.”
“Look, don’t take it out on me because you screwed things up with the hot lawyer chick.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, that is why you’ve been moping around for the past couple of days, isn’t it?” He paused, carefully adding, “I’m speaking to you now as a friend, not a subordinate. I can do that and not get fired—right?”
“If I didn’t let some of the things you say go because we’ve known each other for so long, I’d have fired your ass a long time ago.”
“Kay. Good to know. Anyhow, I think you’re being a dick about this whole thing.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Not that I can’t change my policy on firing friends.”
“I’m just saying this out of concern for you, that’s all. Sometimes you’re a little too … I don’t know … Mister Goody Two Shoes.”
“Mister Goody Two Shoes? That sounds like an expression my grandmother would say. And even she’s too cool to use it. Besides, that is so far from what’s going on here.” Pause. “Or was going on.”
“I think it’s right on the mark. You dumped hot lawyer chick—”
&n
bsp; “Dani!”
“Right, Dani. Okay. Let me come at this from another angle. If you had to make a list of things you like about her—besides the obvious boinking—what would they be?”
Nick sighed. “Don’t tell me this is one of those Doctor Love Rocket things.”
“Nope. Remember when I was dating Ms. November?”
“You mean that nurse from Boston General?”
It had been nearly three years ago, but Nick could still recall Gus parading around the department while waving a page from a calendar that featured attractive medical professionals from city hospitals. Given how that whole misadventure had turned out for Gus, it should have been a red flag to stay away from any couplings that were charity related.
“Well, when things started go south—which was approximately two weeks into dating—she insisted I go with her to one of her therapy sessions.”
Nick’s eyes snapped open. “Really? You never told me this.”
“Yeah, kind of not the thing most dudes want to brag about. But I have to say—it was pretty interesting. Her therapist was trying to get to the bottom of whether we had anything in common besides mutually attracted genitals. So she made us each write down things we considered to be positive attributes about the other.”
“Did you have any?”
“Sure. I said she was loyal, compassionate and a good cook.”
“Gus, she was two-timing—make that four-timing—you all along.”
“Right. But I didn’t know it at the time.” He paused to take the final bite of the last chili dog. “And she was a good cook.”
Nick shook his head, hoping to rattle loose even a vague understanding of where Gus was going with all this.
“So, let’s hear it,” Gus said between guzzles of soda. “Is there anything you actually like about Dani?”
“Of course.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, Oprah. Well, obviously she’s super smart.”
Gus coaxed him on with a roll of his hand.
“She mentioned once that she does pro bono work for a women’s shelter, which shows she cares about others and is not just out for money.”
Another hand roll.
“She really likes her cat.”
The hand roll halted in mid-air. “Gotta say, never pictured you a cat person.”
“I do prefer dogs, but point being she has a maternal side—at least with animals.”
“Keep ’em coming.”
“She seems close to her family.”
Gus plunked the nearly empty jumbo-sized bottle of soda down on the table. “So she does legal work for free for disadvantaged women. Dotes on a cat. Remembers every family member’s birthday. But because of that onnnneee teeny weeny little detail of cutting you off at the balls in court a couple of times, you’re going to throw away what could end up being a very beautiful happily ever after?”
Nick picked up the soda bottle and peered inside before slamming it back down. “You do know that lacing your drink with crack will get you fired, right?”
“Just pointing out the obvious. By the way, since you did bring up Doctor Love Rocket earlier …”
Nick grimaced. “My mistake.”
“Anyways, he has these sayings that I will admit are corny, but they kind of make sense, too. One of them is ‘Doctor Love Rocket say ... don’t rock-it your future away.’ That’s rock it not rocket. As in getting your rocks off too soon before the relationship can get off the ground.” Gus stopped and looked upwards as he pondered further. “I suppose he also means rocking your hips together as in—”
“Yeah,” Nick interjected, “I get the picture.” He stood up from the bench, tossing his plate of mostly uneaten food into the trashcan by the table. “Gus, my man, I just have two words that I’m sure you’ve heard nearly every day of your adult life.”
“Let me see … fuck off? Drop dead? No—wait a sec.” He flashed an ear-to-ear grin. “Do me? Uh, uh … super anaconda?”
“In your dreams. More like you’re clueless.”
Gus stood up and stretched his meaty arms out, then patted his swollen belly. “Mmm mmm, that was good.” He tossed his plate and soda bottle in the trash and recycling barrel, then turned to Nick. “I’ll just say one more thing. I know you got screwed over bad with Kendra. Personally, I never cared for her that much.”
Surprise registered on Nick’s face. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“What can I say? I’m clueless, remember? Besides, it’s not like I had any dirt on her that I could tip you off on. Just a—what do they call it—a vibe I got the few times I met her. She seemed phony to me, that’s all. And I’m not Doctor Love Rocket, but I think he would say that maybe you’re not willing to give someone else a chance because of what happened with her.”
“Please. The situation with Dani is problematic all on its own.”
“Whatever you say, boss. But before we go, I gotta take a leak.”
“Of course you do. You just drank two liters of soda!”
“Be right back,” Gus said as he headed off for the small cabin of restrooms.
Nick climbed into the Explorer and sighed, leaning back in his seat against the headrest and closing his eyes. Maybe Gus had a point. Possibly even a few. But his last encounter with Dani—enjoyable as it was in the moment—only served to convince him that there hadn’t been anything of substance between them to begin with.
Or was there? He thought of the dinner that had preceded their quick hop into bed. The surprisingly smooth flow of conversation. The quick banter and easy laughter. The shared interest in helping others less fortunate. Was Doctor Love Rocket right? Could things have turned out differently if they had taken it slower? Maybe. But then there was the whole other can of worms that had already erupted into a bucket of snakes—the seemingly unresolvable incompatibility of their livelihoods. So really, it was an inevitable conclusion.
Still, there was one thing that Doctor Love Rocket failed to address about situations like this. When you met someone and bad sparks turned into good sparks, only to flip again into can’t-work sparks … well, it sucked. Plain and simple.
“What do you have to say about that, Doctor Love Rocket?” Nick murmured out loud. He turned his head just in time to catch Gus eyeing him bemusedly from the open passenger window. “Don’t ask.”
Gus opened the door. “Wasn’t going to.” As he sank into the seat, a loud fart bellowed through the already stagnant air.
“Goddamn it,” Nick growled as he hurriedly pressed the window button downwards.
Gus turned to him, a satisfied smile plastered across his face. “What?”
“What do you mean, what? Like I didn’t just actually hear you rip one out?”
“I think you’re imagining things.”
“Really? And I suppose I’m also imagining the smell of methane clouds on steroids?”
Gus pointed straight ahead. “Drive. We have places to go and people to arrest.”
“You’re lucky there’s no law against crapping in your pants, or else you’d be one of them.”
Gus answered him with a 20-second back-end rumble that nearly shook the SUV interior.
Pursing his lips and holding his breath, Nick turned on the ignition and blasted the AC before shifting the SUV into reverse. As he backed out of the parking area, he could only surmise one thing. Between the situation with Dani and the gaseous partner beside him … life at the moment sure as hell did stink.
Chapter Fourteen
Dani glanced down at the speedometer as she rounded a curve on Granite Highway, roughly a quarter mile shy of the same spot where Nick had first pulled her over. Fifty-eight miles per hour, so a mere eight miles over the speed limit. For her, that was a record of restraint. Still, she eased off the gas pedal until the pointer dropped back to 50 mph. No, make that 51, she thought. It was a slight act of rebellion, but if felt good nonetheless.
Nearly a month had passed since the last time she and Nick had been tog
ether, their ugly parting still cutting deep enough to leave emotional skewer marks in her side. That she was not the kind of person to fall easily only made it more incomprehensible that Nick—so opposite from the type of guy she thought she should be attracted to—would be the one whom she had to forcefully expel from her mind. But expel she did, again and again. One of these days, she told herself, he would depart her thoughts for good. It was simply the way that time worked. Or so it always had … but time was definitely dragging its feet in this particular situation.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of the Southeastern Massachusetts Women’s Center. The older brick building was almost a comforting sight, instantly connecting Dani with the many feel-good moments that had come from her efforts on behalf of the women who sought refuge—whether literally or figuratively—at the center. Once inside, Kristin Welch, the center director, greeted her warmly as always.
“So good to see you, Dani,” she said, clasping her hand in a gentle shake. A tall, slender, regal-looking woman in her early 50s with a glowing complexion and a salt and pepper bob, Kristen was almost what you would imagine if you closed your eyes and said: show me a highly educated woman from a privileged background who traded in a six-figure job for the chance to help others for a cause she strongly believed in. Yes, that was a mouthful, but it summed Kristen up to a tee. In the three years since she had been volunteering her time at the center, Dani had come to think of Kristen as a good friend, and certainly someone whose choices in life roundly merited her respect.
“We’re at capacity right now so you have your choice of cases to work on,” Kristen said, though Dani couldn’t recall when the center was anything but operating at full throttle. “Although there is someone in particular I’d really like you to meet. She’s from Cedarsville. Now that that’s your hometown, I thought you might be interested in hearing her situation. She’s a young mother with two kids and an abusive ex-husband who’s still causing trouble.”
