Foolish Me Page 24

I hadn’t noticed Browne’s pinky finger was missing, but now I did, and I looked away. That didn’t stop me from listening to what they were saying.

  “I wouldn’t have lost it if it hadn’t been for him.”

  “No, you’d be dead. I’m telling you—”

  “No. I’m telling you. I could take him away from Schmidt just like that.” And he snapped his fingers.

  “You think so?”

  “Sure. Max risked his life for me. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t have feelings for me.”

  “And you thanked him for that by refusing to commit.”

  “Committing is for lunatics. You don’t see Vincent doing that, do you?”

  “What Mr. Vincent does is none of my business.”

  “Just like what I do is none of your business either. You should be worrying about your spin doctor.”

  “He’s not a spin doctor, but Alex and I are okay.”

  “Right,” Browne scoffed. “That’s why he was on his knees under his boss’s desk.”

  “Fuck you.” The elevator arrived, and they entered it. “You’ve lost Max, and y’know what? It serves you right.” Howard glanced at the security man again, and the grim expression in his eyes lightened a bit. “You stay like that, Young, he’s gonna expect at least dinner.”

  Intrigued by their conversation, I hadn’t been paying much attention to the security man. Apparently just as intrigued, he’d neglected to remove his hand from between my legs.

  He turned a dull red, said, “Sorry,” and then he finished frisking me.

  “Max had every reason to expect….” The doors closed on the rest of their conversation, and I kind of wondered what “Max” had a reason to expect. But I had other things to worry about.

  Satisfied that somehow I hadn’t managed to secure contraband between the first and seventh floors, Young led me down a long corridor to a door that looked no different from any other. He opened it and gestured for me to enter.

  “This is Mr. Bascopolis, Ms. Parker.”

  “Thank you, Young.” Vince’s secretary—I’d had no idea he had a secretary, but if Wills had one, it made sense that Vince would too—glanced at me with discreet interest and rose to her feet. “If you’ll come this way, Mr. Bascopolis?” She tapped on the inner door and opened it without waiting for a response. “Mr. Bascopolis, sir.” She stood aside to let me enter.

  “Thank you, Ms. Parker. You can leave for the day.” Vincent lounged against his desk, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his arms folded across his chest.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell Ms. DiNois she can leave also, would you please?” Wills, his back stiff with tension, stood looking out the wall of windows. The view wasn’t bad if you liked looking at the darkened windows of the building across the street.

  “Yes, sir. Have a good weekend, Mr. Vincent, Mr. Matheson.” She closed the door behind her.

  No one spoke. I used the excuse of looking around to give myself some time to gather my thoughts. There was a potted plant in one corner and a framed movie poster on a wall with the words, “Who is Keyser Söze?” beneath the semicircle of men who stood in poses running the gamut from indifferent to mocking to tense. A bottle of Dewar’s and a glass were on the L-shaped desk. Other than the desk and a couple of chairs, the only furniture in the room was a low stand with a TV/VCR combo sitting on it.

  “Uh… nice office, Vince.”

  “Yeah. Matheson, rewind the tape and play it for Theo.”

  “Sir….” Wills finally turned around. His lips were folded in a thin, white line and his face was pale, but his eyes—I’d never seen that expression in them before, a combination of pain and fury and despair.

  “I said rewind it.”

  “Yes, sir.” He clenched his hands into fists, walked stiffly to the TV, and crouched before it.

  “Wills?”

  He didn’t look at me, and my gut churned and my heart began to thud painfully. The silence was broken by the whirring sound of the tape rewinding, and then the harsh click as it stopped.

  Vincent placed one of the chairs in front of the television. “You’d better sit down.”

  Reluctantly, I perched on the edge of the chair. “What….” I swallowed hard. “What am I going to see? You know I don’t like monster movies, right?” I tried to lighten the mood.

  It wasn’t much of a success.

  Wills pressed the play button.

  The camera was focused on the two figures on the bed, but I didn’t need it to zoom in on the boy and the man to recognize that it was me and Franky, in the shabby house he had brought me to the night Poppa had thrown me out.

  “Oh, Jesus.” My insides felt as if they were encased in ice. That explained the expression on his face. Wills had watched this, was watching this again.

  I bit back a moan. This couldn’t get any worse.

  But then it did.

  Wills made a sound, and I buried my face in my hands. “No more. Please. Turn it off.”

  “Is that you?”

  “Why, Vince?” Mark Vincent had never struck me as being intentionally cruel. “Why make me watch this?”

  “Because I needed to be sure it was you.”

  “It’s me.” I couldn’t remember ever feeling such hopelessness. Vincent wouldn’t have to tell Wills it was me or his job. After seeing this tape, Wills would have no problem walking out of my life. I rose to face Vincent, nearly causing the chair to tip over. “How did you get this?” Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.

  “Long story. Suffice it to say that it came into my possession a few hours ago. Are there any more copies?”

  “I don’t know. I thought this one had been destroyed. He promised me….” Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why had I believed that promise?

  “Oh, baby.” I couldn’t see through the tears, but I felt the arms that came around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. “I let him die too easy.” There was cold steel in Wills’s voice.

  “Yeah,” Vincent agreed. “You should have left it to me.”

  “What?” I brushed the tears away with the heels of my hands and sniffed.

  “Where do we go from here?” But Wills wasn’t talking to me. He did take out a handkerchief, and he gently wiped my cheeks and eyes. “Blow, baby.”

  “Nowhere now, but on Monday…. He was so anxious to see I got this.” Vincent’s voice was colder than Wills’s, and deadly. “This is the second time he’s interfered with my department. It’s going to be the last.”

  “He’s senior….”

  “Are you doubting my abilities, Matheson?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good.” He went to his desk and opened the bottle of Dewar’s. “You look like you could use a drink, Theo. Matheson?” He poured about four fingers of the whiskey into the glass, glanced at me and added a couple more, then handed it to me.

  “No, thank you, sir,” Wills said. “I’ll be driving us home.”

  He was coming home with me? But was it to stay or just to pack his things and go? I had to ask, “You’re not mad at me, Wills?”

  “What for?” He took back his handkerchief and tucked it into his pocket.

  “That video….” My hand shook so badly I nearly dropped the glass, and he closed his hand around mine and helped bring it to my lips.

  “Not your fault, babe.”

  The alcohol burned going down, and I coughed a little, but once it hit my stomach, warmth began to spread through my body. Another three or four gulps and I finished it. I started to feel a little weird, and, carefully I put the glass down on the desk.

  “What did you mean, ‘you let him die too easy’?”

  Wills sighed, but before he could answer, Vincent asked, “Why’d you come here, Theo?”

  “I was going to fight for him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I thought you were going to tell Wills he had to break up with me.” I swayed back and forth, and Wills pushed me back down onto the chair.

  “Wh
y would I do that?”

  “Said you din’t… didn’t need your boy in a state like he was in ’cause he was worried about me.”

  “Ah. When I talked to you yesterday.” Vince blew out a breath and shook his head. “Civilians. That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “Well, how was I s’posed to know that?” He gave me a look, and I blinked a couple of times and shook my head. Since when had he grown another pair of eyes? “Wha’ did ya mean, Vince?”

  “Are you drunk, Theo?”

  “No.” I blinked again. “I don’t think so.”

  “I think he is, sir. He hasn’t had anything to eat since last evening.”

  “Yes, I did. I went down on you, don’t you remember?” A little voice in the back of my mind told me I was talking too much, but in the warm haze of alcohol it was very faint and easy to ignore. “And when you come, I always swallow,” I concluded triumphantly.

  Wills turned red. “Uh….”

  “No explanations, Matheson. Take him home, sober him up, and then tell him what it is you do for a living and why, when you’re working, you can’t afford to have anything on your mind but the job.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Not leavin’ me, Wills?” My lips suddenly felt like blocks of wood, and it wasn’t easy to enunciate.

  “No, babe. I’ll never leave you.”

  “Glad. Kill me if y’ did. Gettin’ married.” I planted a wet kiss on his cheek, then squinted at Vince. “You come.”

  “I’m not about to tell you it wouldn’t be legal.”

  “Don’t care. Gonna get married.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Matheson, get him out of here.”

  “Yes, sir. Come on, Theo.”

  “Carry me?” I looped my arms around his neck, hopped up, and he caught me. I rested my head against his shoulder and batted my lashes at him. “My hero.”

  “I think you’d better walk, babe.”

  “Have to? Like it where I am.”

  “Yeah, you have to. I can’t carry you down seven flights of stairs.”

  “Okay.” I wobbled a bit after he set me on my feet.

  “Take the elevator.” Vince had rolled down his sleeves and was putting on his suit jacket.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have ’nother drink, Vince? One f’ the road?”

  “I don’t think so. Go on home. Matheson?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “See to it that I get an invitation.”

  “Yes, sir.” He sounded happy, and he slid an arm around my waist and urged me toward the door.

  “Vince’s my frien’,” I mumbled. “He should come.”

  “Sure. Let’s go, babe.”

  Two security guards sat at the desk across from the elevators. “Need some help, Mr. Matheson?”

  “No thanks, Young. I’ve got him.”

  “Yep, you’ve got me,” I said as we got in the elevator and it started down.

  “I do, don’t I?” I felt his lips in my hair. “Did you come in the Corvair, Theo?”

  “Huh?” I had to give that a little thought and then announced, “No. Never had sex in the Corvair. Had sex in the Dodge, but not the Corvair.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Took the Corvair.” My lover choked on his laughter. “Like when you laugh.” I nuzzled his throat.

  “I like when you laugh too, Theo.” The elevator stopped. “Okay, we’re on the first floor. I don’t want you tripping over the plate as we get out. Big step.”

  “Need some help, Mr. Matheson?”

  “Why’s everyone askin’ ’f you need help?”

  “I can’t imagine. No, we’re fine, Sanford. I’m driving Mr. Bascopolis home. See to it that his car doesn’t get towed? It’s a yellow Corvair. Where’s it parked, Theo?”

  “Hell ’n’ gone,” I said absently, suddenly fascinated by the bulge under his arm. I reached into his jacket to touch it. “Why you wearin’ a gun, babe?”

  “I’ll explain when we get home, okay?” He gave Sanford my car’s plate number. “I’ll come pick it up sometime this weekend.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Was he laughin’?” I tried to turn as Wills urged me toward the door. “Are you laughin’?”

  “Come on, Theo. We have to go home.”

  “Why? Wanna know why he’s laughin’.”

  “He must have thought of something funny. Now let’s go. Miss Su needs to get fed.”

  “Oh. Okay. Want me t’ drive?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “’S right. No one drives the Dodge but you.”

  “Right.” Wills got me into the passenger seat and buckled me up.

  “Wait a min’te.” I grabbed his tie and tugged on it. “A’ready fed Miss Su.”

  “We’ll find something else to do.” He freed his tie and cupped my cheek. “Watch your hands. You don’t want to get them caught in the door.”

  “Nope.” I folded my hands on my lap, and after he straightened and shut the door, I put my head back against the headrest and was out like a light.

  THE NEXT thing I knew, something hard was pressing into my gut. I opened my eyes, looked down toward the floor and Wills’s legs, and realized that somehow I was upside down. He had his palm was on my ass, holding me steady.

  “Wha….” The ground looped the loop, and I quickly closed my eyes.

  “Don’t wiggle around. You’ll make me drop you.” Wills was a little out of breath by the time he reached our apartment. He fumbled for the key, let us in, and got us to the bedroom, where he eased me down onto the bed. “No, you don’t!” he said, when I would have tipped over. “Stay put.”

  I heard the water run in the bathroom, and then he was back.

  “Okay, I’ve got a couple of Tylenol for you. Big ‘ah.’”

  I opened wide and swallowed the tablets once they were in my mouth.

  “Now drink this.” He held the glass to my mouth, and I swallowed obediently. “No, finish the whole thing. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

  After the last swallow, he took the glass away, and I collapsed back on the bed. Vaguely, I felt his hands on me, unbuttoning my shirt, wrestling me one way and another to get it off, then undoing my pants.

  “Gonna fuck me?” I mumbled.

  “Later, babe.”

  “Want you to fuck me now.” I wrapped my fists in his shirt. I should have been ashamed of the pouty tone in my voice, but I was too aggrieved that he wouldn’t give me what I wanted when I wanted it.

  “Okay. Just give me time to get out of my clothes.”

  “’Kay.” Naked Wills was a good thing. “Hurry.”

  “Sure, Theo. You just lie there and relax. I’ll be in bed with you before you know it.”

  “Good. Want you.” I opened my eyes and looked into his face. “Love you, Wills.”

  “Oh, babe. I—”

  But I fell asleep before I could hear the rest of his words.

  Chapter 21

  SLEEP STARTED to recede. I tried to entice it back and groaned when I couldn’t. Memories of the past few hours returned with a vengeance: the drive to Huntingdon, the videotape, the glass of whiskey. I didn’t bother opening my eyes. I didn’t get drunk often, but when I did… I knew what I was going to face—my head pounding, ready to roll off my shoulders and spin around on the floor, my stomach taking bets as to whether it would stay put or spew in an eruption that would rival Vesuvius, and this time, my ass aching, having been fucked thoroughly and without a condom for the first time in thirteen years. That was the one that pissed me off the most—that I’d been out cold and unable to enjoy it.

  A soft kiss brushed my forehead. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  I peeled open an eyelid. “You ask me what’s wrong? Fine fiancé you are! What the fuck do you think is wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Another kiss, this one on the hinge of my jaw.

  “And don’t kiss me. I must have the world’s worst case of morning breath.”

  “
Love means never complaining about things like that.”

  “Asshole.”

  He gave a snort of laughter.

  “Not funny,” I groused.

  “No, I guess not. Now tell me what’s got your shorts in a twist.”

  “My head hurts, my stomach’s upset, my ass hurts….”

  “Are you sure?”

  “’Course I’m….” I paused and stopped to take stock of my aches and pains. My head…. No, not the slightest ache. My stomach… steady as the rock of Gibraltar. My ass…. Not a twinge there either. “Huh?”

  “Don’t you remember? I gave you a couple of Tylenol when we got home and made you drink a glass of water. Dad always said that would help with a hangover.”

  “Yeah, I remember that, but what about my ass?”

  “What about your ass, Theo? Did you really think I’d have you for the first time while you were unconscious? That’s too much like rape for my taste. I’d never do that to you.”

  “Then last night… we didn’t?”

  “No. But once you’re feeling better”—he pinched my chin—“we are gonna have such a good time!”

  I nuzzled against him. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “That’s my job.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I love you, Theo.”

  “I love you too. And what about your job?”

  He sighed and let me go. “Here. You’d better have some coffee.” He held his cup to my lips, and I took a few sips. Then I pushed it away.

  “It’s that bad? Okay, what do you do? Are you an ambulance chaser? A quack? A used-car salesman? If you tell me you’re a politician, we’re breaking up!” He looked amused and shook his head for each one. “Okay, how about a centerfold for Playgirl?” He choked on the coffee he was drinking. “Well, I think you’d make a damn fine centerfold.” I looked at him thoughtfully. “Would you consider posing?”

  He mopped the coffee off his mouth and chin. “Only for you, babe.”

  But that reminded me of the video we’d watched, and I turned my face away.

  “Theo, what’s wrong?”

  “How can you love me after what I did?”

  “Put a hole in the wall and run away, you mean?”

  I shook my head, unable to meet his eyes. “You saw that video.” What Franky had done to me on tape, what I’d let him do to me…. My stomach churned, and I wanted to throw up the few sips of coffee I’d had.