Enemies and Playmates Page 2
“Like how to beat on women?” Stephen said.
Alex’s fist caught Stephen square in the jaw. Blood oozed from Stephen’s lip. “Stop it!” Lauren shouted. She stood on the top stair, glaring at her father. “Leave him alone.”
Alex noticed her for the first time. He glared for a long moment before saying, “Stay out of this.”
Lauren met her father’s icy blue stare without flinching. “Leave him alone,” she repeated.
Alex breathed a heavy irritated sigh. He gave Stephen one last shove. “Remember what I said or you’ll be history to this family.” Then he strode past Lauren without a second glance.
Lauren stepped closer to her brother. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Stephen snapped. “I didn’t need you to rescue me.”
“Sorry,” Lauren snapped back. “Next time I’ll let dad beat you senseless.” She strode straight to her room, closing the door behind her.
2
Lauren awoke to the sound of insistent ringing. She grabbed her cell phone, too groggy to bother checking the caller ID display, and mumbled a greeting.
“Lauren?”
The voice had her instantly alert. “Yes.”
“It’s Jesse. From last night. Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“Yes I did. I’m sorry.”
Lauren glanced at her clock. 10:15. She rarely slept so late. “It’s okay.”
“Carrie gave me your number,” Jesse said. “I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all.” Lauren sat up, tried to get herself together. First she acts like a fool by running out on him. Now she’s barely coherent. What a way to make an impression.
“I was hoping we could get together later,” Jesse said. “For dinner maybe?”
“Ummm…”
“If you busy, I understand.”
“No, I’m not busy tonight.” Lauren couldn’t believe those words had slipped from her mouth. She clenched the covers in her free hand, pulling them up around her chin. She would have liked to pull them over her head and pretend this wasn’t happening.
“So is that a yes?” Jesse asked.
“Yes,” she heard herself say. “Dinner tonight sounds great.”
“Cool. Seven okay?”
“Perfect.”
Lauren gave Jesse her address, all the while thinking how insane this was. She couldn’t go out with this man. She was too attracted to him. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust herself.
Thankfully Jesse wasn’t one for long phone conversations. She hung up, torn between childish giddiness and a full blown anxiety attack.
“Leave me alone!”
Lauren’s mother’s voice broke through her thoughts and her walls. Lauren slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe. Then she cracked open her door and peeked out.
“Please don’t,” Kara sobbed.
Lauren stepped into the hall. Her stomach knotted. Hearing her mother’s pleas should be just another typical part of her life here at home. But it wasn’t something she’d ever get used to.
She took another step toward her parents’ bedroom. The sound of a stinging slap froze her. Kara’s cries were muffled but the beating was not. Lauren remained in the middle of the hallway. She wanted to help. She wanted nothing more. But calling the cops would be a farce. Her father had too many connections. Too many people who owed him favors. The only outcome would be that her mother would get a worse beating afterward.
She’d tried before, when she was younger, to break up the fighting. That also made things much worse for her mother. And so her mother had asked her not to get involved. They all pretended it wasn’t happening. As if they were a happy family.
The door across the hall eased open. Stephen stepped out, looked at Lauren, then at their parents’ door. Neither said a word. Soon the sound of skin being slapped eased off. Kara’s muffled cries continued. Stephen glanced at Lauren once more, then stepped back into his room and closed the door. Lauren rubbed the knot in her stomach as she headed downstairs.
Her thoughts were lost, jumping from her mother’s cries to her upcoming date with Jesse. Her emotions swirled in a tangled mess. She wandered through the large, gleaming kitchen in a fog.
“I’ll have scrambled eggs,” Alex said.
His voice jarred her. She pushed the filter into the coffeemaker, then turned toward her father. He stood there, salt and pepper hair neatly combed, his face clean shaven. His deep blue silk suit was without a wrinkle. Every piece of him, down to the silk handkerchief in his suit jacket that matched his tie, was the model of perfection. He radiated success.
Lauren turned away. “I’m not cooking.”
“Excuse me?” Alex said.
“I said I’m not cooking.” Lauren poured water into the coffeemaker. “You can make them yourself.”
“I’m certain I must have misunderstood you.”
Stephen shuffled into the room. He plopped onto a chair at the table. “You making breakfast, sis?”
“No.” Lauren met her father’s glare. How could he stand there looking so respectable after just beating his wife?
Alex smiled. A hollow, contemptuous smile. He said, “I suppose I will be forced to disturb your mother then. She does make delicious eggs.”
“No,” Lauren said quickly. “Leave her alone.” Her defiance instantly deflated. “I’ll make your eggs.”
“Good. I’d like bacon as well.” Alex pulled a chair out and sat, careful not to wrinkle his suit. He glanced at his son. “Stephen, get me the paper from the front walk, will you?”
Stephen breathed a heavy sigh, though he did not argue. He left the room, returning minutes later with the newspaper. He tossed it on the table, then walked out without a word.
Lauren watched the bacon sizzling in the pan. She wanted to ask her father what he knew about Jesse. All those things a daughter should be able to ask her father. Absurd to even consider it.
What kind of work did Jesse do for him? Sure, law firms used private investigators all the time. But was the work legitimate? Or was Jesse simply another pawn for her father?
She’d long since stopped being naïve enough to believe that her father upheld the law. He twisted it to his advantage. He lied, cheated, and did whatever necessary to win. Was Jesse helping him with that?
The phone rang. Lauren poured the eggs into the pan. Her father didn’t make a move, so she bit back a snide remark and grabbed the receiver.
“Good morning, Lauren. This is Suzanne. Is your father in?”
“Hold on please.” Lauren handed the phone to her father. “It’s your secretary.”
Alex grasped the phone with a look or irritation. “Yes Suzanne?” After a pause, he said, “I realize that. I’m running behind this morning.” Another pause, then, “Tell Simmons to wait. He works for me, remember? I’ll be there in less than an hour.”
Lauren placed his breakfast in front of him as he clicked the phone off. She said, “You still have your secretary working on Saturdays?”
“Work doesn’t cease simply because it’s a weekend.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Then why question that which you already presume to know?”
Lauren sighed. She couldn’t say what she was thinking, so she said nothing. She went up to her room, leaving her father to eat alone.
Three minutes past six. He’d be there in less than an hour. Clad in cream-colored panties and a matching bra, Lauren stood in front of her closet trying to keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. Her cell phone rang. For a moment she stood there holding her white jeans, staring at the intrusion. Then she picked it up and flipped it open.
“Did he call yet?” Carrie asked.
“Yes. And thanks a lot.”
“You’re welcome a lot.”
Lauren laughed. “Some friend you are.”
“Didn’t you want him to call?” Carrie said. “The guy is great to look at. And he’s actually got a great personality, too!”
“Yeah…”
“He begged me for your number. Not that he couldn’t have gotten it himself anyway. You know, he’s a smart guy, he could probably get a phone number without my help.”
“Did you stay long?” Lauren asked. Not that she really cared. Or so she told herself.
“Till closing,” Carrie said. “But he only stayed about a half hour after you left.” Carrie chuckled and added, “Just long enough to get your number.”
“Oh.” Lauren wasn’t sure why that made her feel better. “I’m surprised Gina didn’t convince him to stay.”
“She tried. He wasn’t biting.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, he actually thwarted Gina’s sexual charms,” Carrie said. “So when are you seeing him?”
“Tonight.”
“Good for you! Are you nervous?”
“Very.”
“Thought so,” Carrie said. “Though I don’t know why. You had the guy practically panting over you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would. You should’ve heard the third degree I got last night. He thought you left to get away from him.”
“Why?” Lauren asked. “What’d he say?”
“Oh, he thought he might’ve been too pushy or something.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you’re crazy sometimes.”
“Gee thanks.”
“I meant it in a nice way,” Carrie said. “How did things go with Stephen? Everything okay last night?”
“Yeah. Worked out fine.”
“Good.”
“I’ve got to finish getting ready,” Lauren said. “Jesse will be here soon.”
“Call me in the morning. I want details.”
As Lauren flipped her phone shut, she glanced at the clock. 6:17. She tugged on her jeans, suddenly worried that he’d show up early and she wouldn’t be ready. Telling herself that she had no more time to rummage through her clothing in search of the perfect shirt, if in fact one existed, she grabbed a violet sweater and pulled it over her head.
Standing in front of her mirror, she brushed her auburn hair for the fifth time. It didn’t look any different when she’d finished. Maybe she needed more makeup. More likely, she needed a miracle.
“This is it,” she said to her reflection.
Lauren grabbed her purse and went down to the living room. She found her mother sitting on the couch, sipping coffee from a large mug. She hesitated, wanting to offer words of comfort, to let her mother know she’d wanted to help that morning. But she said nothing because that was how it was in her family. They’d all been conditioned to pretend it wasn’t happening.
Kara looked up. A wide smile quickly transformed her. “You look great,” she said. “Where are you off to?”
“I’ve got a date.”
“Oh? With whom?”
If it weren’t for the slightest puffiness below her mother’s left eye, Lauren never would have noticed the bruise at all. Her mother did an amazing job concealing bruises with make-up. But, of course, her mother was an expert by now.
“A guy I met last night,” Lauren said.
“What’s he like.”
“He seems nice. Tall. Sexy.”
Kara smiled. “That certainly helps.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lauren sat beside her mother. “I’m nervous.”
“I can tell.”
Lauren fiddled with the ruby ring her mother had given her on her sixteenth birthday, at the party her father had not shown up for. “You’ll be okay tonight?” she asked.
Kara gave her a small smile. “I’ll be fine. You go out and have a good time.”
“I’ll sure try.”
“You’re smarter than I was, you know.”
Lauren didn’t have to ask what her mother meant by that. Not all relationships had to be violent. They danced around the subject now and then, though her mother never actually came out and talked about it.
The doorbell rang. Lauren’s knees were weak as she made her way to the front entrance. She stood in the foyer a moment, inhaled deeply, then pulled the door open.
“You look amazing,” Jesse said. He held a single long-stemmed red rose. “For you.”
Lauren reached for it, hoping the flush she felt rising to her cheeks blended with her makeup. “Thanks. Come on in.”
“Jesse, this is my mom, Kara.” Lauren motioned into the living room. “I’m going to put this in a vase. I’ll be right back.”
Lauren lingered in the kitchen an extra minute, listening to her mother and Jesse make small talk. Then she took another deep breath and went back out. “Ready?” she asked.
Jesse nodded. “Sure am.”
Jesse parked on the top floor of the five-story parking garage. He and Lauren took the elevator down, then strolled along the street, past the historical buildings scattered throughout Boston’s North End. Lauren was surprised to find herself wishing that Jesse would hold her hand.
“Carrie told me the three of you have been friends forever,” Jesse was saying.
Lauren forced herself to concentrate on his words. His voice was deep and hypnotic. “We met in kindergarten.”
“Have you spoken to her today?”
“Briefly.”
“Did she mention that she threatened me?”
“Carrie did?” Lauren asked, genuinely surprised.
“Yup. She said if she gave me your number, I’d better be the best damn date you ever had.”
Lauren laughed. “Sounds like something Carrie would say.”
“So I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.”
Lauren wanted to tell him that he couldn’t be further from the truth. If the date had ended at that moment, it would already exceed any previous dates she’d had. How star struck did that sound? She looked up at him, met his eyes, and smiled. Good thing he couldn’t read her mind.
They stepped inside the small Italian restaurant. Lauren had never been there but she knew its reputation well. Everyone had heard of the place. Inside, it looked like a chunk of Italy had been dropped on the streets of Boston. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce permeated the air.
The maitre d’, complete with Italian accent, sat them at a back booth. Jesse promptly ordered a bottle of Le Macchiole Paleo Rosso. He did it with a confident ease that said he was familiar with ordering good wine and speaking Italian. But there was nothing in his tone to imply that it mattered to him in the least.
“I love Italian food,” Lauren said. As she spoke the words, she thought how dumb she sounded. Like a teenager on a first date.
“Yeah, me too.”
Lauren met Jesse’s gaze and warmth spread all the way to her toes. The waiter, who introduced himself as Antonio, brought their wine. He poured a sample, then waited while Jesse tasted it. With Jesse’s okay, he filled their glasses and left each of them an embossed menu with a leather cover.
Lauren immediately opened her menu, grateful for the distraction. She and Jesse discussed their choices, finding they had many of the same favorite foods. And many of the least favorites. When the waiter returned, they made it easy for him by ordering an appetizer to split and duplicate dinners, right down to the same salad dressing.
Lauren tried to study Jesse without being obvious. His dark wavy hair was slightly unruly. He was freshly shaven, though a permanent hint of a shadow remained. And he had the most intense eyes she had ever seen. Dark, mysterious, as if a world of secrets lay hidden behind them.
Jesse met her eyes. His smile was disarming. Lauren searched for something to say that wouldn’t come out sounding lame. She decided work was a safe topic. “So what kinds of things do you investigate?” she asked.
“Just about anything,” Jesse replied. “Missing persons, insurance fraud… whatever comes my way.”
“You do that for my father?”
“No. Well, sometimes. Occasionally he needs information on or for clients. I don’t work for him often. I’m self-employed, so I go where
the work is.” Jesse sipped his wine. Still holding Lauren’s gaze, he said, “What about you? Are you planning on becoming a lawyer too?”
“No. I’m sticking with journalism. That’s my major.”
Jesse questioned Lauren about her choice as if he was truly interested. She told him she was in her last year at Harvard. She suddenly thought that sounded utterly stuffy but Jesse didn’t seem fazed one way or the other. She’d been working at the paper since she graduated high school. One of these days she hoped to actually write something the paper would print.
“You want to stay with Boston News?” Jesse asked.
“Yeah, hopefully they’ll give me some actual writing assignments once I’ve graduated.”
“I’m looking forward to reading your stuff,” Jesse said.
The waiter arrived with their meals. As they ate, Lauren grew more curious about the man across from her. She said, “Did you always want to be a private investigator?”
“No, when I was a kid I had big plans.” A hint of playfulness crept into Jesse’s eyes. “I was going to be the next Superman. But my sisters got sick of me stealing their tights and I could never figure the damn things out anyway.”
Lauren laughed. “Too bad. I bet you would have looked good in them.”
Jesse grinned. “I gave up my Superman dream and got my degree in criminal law. I became a cop but quit after six months.”
“Why?”
“I hated it. Too much bureaucracy. I don’t conform well.”
Lauren’s smile widened. Jesse certainly didn’t seem anything like her father. “You like what you do now?” she asked.
“Very much. Most of the time, at least.”
“I guess we all have those days when we’d rather be doing something else.”
“Was your dad disappointed?”
Lauren’s brows furrowed. “About what?”
“You not going to law school,” Jesse said. “He must’ve wanted you to be a partner.”
“No.” Lauren pushed her food around with her fork. “My father doesn’t believe women should be lawyers. We’re too emotional.” Her father also liked to say that women were too weak. But Lauren left that part out.