{"id":4332,"date":"2014-08-23T20:55:53","date_gmt":"2014-08-24T01:55:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/?page_id=4332"},"modified":"2026-03-31T21:33:10","modified_gmt":"2026-04-01T02:33:10","slug":"blackjack","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/thebooks\/blackjack\/","title":{"rendered":"BLACK JACK"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"eddsection\">\n<div class=\"eddfloat_dl\"><\/p>\n<div class=\"eddcover_dl\">\n<figure class=\"b10mwx\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/b10mediaworx.com\/covers\/blackjack\/blackjack-200x300.jpg\"><figcaption class=\"b10mwx\">Tales of Dunham #7<br \/>\u00a92016 Moriah Jovan<br \/>225,000 words (636 pages)<\/figcaption><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<article>\n<\/p>\n<p class=\"eddtitle_dl\">Book 7 in the Dunham universe<\/p>\n<div class=\"linksbuyblock\" role=\"group\" aria-label=\"Buy Black Jack\">\n<p class=\"linksedd\">Buy direct:<\/p>\n\t<form id=\"edd_purchase_19706\" class=\"edd_download_purchase_form edd_purchase_19706\" method=\"post\">\n\n\t\t\t<div class=\"edd_price_options edd_multi_mode\" >\n\t\t<ul>\n\t\t\t<li id=\"edd_price_option_19706_epub\"><label for=\"edd_price_option_19706_1\"><input type=\"checkbox\"  checked='checked' name=\"edd_options[price_id][]\" id=\"edd_price_option_19706_1\" class=\"edd_price_option_19706\" value=\"1\" data-price=\"7.99\"\/>&nbsp;<span class=\"edd_price_option_name\">EPUB<\/span><span class=\"edd_price_option_sep\">&nbsp;&ndash;&nbsp;<\/span><span class=\"edd_price_option_price\">&#36;7.99<\/span><\/label><\/li><li id=\"edd_price_option_19706_pdf\"><label for=\"edd_price_option_19706_2\"><input type=\"checkbox\"  name=\"edd_options[price_id][]\" id=\"edd_price_option_19706_2\" class=\"edd_price_option_19706\" value=\"2\" data-price=\"7.99\"\/>&nbsp;<span class=\"edd_price_option_name\">PDF<\/span><span class=\"edd_price_option_sep\">&nbsp;&ndash;&nbsp;<\/span><span class=\"edd_price_option_price\">&#36;7.99<\/span><\/label><\/li>\t\t<\/ul>\n\t<\/div><!--end .edd_price_options-->\n\t\n\t\t<div class=\"edd_purchase_submit_wrapper\">\n\t\t\t<button class=\"edd-add-to-cart button has-edd-button-background-color has-edd-button-text-color edd-submit\" data-nonce=\"9ce34fb151\" data-timestamp=\"1775357098\" data-token=\"031bcef76e75620ccf7a4dfa333d00e74db367c5a7c977ec2434c24f748b6051\" data-action=\"edd_add_to_cart\" data-download-id=\"19706\"  data-variable-price=\"yes\" data-price-mode=multi data-price=\"0.00\" ><span class=\"edd-add-to-cart-label\">Add to Cart<\/span> <span class=\"edd-loading\" aria-label=\"Loading\"><\/span><\/button><input type=\"submit\" class=\"edd-add-to-cart edd-no-js button has-edd-button-background-color has-edd-button-text-color edd-submit\" name=\"edd_purchase_download\" value=\"Add to Cart\" data-action=\"edd_add_to_cart\" data-download-id=\"19706\"  data-variable-price=\"yes\" data-price-mode=multi \/><a href=\"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/checkout\/\" class=\"edd_go_to_checkout button has-edd-button-background-color has-edd-button-text-color edd-submit\" style=\"display:none;\">Checkout<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span class=\"edd-cart-ajax-alert\" aria-live=\"assertive\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<span class=\"edd-cart-added-alert\" style=\"display: none;\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<svg class=\"edd-icon edd-icon-check\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" width=\"28\" height=\"28\" viewBox=\"0 0 28 28\" aria-hidden=\"true\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<path d=\"M26.11 8.844c0 .39-.157.78-.44 1.062L12.234 23.344c-.28.28-.672.438-1.062.438s-.78-.156-1.06-.438l-7.782-7.78c-.28-.282-.438-.673-.438-1.063s.156-.78.438-1.06l2.125-2.126c.28-.28.672-.438 1.062-.438s.78.156 1.062.438l4.594 4.61L21.42 5.656c.282-.28.673-.438 1.063-.438s.78.155 1.062.437l2.125 2.125c.28.28.438.672.438 1.062z\"\/>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/svg>\n\t\t\t\t\t\tAdded to cart\t\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div><!--end .edd_purchase_submit_wrapper-->\n\n\t\t<input type=\"hidden\" name=\"download_id\" value=\"19706\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<input type=\"hidden\" name=\"edd_action\" class=\"edd_action_input\" value=\"add_to_cart\">\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t<\/form><!--end #edd_purchase_19706-->\n\t\n<p class=\"linksedd\">&nbsp;<br \/>\n\t\t<span class=\"small85\">Amazon<\/span> <a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/dp\/B01IC1I19K\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Kindle<\/a> \u2022 <a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/dp\/0986127159\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">paperback<\/a><br \/>\n\t\t<span class=\"small85\">Barnes &#038; Noble<\/span> <a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"https:\/\/www.barnesandnoble.com\/w\/black-jack-moriah-jovan\/1124591471?ean=2940156838073\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Nook<\/a> \u2022 <span class=\"small85\">paperback<\/span><br \/>\n\t\t<a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"http:\/\/books.apple.com\/us\/book\/id1147056482\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Apple iBooks<\/a><br \/>\n\t\t<a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"https:\/\/play.google.com\/store\/books\/details?id=2ga5DwAAQBAJ\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Google Play Books<\/a><br \/>\n\t\t<a class=\"blackjack\" href=\"https:\/\/www.kobo.com\/us\/en\/ebook\/black-jack-tales-of-dunham-7\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noreferrer noopener\">Kobo eBooks<\/a>\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"top30\">\n<p class=\"eddsum_dl\">Neither Lydia Charbonneau nor Jack Blackwood thinks it\u2019s a good idea to get involved, but one handshake and one very short conversation have them making plans for a weekend romp. She\u2019s a concert pianist and music professor from the University of Kansas, in New York to audition for a position at Juilliard, running from grief she can\u2019t shake. He\u2019s an uncouth bond trader and accidental CEO who likes meaningless sex (lots of it), Big Macs, and <span class=\"cat\"><em>Dumb and Dumber<\/em><\/span>. They have nothing in common\u2014until one of Jack\u2019s ex-lovers nearly kills them both.<\/p>\n<p class=\"eddsum_dl\">From a New York City subway platform to an underground emergency room in Spanish Harlem and back again, they quickly learn they\u2019re actually reflections of each other, so alike it should never work. Along the way, they pick up two feral children, an entirely different social circle, and the devastating knowledge that while they don\u2019t know how they could ever live with each other, they will <span class=\"catb\"><em>never<\/em><\/span> be happy without each other.<\/p>\n<div class=\"navblock\">\n<p class=\"leftnavblock\"><a class=\"arrowsmall\" href=\"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/thebooks\/weweregods\/\">\u2190 Book 6<\/a><\/p>\n<p class=\"rightnavblock\"><a class=\"arrowbig\" href=\"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/thebooks\/lionsshare\/\">Book 8  \u2192<\/a><br \/>When your widowed father-in-law is your bestie,<br \/>and your late husband had a deep dark secret<br \/>you\u2019re taking to the grave \u2026<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p class=\"wingding\">\u203b<\/p>\n<p class=\"blackjackprologuehead\">PROLOGUE<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">1: STRIKE PRICE<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptdate\">March, 1996<br \/>\nBlackwood Securities<br \/>\nWall Street<br \/>\nNew York City, New York<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">JACK BLACKWOOD stood at the window of his massive office high over the East River and tied his tie in the reflection. Assistants and interns ran this way and that, in and out of his office. As the glass doors separating the executive suit from the vast trading floor swung open and closed, the volume of men yelling and phones ringing rose and fell.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Goddammit!<\/em>\u201d Jack roared at the three interns who blew in and accosted him at the same time. \u201cFigure the goddamn thing out for yourselves!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, look,\u201d said Jack\u2019s best (relatively speaking) friend, intercepting the brand new, painfully confused traders. He snatched the slips out of their hands and shuffled through them, studied them, sorted them out like playing cards, divvied them up, and handed them back with detailed instructions.<\/p>\n<p>The three newbies bolted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAren\u2019t you precious,\u201d Jack muttered, adjusting his collar.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian Taight cast him an irritated glance. \u201cCan\u2019t you <em>try<\/em> to be less of a dick?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey have fucking MBAs!\u201d Jack protested. \u201cFrom Harvard or some such shit. They should be able to do this job before orientation.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey don\u2019t teach this in B-school, asshole.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey don\u2019t teach it in the math department, either,\u201d he retorted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo they teach you how to keep from losing eleven million of <em>my<\/em> dollars in fifteen minutes? No. Which is why I had to drop everything at home and get on a plane. To babysit you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That hit the mark and Jack snarled at Sebastian in the glass.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSooo,\u201d Sebastian drawled smugly, \u201cwhereya headed?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack turned and shrugged his suit coat on. \u201cRamona\u2019s meeting me for lunch and I don\u2019t want to be late.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMind if I tag along? I have to be at Juilliard at three for an audition and I want to eat first.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He gestured toward the door and followed Sebastian out of the office. \u201cWhat kind of an audition?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy cousin\u2019s old roommate is auditioning for a teaching position and she needs some moral support. You\u2019re welcome to come with me. She\u2019s a helluva pianist. Once she gets going, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStage fright?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s painful. Too bad, too, because she plays Rachmaninoff like she\u2019s channeling the bastard.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That meant nothing to Jack, so he brushed it off, stopping at his executive assistants\u2019 desk for messages, various traders\u2019 desks to check their stats, order, demand, or kick ass, before hitting the elevator, then Wall Street.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere\u2019d you pick Ramona up?\u201d Sebastian asked as they slid into Jack\u2019s waiting car.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStewardess,\u201d Jack grunted, then gave his driver an uptown address. \u201cLast month. She works the route to Hotlanta.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t even know why I asked. You\u2019re not tired of her yet?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He patted his suit coat pocket. \u201cGot the ice right here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian chuckled. \u201cI can\u2019t keep up with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJealous.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian snorted. \u201cHardly. You use women like paper towels to wipe your dick off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you\u2019re trying to insult me, you\u2019re gonna have to do better than that. I meant to break it off at lunch, but I\u2019m not going to do it in front of you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, you shoulda said something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo rush. Did I hear you say you were going to Europe?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJune. Have to take care of a couple of clients, check up on a cousin, drop in on some old friends.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood, \u2019cause I need you to scout some locations for an office in London. You have contacts there, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYep. Not a problem.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With that, they discussed details of Sebastian\u2019s impending trip until they reached the restaurant. It wasn\u2019t the first time Sebastian had met a woman Jack was dating, and it wasn\u2019t the first time Sebastian had staunchly refused to be polite to one. Of course, Sebastian was rarely polite to anyone in business-social or formal settings anyway. He only respected women he was doing business with and he only fucked women he was painting.<\/p>\n<p>Ramona was neither.<\/p>\n<p>What Ramona <em>was<\/em>, other than Jack\u2019s soon-to-be-ex girlfriend, was immediately hot for Sebastian.<\/p>\n<p>This did not surprise Jack.<\/p>\n<p>This did not amuse Sebastian.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, I <em>love<\/em> the theater!\u201d Ramona exclaimed when Jack mentioned Sebastian\u2019s afternoon plans. Sebastian rolled his eyes so hard they rattled in his head. \u201cJack, I want to go. Take me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Arguing with her about it would take all fucking afternoon, so he said, \u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian was immediately pissed off, but he kept his <em>oh hell no<\/em> to himself when Jack kicked his leg under the table.<\/p>\n<p>Ramona kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way to Lincoln Center and all the way from the car to the concert hall where the audition was being held. There were a few people milling around, talking in hushed and not-so-hushed voices. There were some already sitting in seats scattered throughout the hall with pens, papers, and coffee.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSebastian!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, Lyds,\u201d Sebastian called and led Jack and Ramona down to the front.<\/p>\n<p>Sadly, the minute Jack clapped eyes on the little concert pianist with stage fright, he caught wood, which stymied him enough that it subsided gracefully. But he was a professional and he thrived on pressure. Some people knew that if Jack were calm, cool, and collected, it meant he was feeling a lot of pressure.<\/p>\n<p>Ramona didn\u2019t know this about him.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian did, and gave him the side-eye when Jack coolly greeted the woman and looked into her plain old gray eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHello,\u201d she murmured when they shook hands, her grip perfectly firm, looking straight at him as if she were trying to tell him something.<\/p>\n<p>Jack could sense Sebastian watching this meeting as if he were waiting for something.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack Blackwood. Pleased to meet you, Ms&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCharbonneau,\u201d she said with a quiet calm that seemed to come from her core, a serenity Jack was a complete stranger to, a tranquility that was as fake as a Milli Vanilli performance. Jack was <em>immediately<\/em> fascinated. \u201cLydia Charbonneau.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat,\u201d exclaimed Ramona, \u201cis a gorgeous outfit. You look like a Spanish bullfighter, only a skirt and not pants.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled blankly. \u201cThank you. This is one of my performance outfits.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPurple and gold to perform in, when most people choose plain black! And all that bling! That\u2019s a bold choice! But your sleeve is split.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s supposed to be like that to allow full range of motion.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And the women were suddenly talking clothes.<\/p>\n<p>Actually, Ramona was doing all the talking. Ms Charbonneau looked politely bored. Her eyebrow went up when Ramona asked her how much the outfit cost. Sebastian coughed into his fist.<\/p>\n<p>Jack stepped back and studied Ms Charbonneau carefully, as if admiring her gold-encrusted purple jacket. He didn\u2019t give a shit about the jacket, but it let him pretend his attention was <em>not<\/em> on the tight purple skirt that emphasized her hips and <em>very<\/em> smooth ass he was suddenly dying to touch.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou had an interesting reaction to Lydia,\u201d Sebastian murmured when the three of them headed toward the middle of the auditorium, where she had requested they sit.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have no idea what you\u2019re talking about,\u201d Jack muttered out of the side of his mouth, watching her talk to the jurors, smile serenely, look into their eyes, and speak calmly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHer eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was not what Jack expected Sebastian to have noticed. \u201cWhat about \u2019em?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMost men kind of fall in.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was the dumbest thing Jack had ever heard. \u201cWhat\u2019s that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook at the guy she\u2019s talking to right now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHuh,\u201d Jack muttered after a few seconds\u2019 observation. \u201cHe looks hypnotized.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah. That. She has that effect on most men, including me, which is why I never look her in the eye. You\u2019re the only man I\u2019ve ever met who\u2019s looked her in the eye and been able to act normally.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked at Sebastian, confused. \u201cWhat is she, like Love Potion Number Nine or something?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, that\u2019s not what I mean. Men don\u2019t fall in love with her. They just do whatever she wants. If she lived in Salem way back in the day, she\u2019d have been burned at the stake, it\u2019s that creepy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t like her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI like her. A lot. She\u2019s fun. Smart. I just don\u2019t look her in the eye.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d Ramona pouted. \u201cI thought you said we were going to the theater.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d Sebastian drawled, his disdain cranked to eleven, \u201che said we were going to go to Juilliard to hear an audition.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh. For what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA <em>job<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoing <em>what?<\/em>\u201d she demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou <em>do<\/em> see the piano on the stage, don\u2019t you? What do you <em>think<\/em> it\u2019s for?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have to audition for that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is <em>Juilliard<\/em>, Ramona,\u201d Sebastian gritted out. \u201cIt is a <em>performing arts<\/em> school. One <em>performs<\/em> here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t have to talk to me like I\u2019m stupid, Sebastian.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack pursed his lips to keep from laughing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou asked her how much her outfit cost. That was stupid. Or gauche, which is even worse.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d she growled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIgnore him,\u201d Jack muttered. \u201cArtistic temperament.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack!\u201d Sebastian snapped.<\/p>\n<p>Oops. That was top secret.<\/p>\n<p>She sat back with a huff and sniped, \u201cHe doesn\u2019t <em>look<\/em> like an artist.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack would\u2019ve flung a few barbs in both directions but he didn\u2019t have a chance because the lights went down and all three of them settled back into their chairs. The woman came out on stage, stood at the edge, folded her hands in front of her and said,<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am Lydia Charbonneau, BME, MM, DMA, tenured professor of music theory, composition, and advanced piano studies at the University of Kansas, auditioning for the position of music theory, composition, and advanced piano studies instructor. I will be playing Rachmaninoff, Concerto Number Three, third movement; Beethoven, Sonata Number Fourteen Opus Twenty-seven, third movement; Liszt, Rondo Fantastique.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit,\u201d Sebastian whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe last one. Very few people have played it or can play it. Not only that, but nobody really likes it. It isn\u2019t that pleasant a listening experience.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo she\u2019s playing it because&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s considered unplayable. The other two are flashy, but people at her level <em>should<\/em> be able to play those. She\u2019s comfortable with those pieces so she\u2019s going for easy up front. She\u2019s playing the Liszt last after she\u2019s warmed up, to show her virtuosity because her stage fright\u2019s going to kill her chances if she doesn\u2019t have something <em>really<\/em> impressive at the back end.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat makes sense to somebody somewhere, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou are an uncultured swine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman sat down at the piano. Took a deep breath. Adjusted her bench. Adjusted it again. Put her hands on the keys. Took them off. Balled them up in her lap. Closed her eyes. Looked like she was praying. Opened her eyes. Put her hands back on the keys and began. Hesitantly. Even Jack could hear she was trying not to hit a wrong note. He heard it often enough with new traders who had to be taught how to ignore their mistakes and move on like they hadn\u2019t screwed up.<\/p>\n<p>After a few minutes of the plunking, she started to warm up, her shoulders loosened, and indeed, the slits in her sleeves did seem to be helpful.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is a really awful color on her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>CRASH<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Jack and Sebastian gaped at Ramona, who had clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, and tried a penitent grimace on the row of jurors down front who turned to glare at the three of them. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Ramona said in a very small voice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat the hell is <em>wrong<\/em> with you?\u201d Sebastian hissed.<\/p>\n<p>Jack glanced up to the stage at the pianist, whose head was bowed, her hands clenched around the edge of the bench, and the toe of one of her stilettos on top of the other. Her whole body was cringing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d Sebastian growled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRamona,\u201d Jack said, fishing his wallet out of his inside coat pocket and giving her his credit card.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re going to stay?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack flicked a glance back up at the musician on stage. He didn\u2019t know anything about music and he knew whatever she was going to play\u2014<em>if<\/em> she played it\u2014would bore him to tears and he <em>really<\/em> didn\u2019t want to be here at all, but now he felt compelled to stay.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeh. See you tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks,\u201d she whispered, then slid out of the row and disappeared into the darkness.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPlease begin again, Dr. Charbonneau.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t want to. Even Jack could see that. Whatever groove she might have been able to find was gone.<\/p>\n<p>It took a while, but finally she put her hands on the keys again. And again she started out painfully hesitant. She hit a few wrong notes, which Jack only knew because Sebastian winced. With every wrong note, she hit another one, then a string of them, and then&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, <em>fuck<\/em>,\u201d Sebastian whispered, bending over at the waist and putting his face in his hands.<\/p>\n<p>The notes abruptly stopped. Jack looked up to see her again in that cringing pose, but her fists were against the wood under the keys. He watched her soberly, silently begging her to pull herself together.<\/p>\n<p>Finally, she put her fingers on the keyboard and\u2014<\/p>\n<p><em>CRASH<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Again.<\/p>\n<p>But this time it was because she was pounding the keyboard with gusto.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s head shot up. \u201cHm. Nice save.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack said nothing, but Sebastian\u2019s approval must mean she was doing it right, although Jack would never be able to tell. Her fingers were going fast and he supposed it was impressive, but he wouldn\u2019t know this from any other professional pianist. Sebastian, on the other hand, was, at this moment, sliding halfway down in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes with a sigh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat the fuck is wrong with you?\u201d Jack whispered finally.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian opened his eyes and glared at him. \u201cUncultured swine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou knew that before you dragged me here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t answer, but closed his eyes again and sank further into his seat.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s gaze flicked back up to the woman on the stage doing whatever had Sebastian in some sort of euphoria. No, she wasn\u2019t Jack\u2019s type. Not even close. He didn\u2019t know from good, bad, or indifferent dress colors, although he did find her white shirt peeking out from her slit sleeve to be distracting. But there was something about her&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>No, he didn\u2019t know what he was listening to nor did he care, but now she was up and down that keyboard, pounding into it one minute, then light as a feather the next, her fingers at turbo speed. Her face was red and in some places, she closed her eyes, pointing her face up into the rafters and swaying like Stevie Wonder.<\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t the music.<\/p>\n<p>It couldn\u2019t be the music.<\/p>\n<p>And it couldn\u2019t be her, that short, plump little dirty-blonde, who was <em>nothing<\/em> like what Jack liked.<\/p>\n<p>It couldn\u2019t be Ramona because she wasn\u2019t here.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t know what it was, but he was hard as a rock and ready to bend Lydia Charbonneau over that fucking piano and play <em>her<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>God, he hoped she got this job, and she would even if he had to find out whose strings to pull and how hard.<\/p>\n<p>And she kept going and going and going&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>She was pouring more passion into that piano than his last four girlfriends put together had shown in bed. Or ever. And she looked like she was on the edge of orgasm.<\/p>\n<p>Or about to break out in sobs, because her cheeks were wet and that wasn\u2019t sweat.<\/p>\n<p>The concert went on for a while. The music itself was mind-numbingly boring and he might have left, except the way she was responding to the music she was playing was surreal. That woman wasn\u2019t a soothing spa experience as she\u2019d presented herself. She was a fucking carnival, which made him wonder what she\u2019d be like in bed.<\/p>\n<p>Naked.<\/p>\n<p>Writhing.<\/p>\n<p>Hot, sweaty, red-faced, and sobbing from pure sensation when she came, arching her back, panting his name, her arms up over her head like he\u2019d tied them there.<\/p>\n<p>Shit, did <em>everyone<\/em> think of music in sexual terms?<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian was still half lying in his chair as if he were basking in the sun, which meant Jack didn\u2019t have to hide his reaction to her. With barely a blip, she went right into the next thing, which, apparently, Sebastian did not approve of because he opened his eyes and sat up a little.<\/p>\n<p>Jack didn\u2019t bother to ask what she\u2019d done or why it was bad.<\/p>\n<p>She did stop when she was done with that one. Then started on the next\u2014and hopefully last, because this one was <em>really<\/em> boring. It was fast. That was about all Jack could discern. And there was no passion with this one. Or at least, that was the way Jack heard it, as compared to the first two things. She was up and down the keyboard, yes, but it was bland. Like tofu. It was just&nbsp;\u2026 there.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI hate this piece,\u201d Sebastian whispered. \u201cBoring as hell.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Oh, good. That gave Jack permission to hate it, too, and he did because it just <em>killed<\/em> the hard-on he had for her. He scowled. That was probably a good thing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDr. Charbonneau.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>CRASH<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Again.<\/p>\n<p>There was silence in the hall.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes?\u201d came her small voice.<\/p>\n<p>All that <em>noise<\/em> from the fingers of such a small woman with such a small voice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you. We\u2019ve heard enough.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s groan was almost silent. Jack would have groaned, too, but Sebastian had done it for him.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly, Jack felt really, really sorry for her.<\/p>\n<p>She rose, bowed slightly, said, \u201cThank you,\u201d and walked off the stage with impressive dignity.<\/p>\n<p>The jurors stood up, and Jack recognized one of them. \u201cBe right back,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n<p>He slid down the row and sauntered down the aisle toward his target, a man on Juilliard\u2019s board who owed Jack\u2019s father a favor. A <em>big<\/em> one.<\/p>\n<p><em>Sorry, Dad.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, Bobby,\u201d Jack said with just the right amount of cheerful bluster, offering his hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, hey, Fourth. What brings you by?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDr. Charbonneau\u2019s audition. You know, moral support.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bobby stilled a little. \u201cYou know her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack shook his head. \u201cNeh. Met her today. Friend of a friend situation. You know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bobby looked up and over Jack\u2019s shoulder. Jack looked there too. Sebastian and Lydia stood together, their backs to the stage, his arm wrapped around her and hugging her to him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that Taight?\u201d Bobby asked low.<\/p>\n<p>Jack turned back to him and said, \u201cYep. She\u2019s his cousin. Or cousin\u2019s friend. Or college roommate. Something. <em>Very<\/em> protective of her. You know how that goes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bobby pursed his lips and nodded slightly. \u201cYeah, sure do. Nice to see you, Fourth. Say hi to Third for me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSure will. Don\u2019t be a stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">2: COEFFICIENT OF VARIATION<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">\u201cOH, HEY, JACK,\u201d Sebastian said the next day as he, Jack\u2019s COO Melinda, and her venture capitalist boyfriend were sifting through paperwork on the conference table. \u201cLydia got a call-back audition for tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack, pacing the room while studying a report, said, \u201cYeh?\u201d with slightly interested nonchalance.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d Sebastian answered. \u201cI noticed Bob Haleh was on the jury. Did you say hi for me too?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAbsolutely.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cExcellent. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked up at him. \u201cDoes that thing she does with her eyes work on women?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian shrugged. \u201cMaybe? Not sure. You can ask her yourself,\u201d he muttered, turning away with a gesture toward the hallway outside the conference room. \u201cShe\u2019s meeting me for lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack thought he was about as jaded about women\u2019s fashion as one could get, but his jaw dropped on the floor when she stepped out of the elevator lobby, looked left then right, and started toward them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood God,\u201d Jack whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that her?\u201d Melinda asked. \u201cThe Munchkin in the biker leathers?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looked over his shoulder. \u201cAw, shit,\u201d he muttered. \u201cIf she thinks I\u2019m riding bitch, she\u2019s got another think coming.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s interesting,\u201d Melinda\u2019s boyfriend drawled.<\/p>\n<p>Jack gulped. The only time he saw women dressed like <em>that<\/em> was during some city-wide biker rally to \u201craise awareness\u201d for something or on a film set or on a catwalk with a designer who\u2019d decided to be \u201cedgy\u201d that season.<\/p>\n<p>He did <em>not<\/em> expect to see one striding confidently through a floor packed with traders, a (completely fake) serene smile on her face, her dirty-blonde curls bouncing, leaving men gaping in her wake. She was a <em>piano teacher<\/em>, for God\u2019s sake! They weren\u2019t <em>allowed<\/em> to wear leathers!<\/p>\n<p>Jack couldn\u2019t say a word when she finally opened the conference room door and strutted in.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI hope you found somewhere to put that thing where nobody\u2019ll steal it,\u201d Sebastian grumbled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no,\u201d she returned calmly. \u201cIt\u2019s just out front, although I had to tell the security desk I\u2019m with you. My eyes only got me fifteen minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re slipping,\u201d Sebastian said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I\u2019m lazy. Hello again, Jack,\u201d she said politely, turning those supposed-to-be-magical eyes on him. They were no different from yesterday.<\/p>\n<p>Honestly, Jack didn\u2019t need hypnotic eyes to make him stare at her dumbfounded. She returned his look with that same blank expression, as if she were patiently waiting for him to speak but not at all curious about what he had to say. Finally he gestured toward her helmet. \u201cYou&nbsp;\u2026 rode?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, yes,\u201d she said amiably enough.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2014 All the way from\u2014 Where are you from?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled as if soothing a frightened child. \u201cKansas.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOn a <em>motorcycle<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, yes,\u201d she replied calmly. \u201cIt\u2019s a very common thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you even have a car?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes,\u201d she murmured without a shred of feeling.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s getting on my nerves,\u201d Jack snapped.<\/p>\n<p>Her eyes widened a little, again as if she were trying to communicate something. \u201cWhat, precisely, is getting on your nerves?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour condescension. It\u2019s fucking annoying, and I will not be condescended to.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s head snapped toward him and Jack was gratified that Ms Charbonneau stepped back, surprised but not alarmed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI apologize,\u201d she said hesitantly. \u201cMost men are uncomfortable with me at first, so I talk that way to put them at ease.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy are they uncomfortable?\u201d Jack demanded. \u201cSebastian said you do something with your eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She blinked rapidly and her mouth fell open. \u201cUh&nbsp;\u2026 I\u2014 I don\u2019t know what it is. They\u2019ve always done that and&nbsp;\u2026 I&nbsp;\u2026 don\u2019t know,\u201d she finished weakly. \u201cA doctor said it was an idiopathic physiological anomaly, which meant they didn\u2019t know and didn\u2019t care because we didn\u2019t have enough money to run any tests.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack grunted. \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t see that?\u201d Sebastian demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I don\u2019t see it,\u201d Jack sniped over his shoulder. \u201cShe\u2019s got gray eyes. There\u2019s nothing special about them, much less mystical.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m right here,\u201d she said dryly.<\/p>\n<p>Yes, indeed, <em>she<\/em> was now here.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBucho will demonstrate,\u201d Sebastian said and turned to Melinda\u2019s boyfriend. \u201cThis is Lydia. Lydia, Danielo Bustamante, also known as Bucho.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack watched Bucho do the <em>same fucking thing<\/em> the guy at the audition did yesterday. \u201cMadre de dios, that\u2019s creepy,\u201d the man breathed as he shook her hand.<\/p>\n<p>She chuckled politely and Jack wondered if he was the only person in this room who could tell she was irritated.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes that work on women?\u201d Jack asked again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOccasionally. I can\u2019t detect a pattern with women, though.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLemme see,\u201d Melinda said as she skirted the table and came around to shake her hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAaannd Melinda Newman, Chief Operations Officer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was when Jack could tell Lydia had turned the corner into pissed off.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, you know what?\u201d Jack barked at his three cohorts. \u201cShe\u2019s not a fucking attraction in a fucking freak show at a fucking circus. Back off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia cast him a look of surprise mixed with a good bit of relief and gratitude, but the other three gave him various looks of confusion and annoyance.<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked at the little piano teacher in the tight leathers and muttered, \u201cI\u2019m sorry about yesterday. For what it\u2019s worth, I liked the purple.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gave him a soft, warm smile that nearly knocked him on his ass. He was so shocked, he <em>did<\/em> stare at her blankly for a second or two. \u201cThank you,\u201d she murmured, her voice as sincere and warm as her smile. \u201cI appreciate it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re welcome,\u201d he said gruffly, then gestured to her leathers. \u201cWe can take you to lunch downstairs. Won\u2019t have to ride anywhere and my black magic\u2019d security guard won\u2019t lose his job.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>We?<\/em>\u201d Sebastian drawled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d Jack returned snidely. \u201cI gotta eat, too, yanno.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSure,\u201d she said brightly. \u201cI wasn\u2019t going to make Sebastian ride bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe leathers will get you the side-eye.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMeh,\u201d Sebastian said. \u201cOne look in her eyes, and they\u2019ll welcome her with leis and hula dancers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack snorted. \u201cYeah, okay. Whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s not joking,\u201d Bucho said.<\/p>\n<p>But Jack slid her a glance and felt almost <em>privileged<\/em> that he was the only person in this room she\u2019d turned that warm, bright smile on. He winked at her as if they were sharing a secret because fuck him if he\u2019d ever met anyone who was <em>that<\/em> happy to meet him. Or at all.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, let\u2019s go,\u201d he said and headed off toward the conference room door ahead of her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOffer her your arm, dickhead,\u201d Sebastian said with weary impatience.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s got leathers on. She should be offering me <em>her<\/em> arm.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia burst out laughing and Jack grinned, watching her laugh, shaking his head slightly in amazement that this woman was the same one who\u2019d fallen apart on stage yesterday. She cast a glance at Sebastian, then approached Jack and cheekily offered her arm. He snorted. \u201cNo,\u201d he said dryly, splaying his hand out over her leather-covered back and gently directing her through the door.<\/p>\n<p>He kept his hand on her back and pressed a little closer as they walked down the hallway toward the elevator.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow did you know I was mad?\u201d she asked him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m a salesman. I can read people and it was written all over your face.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, thank you. I like to try being polite before I pull down a fully stocked back bar.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cLittle bit of a drama queen in you, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMore than a little. Sebastian doesn\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNeither does anybody else, I bet,\u201d he said throatily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cScore a few for you,\u201d she cooed. \u201cI could wear a floor-length headdress of yellow feathers and nobody would believe it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWould you? Wear yellow feathers in your hair?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWith a dress cut down to <em>there<\/em>,\u201d she shot back.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right, <em>Lola<\/em>,\u201d he drawled, which earned him another delighted grin. They rounded the corner and he hit the down button. \u201cYou got a Tony stashed away somewhere?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She coughed into her fist, but she couldn\u2019t hide her laugh. \u201cUm. Sort of. Not&nbsp;\u2026 exactly. Kind of.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Fuck. \u201cHusband, boyfriend, girlfriend, ex, stalker, or unrequited crush?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNone of the above. In-joke.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, good. Wanna lemme in?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked at him, trying not to laugh again, and he raised an eyebrow. \u201cNot today,\u201d she said, then did laugh at Jack\u2019s <em>you coward<\/em> look. \u201cToo much backstory for lunch with a new friend.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was all Jack needed to know. \u201cYeah, okay, we\u2019ll get back to that friends thing later. I heard you got a call-back tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI did,\u201d she purred. \u201cI don\u2019t know who owed whom what favors, but thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLeast I could do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes,\u201d she agreed with a smirk. \u201cIt was.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s up with that, though?\u201d They stepped into the elevator. \u201cYou\u2019re a concert pianist who can\u2019t concert piano?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled wryly. \u201cIt\u2019s just one of my quirks, but it hasn\u2019t been a professional problem because I don\u2019t teach performance. I sent tapes, so I don\u2019t know why they had to have a live audition for non-performing teaching positions.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo how are you going to do tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTerribly,\u201d she said matter-of-factly, which Jack found sad. \u201cI really do appreciate the second chance, but it won\u2019t make any difference. They interrupted me in the middle of a piece that should\u2019ve gotten me the job just from my tapes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo what are you going to do after tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m here for a week or so. Maybe two, depending. I like New York, so I\u2019ll stay and enjoy myself. Do all the touristy artsy stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBy yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no. With Sebastian. He\u2019s all about artsy stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s eyebrow rose. \u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 You? Sebastian?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She waved a hand. \u201cNo. We have similar interests and we enjoy each other\u2019s company, but there\u2019s no chemistry there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Good, because there was a whole elevator full of chemistry between Jack and this little amusement park disguised as a piano teacher.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSebastian said you teach math classes at NYU, so you\u2019re part of academia, too?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack nodded. Normally he\u2019d leave it at that because most people had no idea what he was talking about. \u201cQuantitative and mathematical finance,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t have a PhD\u2014don\u2019t want one, either\u2014so I\u2019m just a lowly instructor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou get paid in ego strokes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cYeah. Pretty much. So tell me more about this eye thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cI\u2019ve been told it\u2019s like the aurora borealis. I don\u2019t know how it works, though. The doctor thought it was from a head injury I had when I was little.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan you turn it off and on?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSort of,\u201d she said, but stopped because the elevator had gotten to the executive restaurant floor, and he guided her off. \u201cIf a man looks at me long enough,\u201d she continued as they entered the restaurant\u2019s lobby, \u201cI can intensify the effect by not blinking. It keeps me out of a lot of trouble,\u201d she said then stopped and turned, looking at him as if to will him to fall into her eyes the way other men apparently did. They looked like regular eyes. No kaleidoscope. No hypnotic swirls. Just eyes.<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head, totally mystified. \u201cI wasn\u2019t invited to the party, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She blinked then, rapidly, several times, then laughed. \u201cDries them out, though. I go through Visine like crazy. I need some now, actually.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s what you get for trying to voodoo me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her smile was broad, her ordinary gray eyes sparkling in the light from overhead like anybody\u2019s did when they were happy.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPoint me to the restroom?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll escort you. They\u2019ll never let you in in that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd they\u2019ll let me in with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy name\u2019s on the building, sweetheart. I can do what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">3: WHO SHOT WHO?<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">IT HAD BEEN A long time since a man had intrigued Lydia enough to keep company with him outside of work. Jack\u2019s only real flaw was that he looked uncomfortably like the Tony of her childhood. He was East Indian, dark, about five-nine (which was still a lot taller than she was), solid, and carried his custom-tailored suit, tie, Rolex, and cufflinks very well. His stride was long and quick, he was thrumming with energy, he was charismatically coarse and crass, his accent was a strange mix of Manhattan bark and Ivy League hauteur with a hint of British, and he could look in her eyes without falling in.<\/p>\n<p>He was even <em>irritated<\/em> that people insisted they saw something when <em>he<\/em> couldn\u2019t, so clearly everyone around him was on hallucinogenic drugs. And the way he\u2019d noticed she didn\u2019t like being an exhibit and stepped in&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>No, he couldn\u2019t see the thing her eyes did. He could see <em>her<\/em>. The <em>real<\/em> her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me about your math classes,\u201d she said once they were seated in a quiet, out-of-the-way circle booth, with the waitstaff falling all over itself for him. She shifted and her leather jacket creaked quite loudly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, lemme help you with that,\u201d he said, reaching for her collar and peeling it off her with no grace whatsoever, catching her in it like a fish in a net, making her <em>ow<\/em> when he twisted her shoulder, making her laugh, especially when he knocked over a water glass with his elbow. \u201cAh, shit,\u201d he muttered, looking down at his lap. \u201cFucker makes as much noise as that piano you were thunking all over yesterday,\u201d he said absently as he freed her arms from it and tossed it on the other end of the booth seat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d pretend to be embarrassed or insulted,\u201d she teased while he patted his wet lap with his napkin, \u201cbut that\u2019s my usual performance when a <em>discerning<\/em> audience is involved.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOuch,\u201d he said good-naturedly as he threw the napkin to the other side of the table. \u201cYou sure you don\u2019t want to wait for Sebastian?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI believe you told Sebastian to get lost. Or did I mishear?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He grinned. \u201cYou did not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She tucked a fingertip in her mouth and gave him a coy look that made him start laughing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeh, hey,\u201d Jack said to the waiter who brought their bread. \u201cGo tell security that the bike out front is to stay put and be guarded like it\u2019s the baby Jesus. If they have to bring it in and park it in the lobby, that\u2019s what they better fucking do\u2014with white gloves on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, Mr. Blackwood.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia laughed and he leaned against her with a mischievous smile, the faint scent of his heady but understated cologne feeling like a soft kiss. \u201cSo,\u201d he said as he reached for the bread and broke off a small piece, offering it to her. She opened her mouth a little and he popped it in, his lids lowered. \u201cIf I tell you about my classes, are you going to start dozing? Because usually, people only ask me that if they\u2019ve got a bad case of insomnia they want me to cure.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed again, looking into his warm brown eyes because she <em>could<\/em>. \u201cDo you know anything about music?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. I am an uncultured swine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, as a theorist, I teach an odd form of math. You work in base-10, no?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was watching her intently. Listening to her. \u201cMost of the time. Sometimes I teach discrete math, which is binary.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay. And time is measured in base-60.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor actually playing music, we have labels. But depending on which style of music I\u2019m working with, it could be expressed as base-8, base-5, etc. Theory is the math, in a manner of speaking. So, I may be able to understand what you do without needing a shot of espresso.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His smile was beautiful, white and straight, flashing in his dark face. Yes, he <em>did<\/em> look like Tony, but Tony had been a stud in his time. It wasn\u2019t Jack\u2019s fault she had overdosed on Tony stories before she was ten, and it wasn\u2019t her fault that Jack was drop-dead gorgeous.<\/p>\n<p>He started to launch into an explanation, but it was interrupted by this waiter and that waiter and having to decide what to eat, but Lydia didn\u2019t bother to look at the menu.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFilet mignon. Salad, bleu cheese.\u201d <em>Toothbrush. Lifesavers. Condoms.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cA woman who knows what she wants,\u201d Jack purred.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia cocked an eyebrow at him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTo eat,\u201d he clarified.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI always know what I want,\u201d she said throatily.<\/p>\n<p>He cast her a grin then ordered what she had. \u201cWine?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I\u2019m driving. Coke\u2019s fine. You?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSprite. I don\u2019t drink much. Messes with my head. Can\u2019t afford it in the daytime and keeps me up at night. Also, no caffeine after two p.m. Word to the wise: The chocolate souffl\u00e9 here is brilliant.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCount me in, then.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The waiter got all that squared away, bowed a little, took their menus and vanished.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMath later,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s less interesting than a piano teacher roadtripping on a Hog or dog or scooter or whatever it is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled, pleased he was steering the conversation in her direction first. \u201cHog,\u201d she confirmed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have tenure at KU, you said? At your audition, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat made you want to change? Other than Kansas being boring as hell.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made her laugh, and tried for another piece of bread. He snatched it from her, broke off a piece, and held it to her lips. \u201cOpen wide.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s what she said,\u201d Lydia cooed, making him grin. She ate the piece, then said, \u201cThis past year\u2019s been a real drag. I needed a pick-me-up and change of scenery.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA new job is a little more than a vacation change of scenery.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She grimaced a little. \u201cIt was an impulse thing. As much of one as it could be, I mean, when you put in for a sabbatical on deadline.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s been going on all year?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Aaannnnd now she was again mired in the tar pit she\u2019d come to New York to shake off. \u201cI don\u2019t want to talk about it,\u201d she muttered, turning to her salad.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, hey, I didn\u2019t mean to dredge anything up,\u201d he said around a bite. \u201cForget I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her mouth twitched not because he\u2019d apologized, but because he\u2019d done it with a mouth full of food. \u201cThanks. For the record, it\u2019s not because Kansas is boring.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He snorted. \u201cAnd the Hog?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked up at the ceiling. \u201cYou know,\u201d she mused, trying to remember, \u201cthat was an impulse thing, too, although it was on my list.\u201d She looked back at him. \u201cDo you have a list of things you want to do before you die?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked a little taken aback. \u201cNo. Who does that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made her laugh, but their main course arrived and she said nothing until the waiters had gone.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t want to walk the Great Wall of China or star in a movie or something?\u201d she asked and popped a small piece of steak in her mouth.<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head. \u201cNope. My grand ambition was to be a multimillionaire so I could do anything I wanted and I did that, but then I realized there wasn\u2019t anything else I wanted to do. I like my life.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His <em>lack<\/em> of ennui was utterly charming. \u201cHow old are you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThirty-six. You?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThirty-four. And you\u2019re not bored?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNope. My life is boring by most people\u2019s standards, but I am not bored.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you travel at all?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly when forced.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo yacht, no Greek island, no private jet?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have no curiosity about the world.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His lids shuttered a little. \u201cDon\u2019t try to shame me with my lack of culture,\u201d he purred. \u201cI can\u2019t be shamed. I <em>am<\/em> curious about your world, though.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich world?\u201d she asked coyly.<\/p>\n<p>He took a drink of Sprite then said, \u201cI wouldn\u2019t mind learning how to play your piano.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She\u2019d met few men who were brilliant and <em>so<\/em> charmingly vulgar that they made her want to play these games. And she\u2019d <em>never<\/em> met a man she wanted to have sex with as much as this one.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI&nbsp;\u2026 might be able to arrange a lesson,\u201d she returned softly, watching him look at her mouth, then back up into her eyes. She felt a little breathless, her heart picking up a little.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cToday\u2019s Wednesday,\u201d he said huskily. \u201cCan\u2019t book anything until Friday night. I can think of a couple of songs to play to make you feel better before you go home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>No, he wasn\u2019t the type to fall in love, but as long as she <em>remembered<\/em> that this would only be a weekend fling, everything would be just fine.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI got the Hog,\u201d she whispered, suddenly feeling completely free to let loose, \u201cto have something big and powerful between my legs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He groaned and half collapsed against the back of the booth and feigned a couple of sobs. \u201cGod, I wish I could take you home right now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed and relaxed, licking her bottom lip before taking a sip of her Coke. Wishing she\u2019d asked for Lifesavers. And condoms. \u201cI know I can count on the market to keep you on a leash for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA fucking piano teacher,\u201d he grumbled good-naturedly, as he sat up and cut another piece of his own steak. \u201cFucking a piano teacher. <em>That<\/em> just went on my very short list of the one thing I want to do before I die.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot just any piano teacher, I hope.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He slid her a look. \u201cTease.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t flirt just to flirt,\u201d she said airily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right, Miz Culture,\u201d he said with faux imperiousness, \u201cwhere have <em>you<\/em> been?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She waved a hand. \u201cOh, all over Europe. Asia. Australia.\u201d She paused. \u201cI\u2019m thinking about going to India this weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He barked a laugh. \u201cIndia certainly does want you to come this weekend. Many times.\u201d She grinned. \u201cYes, I am a walking fucking stereotype of a rich Indian on Wall Street.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou look Latino from a distance.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked shocked. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s subtle. I couldn\u2019t describe it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHuh. But nope. My dad\u2019s pasty-white British, but at least he doesn\u2019t glow in the dark like you do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd you have no interest in your heritage at all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head. \u201cI\u2019m an American, sweetheart. A very simple one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>An <em>adorable<\/em> one. \u201cAnd I am a walking stereotype of a corn-fed Kansas farm girl.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ve got a cob\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She pressed her finger against his mouth. \u201cToo easy. I love vulgar and clever. I hate boring and stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m not stupid, but I bore everybody eventually,\u201d he said wryly. \u201cIf I haven\u2019t insulted or pissed them off first.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm, okay, then. Bore me with your math classes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He cast her a look, but it was more serious. \u201cYou really want to know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia nodded. \u201cYes. I like listening to different disciplines.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He opened his mouth to say the obvious, then snapped it shut again with a chuckle.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia smirked. \u201cYou learn quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right, but don\u2019t say I didn\u2019t warn you.\u201d He launched into a description of the classes he taught. She interrupted with questions here and there, which seemed to surprise him. He answered those, then went on. She asked him what teaching method he used for that concept, which seemed to really shock him. His answer was even more enthusiastic and he was gaining speed, gushing over abstract concepts she only barely grasped. Every time she asked him a question, he got more exuberant.<\/p>\n<p>Then he got to quantitative finance. She couldn\u2019t follow enough to ask questions, but she listened: to his baritone voice, his passion, his pure joy. She watched: his boyish expression of delight, his hands gesturing grandly, his fingers tracing figures in the air. He wasn\u2019t speaking of himself as the topic related to him, wasn\u2019t boasting, wasn\u2019t trying to impress her at all. He was in love with his topic.<\/p>\n<p>He stopped suddenly, looked at her blankly for several seconds, then pronounced, \u201cI just figured out a problem I\u2019ve been working on since grad school.\u201d With that, he snapped his fingers at a waiter and demanded his order pad. Once he had it and the waiter scurried off, he turned it around to face her, scooted closer to her and began to sketch out a complex formula.<\/p>\n<p>With his left hand. Lydia\u2019s smile widened. He continued speaking as he wrote, explaining himself as if she were a student. He\u2019d forgotten she was there, but it didn\u2019t bother her at all because she was fascinated by him. His vibrant voice was filled with the excitement of having solved a problem. His strong hand was drawing fluid Greek symbols and numbers as fast as he spoke, the heel of his hand and snowy white cuff turning blue as he dragged them through the ink. His energy was coursing through his shoulders and arms, pouring out onto the thin paper and wicking into beautiful patterns. He tore the first sheet off and began another, only to be interrupted when the waiters came to clear the table of their empty dishes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t have anybody to talk math with, do you?\u201d she asked when he ripped the third sheet off and began a fourth.<\/p>\n<p>He cast her a look of surprise. \u201cUm, no. How\u2019d you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re not bragging,\u201d she said matter-of-factly. \u201cYou love it and you\u2019re just excited to be able talk about it to someone who\u2019ll listen. My discipline\u2019s niche, too, so I get it. Not a whole lot of people you can talk shop with.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, it\u2019s not like I can talk about this stuff with my girlfriends.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s delight in being in this man\u2019s company vanished.<\/p>\n<p>Her anticipation of the souffl\u00e9 fled.<\/p>\n<p>She wasn\u2019t sure she could keep down what she\u2019d already eaten.<\/p>\n<p>How in the world could she have forgotten?<\/p>\n<p>Somewhere in between barking at her to quit condescending to him and telling Sebastian to get lost, she\u2019d forgotten&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>She was leaving in a week to go home. She\u2019d known he had a girlfriend already, one who\u2019d completely wrecked what little edge she had at yesterday\u2019s audition. He\u2019d even arranged for Lydia to have another audition tomorrow because he knew what a huge gaffe his girlfriend had made.<\/p>\n<p>Why did it hit her so hard? She\u2019d <em>known<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>It was the plural.<\/p>\n<p>With his looks and money, and as fast as he had propositioned Lydia, she should have deduced he could and did get any woman he wanted. He was likely juggling more than one.<\/p>\n<p>Girlfriend<em>s<\/em>. <em>Plural<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>She took a sip of her Coke. Another.<\/p>\n<p>He went on without noticing she was now not participating in any capacity. There was no way she could endure the rest of this meal.<\/p>\n<p>She looked at her watch and gasped. \u201cOh, my God!\u201d she squeaked, interrupting a long explanation of the inflation-proof bond which, under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed because, unlike the math, she <em>did<\/em> understand how the markets worked. \u201cI am so sorry. I\u2019m going to have to go. I completely forgot about a meeting I had with a long-distance colleague.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His mouth dropped open. His eyebrows rose in shock. \u201cUh&nbsp;\u2026 I\u2014 Okay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She slid from the booth, stepped over to the other corner and grabbed her jacket. Without looking at him, she struggled into it, and said, \u201cThank you so much. I enjoyed talking shop with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She cast a smile in his general direction and walked out.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">4: SCARAMOUCHE<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">\u201cHEY, ARE YOU planning to go to Lydia\u2019s audition today?\u201d Sebastian asked Jack the next morning.<\/p>\n<p>His jaw ground. There was no way in <em>hell<\/em> he was going to go to that audition, not after the way she\u2019d run out on him at lunch. \u201cNo,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s your problem?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack slammed his hand down on his desk and bellowed the whole thing at Sebastian, who listened stonily without interrupting. Good man, that Sebastian. Then he was finished and Sebastian was still staring at him stonily. \u201cWhat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou forgot something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet\u2019s see. How did Lydia phrase it? \u2018It\u2019s not like I can talk about this stuff with my girlfriends.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack gnashed his teeth. \u201cThat was a <em>compliment<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA compliment. I see. Referencing your girlfriends\u2014plural\u2014on a date with a woman who thinks you\u2019re interesting <em>and<\/em> has more letters after her name than you <em>and<\/em> who was apparently planning to spend the weekend in bed with you is <em>flattering<\/em>. And oh, that\u2019s after your <em>current<\/em> girlfriend trashed her audition, which was why you had to call in a marker owed to <em>your dad<\/em> to get her another one. Compliment. Yep. I see it. Uh huh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack stared at him, confused. \u201cIt was <em>that<\/em> bad?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian closed his eyes as if pained. \u201cYes, Jack. It was <em>that<\/em> bad. Have you ever heard the phrase \u2018A man who will cheat <em>with<\/em> you will cheat <em>on<\/em> you?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack felt a tingling of dread. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNeither had I. I refrained from telling her you aren\u2019t careful about making sure your girlfriends don\u2019t overlap. You\u2019re welcome.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe knew I had a girlfriend when we started flirting!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s true, and I pointed that out to her. She was so happy to meet a guy who didn\u2019t see her eye thing that she forgot about Ramona. Then you got protective of her with me and Melinda and Bucho. Touchdown with a two-point conversion. But then you reminded her she was just the latest in probably a long line of women you were about to cheat <em>with<\/em>, so she got off your merry-go-round. That was the word she used.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack wrapped his hand over his mouth and chin and whispered, \u201cHoly shit.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know, at some point, your little black books are going to come back and bite you in the ass, and I\u2019m not talking about your dad\u2019s lectures. I wish she\u2019d handed you your head on a platter, but she\u2019s not a drama queen\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Oh, bullshit, she wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014or she suspected you got her another chance at\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack growled low in his chest and turned away. \u201cShe knew as soon as she got the call-back,\u201d he muttered, pissed. At <em>her<\/em>\u2014didn\u2019t she <em>know<\/em> she was different? At Sebastian\u2014for not\u2014for, for, for <em>pointing it out<\/em>. At himself for being <em>that<\/em> rusty with nice women. \u201c<em>She\u2019s different!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s no different from any other nice, intelligent, and sensitive woman, which you wouldn\u2019t know. Your problem is you don\u2019t know how to act around decent women. Frankly, you\u2019re not worthy to be on the same <em>planet<\/em> with her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack stood at the floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall window overlooking East River, one hand propped on his hip and his head down, the other hand rubbing the back of his neck. \u201cFuck,\u201d he whispered. \u201cFuck, fuck, fuck.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It dismayed him that she and her opinion mattered to him. She wasn\u2019t anything he preferred in women. She was short, chubby, wild-haired, leather-clad, fresh-faced, curvy, bold, funny, nice, interested in what he enjoyed and analytically minded enough to follow about a third of it&nbsp;\u2026 Right up to the point he reminded her she wasn\u2019t special.<\/p>\n<p>Except she was.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow the fuck do <em>you<\/em> know about women?\u201d he burst out. \u201cYou\u2019re <em>shit<\/em> with them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian raised an eyebrow. \u201cI am not shit with women under the right conditions, and you have <em>seen<\/em> me work my magic. When I am with a woman, I never fuck up. Furthermore, you pay your women when you\u2019re done with them. I wrap mine up in fantasyland for however many weeks, then send them back out into reality with a healthy self-esteem and a killer attitude.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack snarled at him. It <em>sounded<\/em> arrogant, but every word of that was true. Sebastian was <em>GQ<\/em> black-Irish perfect, but got laid less than Jack did because he was shy and he could only turn on the Svengali under controlled circumstances. But Sebastian <em>knew<\/em> what made women tick, in and out of the board room, in and out of the bedroom and when all the conditions were right, Sebastian turned into something so fucking surreal Jack couldn\u2019t describe it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat else did she tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot much. You were talking about math and then you brought other women into the conversation. Crash and burn.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack almost winced. \u201cHow pissed was she?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot quite sure. She\u2019s hard to read.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bullshit. She was as easy to read as a billboard on Times Square at night.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFine,\u201d Jack grumbled. \u201cWhat time are we leaving?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Which was how he found himself sitting in the shadows at Juilliard <em>again<\/em>, slouched down this time, watching her cross the stage in a red bullfighter outfit this time\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow much <em>does<\/em> that thing cost?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight around seven grand.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u2014her calf muscles cut in high relief from her red stilettos. The flash of her jacket and the stilettos were <em>her<\/em>, just like the leathers, matching the rest of her personality. After the way she\u2019d strutted through his trading floor yesterday and her almost immediate acceptance of his proposition, he was now wondering if her stage fright was specific and-or had a trigger.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis jury,\u201d Jack whispered, leaning into Sebastian while she introduced herself in that irritating monotone that was not her. \u201cCan they play like she does? I mean, are they <em>better<\/em> than she is?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot sure. I don\u2019t think any of them are performers, if that\u2019s what you\u2019re asking. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs she expected to be perfect?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t see why she would be. Lots of legendary performers make mistakes the audience can hear. Horowitz was famous for making mistakes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack had no idea who Horowitz was. \u201cI can\u2019t square her yesterday with her on stage. Yesterday, she <em>wanted<\/em> attention. On stage, she\u2019s\u2014\u201d Jack waved a hand toward her, where she was answering questions in that same monotone. \u201cBut she\u2019s wearing fifteen pounds of gold thread. Flamboyant people at the top of their profession don\u2019t suddenly shut down in front of an audience that\u2019s <em>inferior<\/em> to their skills.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian seemed to be at a loss for words. \u201cShe dresses flamboyantly, yes, but <em>she<\/em> is not flamboyant. She\u2019s too cute. Too quiet. Too Zen. Her Zen smothers her flashy clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>How could everyone else be so fucking <em>blind?<\/em> She wasn\u2019t <em>Zen<\/em>. She was <em>bored<\/em> and permanently riding the edge of irritated.<\/p>\n<p>There was a fucking carnival going on inside that cute little body and bottomless brain. And he knew that because her face couldn\u2019t hide a thing. Her voice was throaty, full of color, and dripping sex. Her laugh was like silk. She was all magic, lights, and sparkles\u2014except for her nondescript gray eyes. And her mind\u2014 She\u2019d acted like she hadn\u2019t had a good mindfuck in forever, which reminded him that he hadn\u2019t had one in a long time, either.<\/p>\n<p>Until yesterday. <em>God<\/em>, that had been fantastic <em>and<\/em> he\u2019d solved that fucking problem, so maybe she<em> did<\/em> have some sort of black magic thing going on. The only thing that would\u2019ve made it better was if she\u2019d made his dick come at the same time she made his brain come.<\/p>\n<p>That fatal moment in their conversation looped in his head like a fly at a picnic that wouldn\u2019t leave him alone. Ramona\u2014hell, any of the women he\u2019d dated for however long they interested him\u2014would\u2019ve ignored it, missed it, faked a laugh at it, or tolerated it so as to keep him in her sphere whether she liked it or not.<\/p>\n<p><em>Why<\/em> did this little piano teacher from Kansas matter so much? She was going home in a week or so, whenever she felt like it, apparently, since she was on sabbatical. Sebastian thought she was too good for Jack. She was shit on a stage and she\u2014<\/p>\n<p>Started playing. Not as badly as she had the day before, certainly. She was a little more relaxed, still hesitant through the first thirty seconds or so, but picked up steam and confidence as she went along. If she hit a wrong note, he wouldn\u2019t know it, so he couldn\u2019t judge that part.<\/p>\n<p>He sat and listened. Bored. He <em>hated<\/em> this stuff, but here he was, hearing her, but not listening. <em>Watching<\/em> her. It was dark everywhere but on stage, her gold embroidery glinting in the spotlight.<\/p>\n<p>Not a drama queen, his ass.<\/p>\n<p>She was gaining speed, gaining confidence, visibly starting to forget the jury. She was building to that point where she\u2019d hit her stride like she had two days before when she\u2019d filled the concert hall with noise, <em>passionate<\/em> noise: her body invested in the keys; her fingers flying and pounding; her feet strategically pressing and stomping on the pedals; her curls bobbing while she fucked that piano and\u2014<\/p>\n<p>He jumped halfway out of his seat when his mobile phone squawked into the darkness.<\/p>\n<p>So did everyone else.<\/p>\n<p><em>CRASH<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Again.<\/p>\n<p>He scrambled for his phone, hearing Sebastian swearing at him, getting it out of his coat pocket, fumbling it, dropping it with a loud clatter. It squawked again before he got it turned off, but it was too late. He looked up to see her hands hit the keyboard again so hard the lid dropped on her knuckles. Her shriek of pain shot through him like a bullet.<\/p>\n<p>She jerked her hands out from under the wood and cradled them to her breast, her head bowed, her body rocking slowly, her back and chest heaving.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian shot out of his seat and ran down the aisle while Jack sat motionless, horrified, watching his closest\u2014only\u2014friend (relatively speaking) vault himself up onto the stage and pull her up gently, turning her, guiding her off the stage, hiding her from the audience of a dozen <em>discerning<\/em> musicians and one uncultured swine.<\/p>\n<p>He dropped his head into his palm.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood job, Fourth,\u201d Bobby Helah called back to him. \u201cAlways count on you to come through in a clutch. Tell your dad hi for me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was going to put that motherfucker in the poorhouse before the month was out.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">5: LAW OF INFERNAL DYNAMICS<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">\u201cI HATE THIS PLACE,\u201d Lydia gritted through her tears as Sebastian ran her hands under cold water. \u201cI hate that man. I hate these people. I hate this <em>city<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian didn\u2019t say anything, his hands gentle and comforting, the cold water soothing. They were in an out-of-the-way women\u2019s restroom and she hoped none of the female jurors would walk in and see more of her humiliation.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFlex,\u201d he murmured. \u201cFist.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She did. Slowly. \u201cNothing\u2019s broken,\u201d she muttered. \u201cIt\u2019d take an elephant to break my fingers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood thing you don\u2019t have to play any time soon,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Why<\/em> is he here?\u201d she growled, but it lost something in the translation when she hiccupped then coughed on it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy fault. I let him come with me in case you\u2019d be willing to listen to him grovel for yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She blinked and looked at Sebastian, but he was blurry in her tears. \u201cGrovel?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, I had to explain that it wasn\u2019t polite to talk about one\u2019s girlfriends to a woman one finds intriguing, funny, nice, hot, and, most importantly, smart.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d she asked cautiously.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe was pissed. Ran the whole thing down. I damn near put his head through the window, but you know, Jack is who he is, and sometimes I forget there\u2019s a reason nobody can stand him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia thought about that for a while as Sebastian continued to gently massage her knuckles under the cold water. Really cold water. It felt sooo good.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm. Did\u2014 Um, did he <em>want<\/em> to grovel?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her brow wrinkled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe truth is, he uses women like paper towels to wipe off his dick. Women like you, nice ones, smart ones, ones you take home to Mom, know that. They can\u2019t stomach him, and they shouldn\u2019t. The only women who will are ones who have their own agenda. It may or may not include marriage but if so, it\u2019s not for love. They\u2019re not stupid. They\u2019re opportunistic, which suits him to a T.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut to be fair, it was over before he met you and he broke up with her Tuesday night. He hadn\u2019t gotten around to giving her the diamond bracelet, which was in his pocket, and she wasn\u2019t going to break it off before she got it. Ramona\u2019s no more cultured than Jack, but she came along because she wanted a shot at <em>me<\/em>. Jack knew that. He didn\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Now she was just confused. \u201cThen why did he bring her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe had a lot on his mind and he didn\u2019t want to argue about it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She swallowed. Hard. \u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He paused. \u201cYesterday, you both made it clear that you didn\u2019t want me at lunch, which was fine. What you have to remember is that with him, what you see is what you get. I honestly don\u2019t know why a woman like you would be attracted to him, but you\u2019re an adult and it\u2019s not my place to get in your way or shove him at you. I\u2019m giving you information anybody would need to make an informed decision.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia sat silent for a while, letting Sebastian tend her knuckles, thinking about that. What <em>did<\/em> she see in Jack? Or was he just the first bit of fresh air she\u2019d had in months?<\/p>\n<p>Years.<\/p>\n<p><em>You\u2019re on the rebound from your grief, Buttercup.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She sighed when her late father\u2019s voice popped up in her head, right on cue.<\/p>\n<p><em>Deal with it directly.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She wasn\u2019t <em>allowed<\/em> to deal with her grief directly. The people forcing her to wallow in it made sure she didn\u2019t have a chance to grieve at all, much less go through the whole process.<\/p>\n<p><em>Fine. But having sex with that dickhead isn\u2019t the way to do it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>So she wanted to have sex with a hot guy who made her laugh. What was wrong with that?<\/p>\n<p><em>I could accept that if you had ever had sex just because you wanted to and not because you were looking for love in all the wrong places.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Once, in an adolescent fit of pique, Lydia had demanded to know where he got off giving her relationship advice when he\u2019d never had a relationship.<\/p>\n<p>The tirade that had followed\u2014<\/p>\n<p><em>I am not going to be led around by the dick by some cunt who puts her ambition over me! Fuck her if she can\u2019t leave hers to be with me! Thinking she can top me! Who the goddamn fuck does she think she is?!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Clearly, Mingo had not wanted to discuss that, so she\u2019d never asked again.<\/p>\n<p><em>Mingo? You mad at me, Buttercup?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She\u2019d been mad at him for the last year.<\/p>\n<p><em>I died ten years ago.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Thirteen. But her grief and anger had surfaced again last year and had been simmering all year long.<\/p>\n<p>There was a small tapping at the door, which startled her. \u201cAh, Lydia, can I come in without getting firebombed? I brought your stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia cleared her head then heaved a sigh. Of what, she didn\u2019t know. Frustration. Anger. Humiliation. Confusion.<\/p>\n<p>Cautious delight.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLydia?\u201d Sebastian asked low. She nodded wearily. \u201cYeah,\u201d he called.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia wouldn\u2019t look at Jack. She couldn\u2019t. Her backpack with her change of clothes and shoes plopped on the floor by her stockinged feet. It <em>almost<\/em> didn\u2019t surprise her when Sebastian stood and made way for darker hands to caress her knuckles under the water.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOw!\u201d she screeched when he pressed too hard, and jerked her hands back, glaring up at him. \u201cWhat the <em>hell<\/em> is wrong with you?\u201d she demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d Sebastian drawled with irritation.<\/p>\n<p>Jack dropped back against the wall, his head thunking back against the old tile. \u201cGod, kill me now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think Lydia\u2019s about to play God.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Jack said wearily, looking up at the ceiling, his hands in his pockets. \u201cFor everything.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia watched him, watched the play of expression on his face. He was embarrassed, which she suspected he didn\u2019t feel often. He was penitent, also something she didn\u2019t think he had much experience with. He was uncertain, as foreign to him as the other two. She slid a glance at Sebastian and tilted her head a little.<\/p>\n<p>There was silence in the room when the door closed softly behind Sebastian. Lydia put her hands back under the water and watched as Jack turned and took her hands softly, cupping one of his hands in the water and pouring it over her knuckles.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat feels good,\u201d Lydia whispered. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He said nothing, gently tucked her hands back into her breastbone, turned the water off, shook his hands out and pulled paper towels from the dispenser. He crumpled them for makeshift bandages, looked at them, then chucked them in the trash. He loosened the knot of his tie and pulled it from around his neck, then took her hands and wrapped her knuckles in the silk. \u201cI only have one tie,\u201d he muttered. \u201cI\u2019m sorry it looks like I\u2019m tying you up for a fun night of bondage. Although I\u2019d like to if you\u2019re into that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia laughed, shocked, because it had come out of his mouth so easily.<\/p>\n<p>He slid a glance at her, his faint smile uncertain. \u201cI\u2019m a dick,\u201d he said wryly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLet me take you to lunch? Sebastian can come this time and keep my mouth under control.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This was a bad idea. He looked like Tony. He acted like Rico. She didn\u2019t want to date a Tony. She didn\u2019t want to date a Rico. She sure as hell didn\u2019t want to date a hybrid. And Sebastian, who apparently knew him better than anybody else did, didn\u2019t want her and Jack in the same airspace.<\/p>\n<p>On the other hand, if all she really wanted was a respite from her troubles, did it matter if Jack was juggling a few girlfriends as long as he was disease-free? He\u2019d popped up like an oasis of fun and color and laughter in the middle of her emotional desert and, okay, so <em>what<\/em> if she needed grief therapy? He couldn\u2019t be <em>worse<\/em> than any of the many therapists she\u2019d gone through.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 okay.\u201d She paused. \u201cCan you, um&nbsp;\u2026 help me with my shoes?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Without a word, he crouched and rummaged through her backpack. When he pulled her Keds out, he stuffed her stilettos in the pack, then carefully put her tennies on, caressing her calves, ankles, and feet. She closed her eyes and sighed, feeling his fingers in the curves of her Achilles tendon, the arch of her foot, gently massaging, working the knots out.<\/p>\n<p>God, just the caring touch of another human, sexually attractive or not, was pure heaven. She didn\u2019t realize how little of it she\u2019d had in years, didn\u2019t realize how much she needed it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you,\u201d she whispered after a while, opening her eyes when he finally tied her shoes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re welcome,\u201d he said gruffly, standing, throwing the pack over his shoulder and helping her keep her balance with her hands in front of her as they were.<\/p>\n<p>The three of them were totally silent as they rode in Jack\u2019s car to a trendy restaurant. None of them were going to force conversation, which was both good and bad. The silence wasn\u2019t pressing. It was the silence of people cooling off, sorting things out in their heads so they could begin to talk and sort it out together.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia was cradling her hands in Jack\u2019s tie. He was beside her, but not touching her. He was looking out the window. Sebastian was on her left, also staring out the window, his right ankle on his left knee.<\/p>\n<p>It was one of the most awkward social situations Lydia had ever been in, yet being <em>in<\/em> it meant that there was value here. Somewhere. They just had to find it. Jack helped her out of the car when they drove up to the curb. She unwrapped her hands and gave him the tie, because he\u2019d need it to get into the restaurant. It was crumpled. Ruined. It looked awful. Her mouth twisted. He shrugged. \u201cMy fault.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Well, yes. It was.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow are your hands?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBetter,\u201d she said, which was true. \u201cCan you ask about Tylenol or something?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He gestured for her to precede him, but didn\u2019t touch her. He could barely look at her, in fact, and <em>that<\/em> hurt, because <em>he<\/em> couldn\u2019t see whatever her eyes did but now he was acting like every other man who couldn\u2019t look in her eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Jack spoke for a party of three, but the ma\u00eetre d\u2019 ignored him, asked Sebastian how many people were in the party, and informed him there was a two-hour wait. Sebastian scowled and threw his thumb at Jack. \u201cHe already told you that, asshole, and he\u2019s the one paying the bill and don\u2019t give me any bullshit about being backed up. It\u2019s the middle of the fucking afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack smirked when the man flushed and finally looked at him, although not in his eyes. Lydia watched this byplay, shocked. This was New York. Jack was expensively dressed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d rather go somewhere else,\u201d Lydia said abruptly. \u201cAn Indian place.\u201d She hated Indian food.<\/p>\n<p>Jack, Sebastian, and the ma\u00eetre d\u2019 all gaped at her. She sneered at the ma\u00eetre d\u2019 slightly. \u201cDirect us to a restaurant with a staff that can hide its racism better than you can. If you can\u2019t look at an expensively dressed man and tell to the penny how much he\u2019s worth and how that affects <em>you<\/em>, you need to be washing dishes in Hell\u2019s Kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can make that happen,\u201d Sebastian drawled.<\/p>\n<p>It was the shortest two-hour wait in history.<\/p>\n<p>The three of them were silent as they were seated less than five minutes later, except when Jack requested Tylenol for Lydia, which was brought post haste. Suddenly, Jack was being fawned over as lavishly as he had been in the executive restaurant at Blackwood Securities.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUh&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d Sebastian ventured finally. \u201cYou noticed that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cClearly,\u201d she muttered angrily, looking down to fix her napkin. She now didn\u2019t know whom or what she was mad at. \u201cThat doesn\u2019t happen at home. At least, not in my milieu.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt was a lot more subtle than it usually is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia didn\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks,\u201d Jack drawled, \u201cbut if it doesn\u2019t affect my bank account, I don\u2019t give a fat rat\u2019s ass.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s not about you,\u201d she said tightly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh. Huh. I don\u2019t know what that means, but just because I\u2019m Indian doesn\u2019t mean I like Indian food.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked up at him and said testily, \u201cI wasn\u2019t making assumptions. I was making a point. You\u2019re a McDonald\u2019s guy. Cheap, fast, and easy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian started laughing, and Jack\u2019s slow, delighted grin made Lydia catch her breath.<\/p>\n<p>Again.<\/p>\n<p>Oh, God.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re back,\u201d he said huskily, his eyelids shuttering.<\/p>\n<p>She felt herself flush and looked away. She needed to go home. Now.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, so speaking of cheap, fast, and easy, how \u2019bout a chocolate souffl\u00e9? It\u2019s the only reason I come here, and I owe you one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d rather have lemon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He blinked, surprised. \u201cYou were okay with chocolate yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey didn\u2019t have lemon,\u201d she said wryly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow\u2019d you know that? You didn\u2019t even look at the menu.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She began to chuckle. \u201cI had lunch there Monday.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSneaky.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The ice was breaking. Slowly.<\/p>\n<p>A waiter came around to take their order, but when he informed them they didn\u2019t have lemon souffl\u00e9, Jack said, \u201cYou do today.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, Mr. Blackwood, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia gaped at the waiter\u2019s back, then caught Jack\u2019s smirk. \u201cIt didn\u2019t take them long to figure that out, did it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She supposed she shouldn\u2019t be surprised. \u201cHow&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI told you I come here for the chocolate souffl\u00e9. Best in town. That ma\u00eetre d\u2019 is new. He\u2019ll be fired by the time we leave.\u201d At her surprised look, he said, \u201cNo, I\u2019m not going to say anything. I don\u2019t give a shit. The head waiter who knows me saw it, but you stepped in before he could.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>At her silence, because she had no words, he purred with a slight sneer, \u201cI put this place on the map.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBecause of chocolate souffl\u00e9,\u201d she replied softly, charmed and unable to help her little smile.<\/p>\n<p>The corner of his mouth tilted up and his sneer went away. \u201cYeh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSay, Lyds,\u201d Sebastian cut in with feigned nonchalance, \u201cwhat are your plans tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He knew very good and well what her plans were because he\u2019d built the itinerary. But he was trying to keep the awkward silence from taking hold again. \u201cThe biggest thing,\u201d she said while rearranging her napkin again, \u201cis tickets for <em>Show Boat<\/em>. I have an appointment to see a B\u00f6sendorfer\u2014a piano,\u201d she added quickly for Jack\u2019s benefit. \u201cI\u2019m looking for one that\u2019ll fit in my house.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She could feel him watching her carefully, <em>listening<\/em> to her even though to her ears, she was simply babbling to fill the silence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI like <em>Show Boat<\/em>,\u201d he murmured. \u201cWouldn\u2019t mind piano shopping. As long as I don\u2019t have to listen to a concert. I hate that shit.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made her laugh. \u201cOkay,\u201d she whispered as she met his gaze, this man who could see who she was and appreciate her for it. He was an <em>awful<\/em> man\u2014and she didn\u2019t care. They stayed that way for several seconds, looking at each other soberly, trying to negotiate a truce silently, with a mediator biased for Lydia in case anything went wrong.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Which, of course, it did.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s mouth tightened at the sound of Ramona\u2019s voice coming from the lobby of the restaurant, and she sank back into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAw, shit,\u201d Sebastian muttered, throwing his napkin in his place setting and sitting back.<\/p>\n<p>Jack simply closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack!\u201d she called again as she closed the distance between the door and their table. She stopped short when she saw Lydia, but then her expression changed to one of hopeful penitence. \u201cUm. Hi again,\u201d she said gingerly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi,\u201d Lydia returned, noting the diamond bracelet on her wrist.<\/p>\n<p>With a cute little huff, she shooed Sebastian into the chair next to Jack and she took Sebastian\u2019s seat. \u201cI am so sorry,\u201d Ramona said, grasping her hands.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia yelped and snatched her hands back.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI injured them,\u201d she explained, struggling not to scream at Ramona just for existing, and cautiously held them out for her to see.<\/p>\n<p>They were purpling nicely and Ramona grimaced. \u201cThat looks painful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia couldn\u2019t look at Jack because there was no way any of this could be salvaged now. No <em>Show Boat<\/em>, no piano shopping with a guy who hated good music, no weekend in bed with a brilliant, hot guy who saw her, knew her, made her laugh. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And that was all Ramona needed to start filling the silence with chatter directed at anybody willing to listen about that time she <em>also<\/em> smashed her hand and how much she empathized. It apparently escaped the woman\u2019s notice that nobody at the table was having a good time.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian was silent. Jack was silent. Lydia had nothing to say.<\/p>\n<p>Therefore, when a fifth wheel rolled up to their table, all three of them jumped, startled. Ramona <em>did<\/em> stop chattering, but she gave the intruder\u2014another leggy blonde <em>also<\/em> with a diamond bracelet on her wrist\u2014an incendiary glare.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, Ramona!\u201d the woman cooed, glancing acidly at Ramona\u2019s wrist. \u201cI didn\u2019t know you knew Jack. Jack!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His voice chock full of weary resignation, Jack sighed. \u201cAh, yeah, hi, Paula.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi Sebastian!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi, Paula,\u201d he returned tightly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m surprised to see you here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCut the crap. You followed us in here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, I did not, silly,\u201d she tittered, looking at Lydia. \u201cWho\u2019s your&nbsp;\u2026 <em>lovely<\/em>&nbsp;\u2026 girlfriend, Jack?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The contempt in Paula\u2019s voice was thick and Lydia was way beyond her capacity for politeness. \u201cCould you be <em>more<\/em> of a clich\u00e9?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack barked a laugh. Sebastian gaped at her. Ramona started to snicker. Paula flushed a little.<\/p>\n<p>But she recovered and sneered at Lydia. \u201c<em>I<\/em> don\u2019t look like a Munchkin.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>I<\/em> am adorably cute, not\u2014\u201d Here she swept Paula up and down. \u201c\u2014a forty-nine-dollar blowup doll on clearance.\u201d Her mouth dropped open. \u201cEither you need to sue your surgeon for malpractice or learn how to pad a bra. Your boobs are lopsided.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Ramona cackled viciously. By this time, Sebastian was laughing. Jack\u2019s eyebrows were up to his hairline, looking at Lydia with that gorgeous grin.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShoo, fly,\u201d Lydia drawled with bored hauteur and a dismissive wave of a hand. \u201cYou\u2019re bothering me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, you\u2019re a bitch,\u201d she snarled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAn adorably <em>cute<\/em> one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBye, <em>darling<\/em>,\u201d Ramona cooed.<\/p>\n<p>Paula flounced off, leaving Lydia\u2019s tablemates amused and looking to her for more entertainment, but Lydia was bored, depressed, angry, and tired. Tired of this stupid little soap opera.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you all,\u201d Lydia said as she stood, gathering up her purse and backpack. \u201cI\u2019m very tired and I need to tend my hands.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll take you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia and Sebastian looked at Jack, surprised. \u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d Lydia\u2019s mouth opened and closed. \u201cI don\u2019t want to impose. Market\u2019s still open, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Didn\u2019t matter. It was too late. Too many obstacles, too much history gathered in too little time. \u201cI know my way around New York, but thanks. And thanks for lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That hadn\u2019t arrived.<\/p>\n<p>She left as quickly as she could, before she said something she would regret, like <em>Yes, Jack, thank you. Stay the night?<\/em><\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">6: TIN MAN<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">JACK SURREPTITIOUSLY watched Lydia walk out, her generous ass and hips in that tight gold-encrusted red satin doing a number on his libido for reasons he couldn\u2019t fathom. Ramona was still laughing and asking Sebastian where he met Lydia.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFriend of a cousin who happened to become my friend too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, that\u2019s nice! Not often you can be friends with your family\u2019s friends. Or friends\u2019 friends.\u201d And Ramona\u2019s mouth started running again.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was still reeling from his inexplicable attraction to that cute little piano teacher, coming to his defense at a tiny manifestation of disdain for his ethnicity then slam-dunking Paula, which was not only hilarious but had saved him from having to deal with a cat fight between two women he\u2019d had sex with while the one he now wanted to have sex with watched.<\/p>\n<p>He should\u2019ve told Lydia he\u2019d broken it off with Ramona, but she knew. She\u2019d noted the women\u2019s bracelets with a slight sneer and seething contempt. For them. For him.<\/p>\n<p>There was no way he could salvage this now. Lydia was too sure of herself, her place in the world, her superiority to the types of women Jack dated, her superiority to <em>him<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s funny,\u201d Jack said vaguely, turning back to his meal when Ramona pressed him for an opinion. Oh, he had an opinion. He just didn\u2019t know what it was yet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAdorably cute, too, but not your type.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNope,\u201d Jack affirmed firmly. He and Ramona were officially done, so why she wanted his confirmation, he didn\u2019t know. \u201cHey, look, I need to get back to the office, but I need the walk.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, good. Just me and Sebastian.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s mouth tightened. Jack stood.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBye, Jack!\u201d Ramona trilled.<\/p>\n<p>Jack didn\u2019t bother to answer.<\/p>\n<p>His hands buried in his pockets and his head down, feeling very much like a beaten dog, he left the restaurant and shuffled down the street to walk off some of his tension and sort out his confusion about this <em>person<\/em> he was attracted to in spite of the fact that she wasn\u2019t opportunistic, wasn\u2019t beautiful or leggy or <em>blonde<\/em> blonde\u2014a cheap blowup doll\u2014he smiled a little\u2014was interested in what he had to say, a cultured college professor, and a vindictive bitch.<\/p>\n<p>Watching her display her alpha like that\u2014twice\u2014was almost as hot as watching her fuck that piano.<\/p>\n<p>Yesterday, she\u2019d been thrilled to meet him in spite of the fact that he was rude, crude, and socially unacceptable. They\u2019d had a good time together at lunch, talking, dancing through the sexual tension that surrounded them like a thick fog, knowing that when Friday night came, so would they.<\/p>\n<p>Until he\u2019d fucked it up.<\/p>\n<p>And continued fucking it up until now all he wanted to do was punch something.<\/p>\n<p>Jack went by boutiques selling overpriced tchotchkes and purses. He went by a little coffee shop selling expensive coffee that was worth every penny and more. He went by a little chocolate shop selling overpriced but average chocolate.<\/p>\n<p>Fuck it. He needed a shot of chocolate so badly he\u2019d take a Hershey\u2019s bar.<\/p>\n<p>So he headed in and stopped at the case, staring down at it, his hands still buried in his pockets, ignoring the people around him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked up, straight into Lydia Charbonneau\u2019s plain gray eyes. \u201cHi,\u201d he said flatly. He hadn\u2019t been following her, but he wasn\u2019t completely surprised to see her. Tourists came here all the time and she had turned this direction when she left the restaurant. \u201cThe chocolate here\u2019s not that great,\u201d he found himself saying, uncaring that the proprietor was <em>right there<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo back to your own country!\u201d the owner barked.<\/p>\n<p>He casually flipped the guy off before Lydia could blister him. \u201cHave you picked anything out yet?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shook her head.<\/p>\n<p>He tilted his head toward the door. \u201cC\u2019mon. I\u2019ll take you to get the good stuff. They have lemon truffles for the unenlightened.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The corner of her mouth tilted up. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He lightly brushed her back as he ushered her out the door into the cool March afternoon. He shoved his hands in his pockets again and started down the street.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes that happen a lot?\u201d she asked. \u201c\u2018Go back to your own country\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know. I don\u2019t usually notice.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCabs don\u2019t pass you by? You don\u2019t have problems with cops or security or anything?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He glanced at her in shock. \u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 no. Why would I? And even if I did, why would you notice or care? You\u2019re a cute little white girl.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 I\u2014 My father was a minority. Of sorts. I saw it a lot in our community, so I\u2019m sensitive to it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe was from Cuba,\u201d she said shortly.<\/p>\n<p>Jack decided not to press it. \u201cThe truth is, if it doesn\u2019t affect my life, it\u2019s irrelevant and if it does, it\u2019s stupid shit like that ma\u00eetre d\u2019. If I\u2019m out with my family, who can mostly all pass for white, people assume I\u2019m a family friend or adopted or my dad\u2019s not my natural father, but I\u2019m legit. Freak genetics. I inherited my Indian grandfather\u2019s skin and brains, and I got my balls from my old-soldier stiff-upper-lip English grandfather, so it\u2019s a wash.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cManifesting as dickishness.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no. They\u2019re both dicks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was born knowing who I am and on Wall Street, if you make a shit-ton of money for the bosses, nobody cares until you start wanting to date their sisters. I wasn\u2019t interested in anybody\u2019s sisters, though, so I didn\u2019t care about that, either. Women like you who are attracted to me don\u2019t want to be around me because I\u2019m a dick.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She puffed a laugh and looked down, scuffing a pebble with the toe of her tiny tennies.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut you\u2019re not as nice as you look. You even fooled me and that\u2019s hard to do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She chuckled. \u201cThat sounds like a compliment.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt most certainly is. \u2018Malpractice\u2019 was fucking brilliant.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked up at him with a smile. \u201cI learned from the best.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know, you\u2019re a born New Yorker,\u201d he said slyly, wondering if\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was auditioning for a job here,\u201d she reminded him in that low, earthy voice. \u201cI can go anywhere in the world and get a prestigious position. Even India.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He released a long, slow breath, never breaking her gaze. \u201cHow prestigious do you need your positions to be?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her eyebrow rose. \u201cThey have to be satisfying and since I\u2019m a virtuoso, my standards are very high. I only try something once and if it\u2019s not good enough, I move on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His heart was pounding against his ribs. \u201cI\u2019m accustomed to meeting high standards,\u201d he said low.<\/p>\n<p>Again she shrugged and looked away. It was her tell for when she was flustered, turned on, or hiding something. Her other tell was that she wasn\u2019t walking away from him right now.<\/p>\n<p>He said nothing for half a block to goad her into speaking first. Silence made people uncomfortable enough to start talking. It was a salesman\u2019s tactic he used as a last resort because, at his level, he didn\u2019t have to use <em>tactics<\/em>. His name was his only <em>tactic<\/em>. Even when he was just starting out, he didn\u2019t use silence much because he couldn\u2019t keep <em>his<\/em> mouth shut that long.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo,\u201d she said finally said. He got the distinct feeling she knew what he was doing and capitulated anyway. \u201cIt\u2019s not just souffl\u00e9s? You like chocolate that much you know where all the good places are?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI might not know much about much,\u201d he said with alacrity, \u201cbut I\u2019m a chocolate connoisseur. And a junkie. I needed a fix.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh. After the ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend meet up for a bitch-off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made him laugh, and he rubbed his mouth, casting her a grin. \u201cSays Dr. Drama Queen.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe wasn\u2019t clever or original. It bugged.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh, yes. I remember now. Bitchy and vulgar, but <em>never<\/em> boring.\u201d Her smile widened, and damned if he didn\u2019t nearly swallow his tongue. \u201cThat was actually a meeting of <em>two<\/em> ex-girlfriends.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm. You have good taste in jewelry, I\u2019ll give you that much.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack sighed heavily. \u201cIt was over before I met you, then she caught wood for Sebastian. She was hoping I\u2019d facilitate.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed softly and Jack wished he were actually <em>funny<\/em> funny so he could keep her laughing. \u201cI\u2019ve not heard that phrase in reference to a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA clit\u2019s just a microdick, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her laughter thickened. \u201cYou have a point.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHold on.\u201d With that, he stepped around her, off the curb, and hailed a cab. He wondered if she noticed he\u2019d had no problem getting one. He gestured for Lydia to get in, then he slid in beside her, giving the cabbie an address for a tiny chocolate shop on Pine Street.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s all the way downtown,\u201d Lydia observed, and he was impressed she knew that.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDefinitely a New Yorker,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cI like it here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen what\u2019re you doing in Kansas? What\u2019s it got that New York doesn\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCars,\u201d she drawled disdainfully. \u201cIt\u2019s got <em>cars<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI bet your motorcycle cuts through traffic like butter.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt does, but I like my car too much to get rid of it or not drive it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019d you plan to do with it if you got the job?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStore it until I got itchy feet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019d store your car just for an occasional roadtrip instead of renting?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t keep a fully restored 1966 Mustang convertible?\u201d she purred.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s jaw dropped. He would never have pictured her in such a car but he couldn\u2019t think of one more perfect for her. \u201cIs it purple?\u201d he blurted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d She smirked and purred, \u201cIt\u2019s candy-apple red with high gloss coating and white ragtop.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack started to laugh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you know how to drive?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes,\u201d he said snidely. \u201cI even have a car. I run up to my parents\u2019 place in Connecticut and I don\u2019t like being at the mercy of my driver.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her eyebrow rose. \u201cMama\u2019s boy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaddy\u2019s,\u201d he shot back. \u201cPlay tennis. Help around the house. I told you my life was boring. A thirty-six-year-old man who likes hanging out with his folks is boring and pathetic.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Good God, she looked fucking <em>impressed<\/em>. No woman was ever impressed by a guy who hung out with his parents.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour parents don\u2019t hire that stuff out? Even I hire housekeepers and landscapers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cMy parents didn\u2019t come into real money until I started managing it. I\u2019m no private prep school brat. I mean, we had a nice house in a nice neighborhood. Better than middle class, but not anywhere in the range of upper middle class. You know, <em>Leave it to Beaver<\/em>. By the time they could afford private schools, I was seventeen, I had my life mapped out, and I wasn\u2019t going to be yanked off track. They\u2019re still in the same house and now they\u2019re the millionaire-next-door types. My brothers take care of the lawn. I do the maintenance because I know that house like the back of my hand, and when I do, it\u2019s because I need to burn off some extra energy. So I keep my car.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her expression softened even more, and for some reason Jack didn\u2019t understand, he <em>liked<\/em> that she wasn\u2019t dismissive of him, didn\u2019t find his relationship with his parents to be pathetic, and was impressed by these stupid things he did even though he didn\u2019t have to. He\u2019d never cared what women thought of these things because he didn\u2019t go out with ones who wanted to <em>talk<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p><em>Now<\/em> he cared.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBeemer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She rolled her eyes and promptly <em>stopped<\/em> being impressed. \u201cYou <em>are<\/em> a walking stereotype, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cI am, but you are not. You intrigue me more with every word that comes out of your mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is a new experience for you, I take it? Talking to intriguing women?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIntriguing women don\u2019t like to talk to me. Can\u2019t figure out why you do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re smart. Interesting. Funny.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSmart doesn\u2019t count for much when the only thing you <em>want<\/em> to talk about is math and sex\u2014\u201d She grinned. \u201c\u2014neither of which are particularly interesting as topics of conversation. As for funny, <em>nobody<\/em> thinks I\u2019m funny.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have a sick and twisted sense of humor.\u201d She rolled her shoulder suggestively, making all the gold in her hair glimmer in the sunlight filtering through the cab\u2019s open windows. Her curls were flying here and there, plastering themselves to her face before she absently swept them away.<\/p>\n<p>He couldn\u2019t help himself. He leaned into her and kissed her.<\/p>\n<p>She squeaked a little into his mouth, her eyes wide, then relaxed and kissed him back. Then she closed her eyes, sighed, tilted her head a little so he could get deeper.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm,\u201d she hummed, softly taking his face in her hands.<\/p>\n<p>It went on and on, and if it kept going like this, they\u2019d end up in bed tonight, which was not a bad idea at all. He immediately began rearranging his schedule in his head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLydia,\u201d he whispered against her mouth, \u201ccome home with me. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShhh,\u201d she breathed and continued the kiss, finding his tongue, nibbling a little on his top lip.<\/p>\n<p>She was driving him fucking crazy and if this didn\u2019t stop he\u2019d fuck her right here, right now. \u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm. Shush.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Except he couldn\u2019t. \u201cIs that a yes?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes. <em>Shut\u2014up.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Oh, God, he was going to <em>die<\/em> before they got downtown if they kept kissing like this.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am so glad,\u201d Jack murmured huskily as he pulled away from her only far enough to say, \u201cI am done with those bitches.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>That<\/em> was the wrong thing to say. She jerked away from him, her expression shut down, her smile gone. And she\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck! Seriously?\u201d he barked when she scrubbed her mouth on her sleeve\u2014the sleeve of a seven-thousand-dollar outfit!<\/p>\n<p>The look she gave him was pure poison, then she knocked on the ceiling.<\/p>\n<p>The cab swerved to the curb and she got out, all in a few seconds during which Jack couldn\u2019t form one coherent thought.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWait! Lydia! Shit,\u201d he hissed as he scrambled for his clip and peeled off God only knew how many twenties for a five-dollar ride. \u201cShit,\u201d he said again as he then scrambled out of the car and jogged to catch up to her, storming down the sidewalk, her curls bouncing, the gold on her jacket twinkling, taunting him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, look,\u201d he said when he caught up to her. \u201cI\u2014\u201d What? Didn\u2019t mean it like that? He certainly did. Wasn\u2019t usually that direct? He certainly was. \u201cI\u2019m used to opportunists,\u201d he blurted.<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t respond. Didn\u2019t look at him. Didn\u2019t acknowledge his existence. Just kept walking.<\/p>\n<p>Dirp.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was trying to reassure you that I\u2019m not about them. They weren\u2019t there for me. They were there for Sebastian, which was fine with me because I was done with \u2019em anyway.\u201d He grimaced. That sounded bad even to him.<\/p>\n<p>All he got for that was ignored.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLydia, c\u2019mon, you <em>know<\/em> what I\u2019m trying to say.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Then he realized he was begging. Why was he begging? He didn\u2019t have to beg anyone for anything. <em>Especially<\/em> women. He stopped cold. \u201cFine!\u201d he yelled at her back. \u201cFuck you, too!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Nothing. Not even the bird.<\/p>\n<p>He stood there frustrated, pissed off, at her, at himself, watching her get farther and farther away from him. He sighed and started after her again.<\/p>\n<p>She stopped and looked across the street. Then Jack heard a scream from across and down the street. <em>Help! Help!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Meh, this was New York. Somebody got mugged. Big deal. Stuff like that probably didn\u2019t happen much out in Little Piano on the Prairie, so of <em>course<\/em> it\u2019d get her attention.<\/p>\n<p>To his shock, though, she bolted across the street, deftly dodging cars without a hitch, getting to the other side and&nbsp;\u2026 disappearing into the crowd.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck,\u201d he whispered, taking a deep breath and heading across the street\u2014fucking <em>jaywalking!<\/em>\u2014after her. She was going to get herself killed, pulling rube touristy shit like that. They were all too nosy and do-gooding.<\/p>\n<p>He knew when he\u2019d caught up to her because there was a crowd gathered. He barged his way through it to see her, panting, with the collars of two kids in her injured hands, holding onto the squirming children with ease, shrugging her backpack up on her shoulder and failing. There were two beat cops, one talking to Lydia and one talking to a late-middle-aged woman whose arm was around an elderly gentleman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019re mine,\u201d Lydia was saying to the cop apologetically. \u201cWe\u2019re on our way to their therapist and they\u2014 Well. There\u2019s a reason they\u2019re in therapy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLydia\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She cast Jack another poisonous glare over her shoulder.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLady, you gotta keep your kids under control,\u201d the cop said threateningly. \u201cI can take you in for this.\u201d He looked at the kids\u2019 clothes, then hers. \u201cThey don\u2019t look like yours.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, um, they&nbsp;\u2026 dress this way to bug me. I\u2019m\u2014 Look,\u201d she said, her voice trembling as if she were about to cry. \u201cI\u2019m a single mother. I was auditioning for an acting job\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack rolled his eyes. Both cops snorted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014and my ex-husband\u2019s going to take my kids and, officer, I swear to you, we barely escaped with our lives.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was chewing the fucking scenery.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, <em>Precious<\/em>,\u201d Jack said, stepping forward. He held out his hand to the cop. \u201cFianc\u00e9. My fault. They got away from me while she was auditioning.\u201d Well, she <em>had<\/em> been auditioning today. \u201cEx really is homicidal.\u201d One kid was flushed and his struggles were fading. The other kid was still squirming and though Jack knew Lydia probably had the grip of an iron claw, she was also in pain. Her face was pale and her knuckles were purple and swollen. They needed to be iced.<\/p>\n<p>So he grabbed the slightly bigger one by the back of the neck and squeezed a little, surreptitiously, just to make sure the kid knew he meant business. That was when the kid seemed to figure out they really were being rescued, so he slowly stopped trying to get away. The little one was starting to wilt completely.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia let go and picked the little one up, let him slump against her shoulder, rocked him a little, and rubbed his back. This seemed to convince the cops she was telling the truth.<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked at the victims. \u201cI can pay the damages.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing was taken,\u201d said the woman who clutched her purse to her chest, \u201cbut they knocked over my father.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Yeah, the guy looked like he\u2019d blow away in a good breeze. \u201cThen can I get you to the ER?\u201d Jack asked smoothly. \u201cHappy to pay for it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That shocked the woman and her father. \u201cI&nbsp;\u2026 uh&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI really need to get these two to their appointment,\u201d Lydia said earnestly, turning back to the beat cop and looking up into his eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Jack shivered a little at how creepy it was that the guy stopped, stared, blinked, then shook it off and said gruffly, \u201cYeah. Your boyfriend here\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014can get names, addresses, and phone numbers,\u201d Jack said quickly. \u201cGo on, <em>Precious<\/em>,\u201d he said through his teeth when he looked at her. Her eyes narrowed at him slightly, and just to be a dick, he leaned in and kissed her again. He almost yelped when she bit his lip.<\/p>\n<p>No one noticed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cC\u2019mon, kids,\u201d she said lightly. \u201cWe\u2019re burnin\u2019 daylight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHicks,\u201d muttered the woman as Lydia shuffled the kids past, through the crowd, and down the street.<\/p>\n<p>Jack gathered all the information he could. The pair declined to go to the hospital, make a statement, or press charges, but that might have been because of a generous flash of green from Jack\u2019s money clip.<\/p>\n<p>As soon as he could, he took off down the street, hoping he hadn\u2019t lost them, but he heard them before he saw them. Rather, he heard Lydia lecturing. Loudly. Angrily.<\/p>\n<p>He turned into Central Park and saw them in a narrow nook, the big kid sitting on a ledge cowering in front of her. He had no escape. There were brambles behind them, a fence on one side, rocks on the other, and Lydia was blocking his escape route. The small one was still in her arms, his eyes closed.<\/p>\n<p>So Jack stopped and leaned against a stone pillar, crossing his arms over his chest.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me where to find your doc!\u201d she demanded.<\/p>\n<p>Jack blinked. That wasn\u2019t normal riot-reading conversation. She turned and glared at Jack. \u201cThe girl\u2019s got a fever and she might need antibiotics. She needs medical attention <em>now<\/em>, but she can\u2019t go to an ER.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack scowled. \u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019ll put them in foster care, that\u2019s why, which, for these two, is worse than how they\u2019re living now.\u201d She threw her backpack at him so hard he oofed. \u201cGo get some Tylenol and bottles of water or something. Make yourself useful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Okay, that was it. It was official.<\/p>\n<p>He <em>hated<\/em> her. <em>Hated<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>But he didn\u2019t even have a chance to move before the small child\u2014who didn\u2019t look like a girl\u2014shifted and practically rolled out of her arms. Lydia caught her just in time, but Jack strode over and plucked her out of Lydia\u2019s arms. Jack knew nothing about children or how hot they ran, but not only was she bright red, she was practically steaming.<\/p>\n<p>He glared at the boy\u2014at least, he thought he was a boy\u2014and said, \u201cAnswer the question. Now. Your sister\u2019s burning up here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSpanish Harlem,\u201d the boy muttered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere in Spanish Harlem?\u201d Lydia demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThird and one-thirteenth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She turned and bolted past Jack, then he heard a sharp whistle. \u201cCome on!\u201d she yelled.<\/p>\n<p>Somehow all four of them managed to get into the back of a cab whose very large driver, it seemed, was a nosy fuck. \u201cHospital?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>When Lydia gave the intersection, he turned around slowly and looked at her. Then he looked at the boy, who said, \u201cSimon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The cab driver nodded and the child deflated into the seat, closing his eyes and leaning against Lydia, who wrapped her arm around him and hugged him close.<\/p>\n<p>Jack had no idea what was going on, but he kept his mouth shut and marveled at how fast they got from the Lower West Side to East Harlem.<\/p>\n<p>They stopped in front of any one of a dozen shitty rows of shops between a hundred thirteenth and hundred fourteenth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo!\u201d Lydia barked at Jack while she dug in her purse. Jack did as he was told, carrying the girl and letting the boy guide him. He didn\u2019t look back for Lydia, as she seemed to be able to handle herself well here, for a touchy rube from Flyover, U.S.A.<\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t long before she caught up to them, her chest heaving. \u201cIf she\u2019s too heavy,\u201d Lydia panted, \u201cI can carry her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack just glared at her. \u201cYour hands got better all of a sudden.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAdrenaline,\u201d she snapped, following the boy into a dark, dank, disgusting labyrinth of waste, sewage, and humans who all resembled trash bags.<\/p>\n<p>At the end of the third turn there was a rusted-shut rollup door flanked by high stacks of trash bags and no way out but back. Jack panicked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit, this girl\u2019s going to die in my arms!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But the boy stuck his hand in a rusty hole and pushed. \u201cSimon!\u201d he called. \u201cMary\u2019s sick.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And where there had been what appeared to be a dead-end, there was now an entrance to a run-down but clean apartment. \u201cIn here,\u201d said a tall, wiry black woman with short dreadlocks and wearing blue scrubs. Jack followed where she was pointing, which was a small exam room that looked meticulously kept.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, is this kid contagious?\u201d Jack demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWith any luck,\u201d the woman said, \u201cno. Put her on the table.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack carefully laid the girl on the table, a standard padded thing with the paper covering it. It crinkled normally.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUndress her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack grimaced. \u201cUm. No.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUndress her!\u201d Lydia barked from the other room.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck you!\u201d he yelled as he set about undressing a little girl while the woman\u2014doctor? nurse?\u2014washed her hands and put gloves on. She worked silently, taking vitals, looking in her ears with the thing he didn\u2019t know the name of while he gingerly tried to get her thin tee shirt off.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cScissors,\u201d said the woman calmly. \u201cBehind you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack began to hurry when she showed him the child\u2019s temperature: 104.5.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow bad is that?\u201d he asked quietly, now snipping her clothes off without hesitation.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBad. Towels in the second drawer down. Soak them in cold water.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack was uncultured, not uneducated, stupid, or shit in a crisis, so he followed his common sense and worked with the\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAre you a doctor or a nurse or what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoctor. Most folks just call me Simon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Simon says<\/em>. \u201cJack.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNice to meet you, Jack. Ear infection,\u201d she said after further examination, which involved prying the child\u2019s mouth open. \u201cPossibly strep throat. Normal kid stuff that\u2019s fatal for street kids. I need to get some Tylenol and antibiotics in her. Just keep keeping her cool. Jesus!\u201d she called. The boy appeared in the door of the exam room. \u201cHow long has she been sick?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat were you doing before you ran into these two?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMugging an old man,\u201d Jack muttered as he worked. \u201cCentral Park West, Sixty-fifth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDammit!\u201d the doc burst out, slamming her hand on the table and glaring at the boy over her shoulder. Jack glanced up to see him cowering, which he figured was in order. \u201cI told you not to go down that far.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSomebody needed a message delivered.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The doc sighed heavily, but didn\u2019t respond. \u201cHow did you know to bring them here?\u201d she asked Jack. \u201cThat suit\u2019s bespoke.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t,\u201d he muttered. \u201cThe lady in there. Lydia. She got this ball rolling.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe saved this little girl\u2019s life. Lydia!\u201d she shouted. \u201cMake Jell-O.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay!\u201d Water immediately began running, and cabinets banged open and closed.<\/p>\n<p>Simon swung around to glare at the little boy again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCut it out,\u201d Jack said. \u201cHe\u2019s a kid.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s a street kid, and he knows better. He lets Mary run roughshod over him. That your girlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, <em>hell<\/em> no!\u201d came her voice from the other room. A cabinet slammed closed.<\/p>\n<p>Simon\u2019s eyes flickered up to Jack, her mouth twitching in amusement. He looked away. No, not his girlfriend. Not now. Not ever. He\u2019d screwed that pooch, killed it, skinned it, roasted it, eaten it, and shat it back out again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPrep her arm.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack turned, scratching his memory for what that meant, and looked for alcohol pads by instinct. Found them. Clipped off the sleeve of her tattered shirt, turned her arm over, and rubbed the alcohol over her skin. More alcohol. More.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s good. Thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He watched her put two syringes of stuff in her arm, one after the other.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow,\u201d she said, \u201cgo put her on the couch and keep her cool.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s the Jell-O for?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe have to keep her hydrated. Easier to get water in \u2019em with Jell-O and popsicles.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo popsicles,\u201d Lydia called. \u201cBodega?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOut, right, three blocks up, two over and \u2019cross Third.\u201d Simon looked up at Jack and murmured, \u201cYour girlfriend\u2019s sharp.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His jaw locked.<\/p>\n<p>Jack pulled the girl into his arms, took her into the tiny living room and laid her carefully on the well-worn couch.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, don\u2019t hold her. Her fever won\u2019t go down with heat against her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia was moving around like she\u2019d been here before, and after opening the refrigerator and staring, she slammed it closed and disappeared into the exam room, coming out again in scrubs. She found her purse, took out some cash, threw her purse at Jack, and left without a word.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSoooo,\u201d Simon said, handing Jack a glass of water, turning a small fan on the girl, and sitting in a soft chair opposite to the one he\u2019d claimed. \u201cWhat\u2019s the story?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He told her what he knew, which was little enough.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd why are you two in on this together if you\u2019re not together?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWrong place, wrong time,\u201d he muttered. \u201cSaid the wrong thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe just met. Three days ago. She\u2019s not impressed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She said nothing more. Neither did Jack. They both watched the little girl, with the boy hovering on the edges. Simon made a gesture and there he was, in her lap, snuggled up against her.<\/p>\n<p>Jack gestured around. \u201cWhat is&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a clinic, obviously,\u201d she answered, half annoyed, half condescending. \u201cPeople who can\u2019t show up in an ER come here. Lots of stuff that needs penicillin. Broken bones, gunshot wounds.\u201d She gestured to his clothes again. \u201cYou\u2019re pretty far away from home. You coulda told her to handle it and gone home. No skin off your nose.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cDo you need money?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI always need money.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He nodded and took out his clip, then tossed it to her.<\/p>\n<p>She looked at it, took the clip off, counted it, and tossed the empty clip back to him. \u201cMany thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He arose, took out his mobile phone and wandered into the kitchen, although <em>kitchen<\/em> was generous. It was little more than a couple of cabinets, a tiny sink and tiny oven. The refrigerator was normal sized\u2014and chock full of medicine.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cInsulin, mostly,\u201d she said when he stood there gaping at it. \u201cWe have some diabetic old folks around who still want to keep living, God only knows why.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack called Melinda to tell her he was out for the rest of the day, and which meetings he wanted Sebastian and Bucho to cover. He rooted around in the freezer for an ice pack after he hung up and laid it on the sleeping little girl\u2019s forehead.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou must be a high roller.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m the CEO of an investment bank,\u201d he said tightly, dropping into the chair. \u201cI can do whatever the fuck I want.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The slightly condescending air dissipated.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow old are the kids?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot sure. I think she\u2019s about five, six. The boy thinks he\u2019s eleven.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have two eleven-year-old nephews. He\u2019s nowhere near eleven.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe could be,\u201d Simon said matter-of-factly. \u201cStreet kids\u2019 bodies suffer. His growth is stunted, but I wouldn\u2019t know whether it\u2019s malnutrition or genetic or hormones without labs, which I can\u2019t get without getting busted.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s eyebrow rose.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m unlicensed. Clinic\u2019s off the radar. I can\u2019t sacrifice my invisibility for treatment that isn\u2019t life or death and if you do it, CPS will get to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was risking a lot, telling him this, especially since she didn\u2019t know he didn\u2019t like people stepping across lines into unethical. And an unlicensed doctor running an unlicensed clinic was pretty fucking unethical.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m only telling you this because I don\u2019t want a rich do-gooder with a savior complex and faith in social services deciding what\u2019s best for me and my clinic and the street kids around here, and there are more than just these two. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to trust you to keep your mouth shut, but keep this in mind: If you turn me in, you\u2019ll kill a few kids.\u201d She gestured to little Mary.<\/p>\n<p>He slid his jaw back and forth in thought. \u201cFine,\u201d he finally said, although it made him very uncomfortable to let an <em>unlicensed<\/em> clinic and doc go. \u201cYou have my word.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich doesn\u2019t mean much amongst you Wall Street types.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was questioning his <em>word?!<\/em> \u201cUnlike many others of my professional persuasion,\u201d he growled, \u201cI have ethics, which are spotless, and I keep my word. Always. <em>Everybody<\/em> in corporate America trusts me to both do what\u2019s right <em>and<\/em> keep my word, which means <em>everybody<\/em> in corporate America wants to do business with me so when I <em>don\u2019t<\/em> do business with someone, <em>everybody else<\/em> knows something\u2019s wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her mouth tightened. \u201cFine. And&nbsp;\u2026 thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack didn\u2019t know how much time had lapsed before Lydia returned, her arms full of grocery bags, two teenagers following her with more. She ordered the kids to sit down and thunked a jug of orange juice between them, then began putting the rest of the food away.<\/p>\n<p>The little girl began to stir. Whether it was the noise or what, Jack didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you,\u201d Simon said. \u201cLydia, was it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes. How is she?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFever\u2019s gone down, but not enough.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia glanced at Jack. \u201cGo home. Your part\u2019s done.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His jaw clenched and he stared up at her stonily. \u201cI\u2019ll go home when I damn well please.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her eyebrow rose. \u201cDon\u2019t you have another couple of girlfriends waiting in the wings until you\u2019re <em>done<\/em> with them?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It took him a few seconds to come up with something more original than <em>fuck you<\/em>, but he watched her speculatively while he thought. \u201cIf I didn\u2019t know better,\u201d he drawled, \u201cI\u2019d start getting the idea you\u2019re jealous.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She flushed a little. Good God, really? Maybe there was hope. \u201cWhat I am is insulted.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMm hm. You don\u2019t have any reason to be jealous,\u201d he purred. \u201cI can show you how jealous you don\u2019t have to be.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She snarled at him. \u201cSlut.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The two boys at the table snorted so hard orange juice came out of their noses.<\/p>\n<p>But Jack just shrugged and went back to nursing his water, watching the little girl stir, and sensing every step Lydia made while she fussed with food. Dishes. Faucets. She ordered Jesus to the table and gave him a juice glass too. All four of them were speaking Spanish, but the teenagers\u2019 snotty tone was the same in every language. She snapped back, then faster and sharper as she got in the boys\u2019 faces.<\/p>\n<p>They went from snotty to completely cowed in about thirty seconds.<\/p>\n<p>Simon slid a shocked look toward the kitchenette and her eyebrows rose.<\/p>\n<p>And <em>then<\/em> they looked Lydia in the eye. Cowed turned to terror.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia plunked a plate of sandwiches down in front of them, sandwiches Jack didn\u2019t even notice she was making, and lectured a little more before she gave them popsicles.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLawdy,\u201d Simon whispered with awe and settled back into her chair, looking shellshocked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou speak Spanish?\u201d Jack asked.<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cBits and pieces.\u201d He gestured toward the kitchen and she shook her head. \u201cNo idea.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack watched her surreptitiously, awestruck and achingly aroused by exactly <em>how<\/em> alpha she was. God, how he wanted a piece of her.<\/p>\n<p>Lots of pieces.<\/p>\n<p>For a long time.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with the baby?\u201d Lydia called from the kitchen.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEar infection,\u201d Jack sniped. \u201cPossibly strep throat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJust waiting for the fever to break,\u201d Simon said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere is she going to stay?\u201d Lydia asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, here. They crash here when they feel like it.\u201d She paused. \u201cHow did you know they\u2019d have someone like me available to them?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia hesitated. \u201cI\u2019ve had some experience with black markets. Being underground. Invisible. They\u2019re filthy, but their clothes aren\u2019t completely trashed. Neither are their shoes. They\u2019re not too skinny. Kids like that don\u2019t run free without a home base.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou grew up in the streets?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She hesitated again, and her glance flickered to Jack. \u201cIn a manner of speaking.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cReally poor, then.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cFamily business didn\u2019t take off for a while. We didn\u2019t waste money on nice digs and new jeans when it did. Are you hungry?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cActually,\u201d Simon answered, \u201cI am. Yes. I haven\u2019t had a chance to get lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With that, Lydia turned and began taking pans and food out. Jack watched her work, dressed in those shapeless scrubs, her movements quick and efficient as she put a skillet on the stove, lit the burner with a match, spooned some gunk out of a tiny crock and slapped it in the skillet, cracked eggs into a bowl, beat the shit out of them with a fork, and poured them into the skillet. Salt. Pepper. A little lemon juice, a little butter. A few other spices.<\/p>\n<p>Jack had no idea why one would have to light a stove with a match.<\/p>\n<p>Mary was awakening. She was groggy. Mulish. Still feverish but not in the danger zone. Sulking after Simon gave her a stern, growling lecture on not going below Eighty-fifth, and staying on the east side of Central Park. Lydia scurried to get a purple popsicle in her hand, then she brought Simon the scrambled eggs.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThese are good,\u201d Simon told her matter-of-factly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks,\u201d she said absently as she dished up Jell-O for Mary. All of it. She put on water for another batch and began cleaning up after herself. \u201cI\u2019m going back to my place,\u201d Lydia announced after she\u2019d put the new pan of Jell-O into the fridge and put away the last dish. She turned to the teenagers, said something in Spanish, after which they got up and cleaned their dishes. Then put them away.<\/p>\n<p>Simon watched this in what looked like awe.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, Simon,\u201d Jack said, gesturing to Lydia. \u201cShe banged up her knuckles. Can you do something for her? They\u2019re not broken, but they do need to be iced and obviously she\u2019s not going to do it herself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Both Simon and Lydia looked at him in surprise, then Simon looked at Lydia, who reluctantly held them out for her inspection. \u201cAnd you\u2019ve been working like that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia slid Jack a blistering look. \u201cYou do what you have to.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon merely grunted and took Lydia back into the exam room.<\/p>\n<p>Jack watched the two women, their heads bent together, Simon taking care of her. It seemed to him, from the way she responded to first Sebastian then Jack taking care of her hands, Jack putting her shoes on, then Simon bandaging her hands, that she didn\u2019t get that much. She <em>certainly<\/em> hadn\u2019t objected when he\u2019d stroked her feet and ankles. What he didn\u2019t know was if it was a comfort or a turn-on.<\/p>\n<p>Comfort, probably, judging by the way Lydia\u2019s body was relaxing and she was just hanging her hands out there to be swabbed and bandaged like any of it was going to help.<\/p>\n<p>After rescuing a couple of street kids. Making food. Buying and carting groceries. Making more food. Ripping two tough-looking teenage boys a new one. In Spanish. Then feeding them, too.<\/p>\n<p>He clenched his jaw and looked away, listening to snatches of their conversation concerning logistics, getting more details of the day\u2019s misadventure, praising each other for their quick thinking, discussing the long-term care of the kids, including the teenagers and whatever she\u2019d said to them, which made Simon chuckle.<\/p>\n<p>Finally they were done, Lydia emerging with tidy bandages around her fingers, her face looking a lot less strained and in pain.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll be back in the morning to check on her and bring your clothes back,\u201d she was telling Simon as she got ready to leave.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll go with you,\u201d Jack said as he heaved himself out of the chair.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d Lydia said coldly over her shoulder. \u201cYou won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFine,\u201d he returned, tossing her purse and backpack at her so hard she oofed when she caught them. \u201cYour flamenco outfit\u2019s gonna need extra special cleaning,\u201d he drawled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s a traje de luces. A suit of lights, for people who are too important to learn Spanish.\u201d With that, she stormed out the door, the teenagers following like trained puppies.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe speaks Spanish?\u201d Mary asked in wonder, looking up over the couch at Jesus, who looked delightedly hopeful.<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked at Simon, who said, \u201cYou got your work cut out for you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His lip curled. \u201cI\u2019m not working that hard for any woman.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know a man in love when I see one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s jaw clenched. \u201cAnd I know a yenta when I see one. I <em>hate<\/em> that woman, so it\u2019s not happening. Not now. Not ever.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">7: NO GOOD DEED<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">MONDAY MORNING, Lydia was at the Wall Street station waiting for the train to take her up to Spanish Harlem to check on Simon and the kids for the third day in a row, which was the only reason she was still in New York. She was thinking she should\u2019ve waited until <em>after<\/em> rush hour when she heard someone\u2014male\u2014yell her name. She scowled when Jack caught up to her. He wasn\u2019t smiling. Wasn\u2019t penitent in the least. Was pissed off, in fact.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI want to start over again,\u201d he said tightly.<\/p>\n<p>That shocked her, especially because he seemed to expect her to be receptive in spite of his irritation. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly amused, she asked slyly, \u201cAny new girlfriends?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s one way to a girl\u2019s vagina,\u201d she drawled.<\/p>\n<p>He slid her an irritated glance. \u201cStop trying to make me laugh. I\u2019m busy being mad at you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She started to snicker, which made his mouth twitch. He was trying so hard not to laugh.<\/p>\n<p>Trying so hard to make up for his gaffes. He squinted at her. \u201cYou don\u2019t seem to mind unconventional flirtation.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cClits and microdicks?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>That<\/em> got him to laugh. \u201cBand name. Clits and Microdicks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed then too. \u201cSoooo you\u2019re mad at yourself, blame me, then track me down to talk about vulgar band names.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t track you down,\u201d he said testily. \u201cI\u2019m going the same place you are.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor which you could call your car service.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He gave her a get-real look. \u201cLike I\u2019m going to show up in that neighborhood stepping out of a Mercedes? Let\u2019s just put a fireworks show in front of Simon\u2019s labyrinth, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh.\u201d She looked at him then. Really looked. Ratty jeans. Worn concert tee shirt. Running shoes past their useful life. \u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm, and you in Daisy Dukes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour fashion ignorance is showing. Khaki knee shorts are light years away from Daisy Dukes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m using my very vivid imagination to dress up your disappointing vanilla-wear. Aren\u2019t Daisy Dukes like your uniform in Kansas?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she sneered. \u201c<em>We<\/em> are not uncultured swine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have culture.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIn your refrigerator.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He grinned, and Lydia was horrified by how much she still wanted to spend a weekend in bed with him.<\/p>\n<p>Talking.<\/p>\n<p>Laughing.<\/p>\n<p>Making love.<\/p>\n<p>Lord, she had it bad, or else she was just desperate. No, she knew exactly what it was and hopefully it would go away when she got home.<\/p>\n<p>But instead of giving him the cold shoulder as she should, she found herself asking, \u201cHow was your weekend?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSpent it in bed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her mouth pursed. Her nostrils flared.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThinking about <em>you<\/em>,\u201d he said smugly.<\/p>\n<p>Her breath caught and her body tingled in all the right places.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot really <em>all<\/em> weekend,\u201d he amended. \u201cJust long enough to get myself off a few times. Then I played tennis with my dad.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She put her hand to her mouth and started to laugh again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is not a joke.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t think it was. Is this why you want to start over?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, because I\u2019d rather have <em>you<\/em> in my hand, but it\u2019s hard to think up an extra super good grovel when I\u2019m imagining you naked and on top of me. Very, <em>very<\/em> hard. For a long, <em>long<\/em> time.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCondolences on your priapism.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t have to go to the ER.\u201d She was shocked, delighted, and he gave her a smug grin. \u201cDidn\u2019t think I\u2019d know that word, did you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou play tennis?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can hit a couple of balls when they come at me just right.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that a threat or a promise?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes it matter?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen a woman\u2019s pissed at you, it sure does.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed. \u201cSmart man. So tell me. How does one be a bond trader <em>and<\/em> a CEO? Aren\u2019t those jobs competing for time?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked surprised at the question. \u201c<em>Bonds<\/em> are the methadone to my <em>derivatives<\/em> heroin and I am an addict. I\u2019m the CEO because my boss pissed me off last year and I staged a coup, <em>then<\/em> I slapped my name on the building to rub it in.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s eyes widened and her bottom lip fell open. He began to preen again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich part of that has you shellshocked?\u201d he cooed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDerivatives,\u201d she drawled. \u201cYou really are an addict, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He scowled. \u201cYou aren\u2019t supposed to know what all that is. You\u2019re a fucking piano teacher.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know more than you do,\u201d she returned cheekily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHrmph. I was trying to impress you with the CEO part.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou mean, \u2018Oops, I just became supreme ruler. Now what do I do?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cOops is right. I didn\u2019t think that through at all so I\u2019m still trying to learn the job.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, since you confessed, I will too. I started watching a Canadian TV show. <em>Traders<\/em>. They just aired an episode on a derivatives genius.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI saw that!\u201d he said with the same excitement he\u2019d had at lunch. \u201cThe guy had three hours to make one-point-eight million dollars, and he worked for Hershey bars.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia nodded, trying not to laugh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI did that. Once, although it took me four hours and as you know, I\u2019m picky about my chocolate, but I made two and a half million. Most intense four hours of my life and I had to mainline caffeine and sugar to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s jaw dropped. \u201cOkay,\u201d she said slowly. \u201cIf that episode was true to life, I am most definitely impressed.\u201d Impressed that he didn\u2019t brag. Impressed he was that passionate about something. Impressed he was just a little boy who wanted to share his passion with someone who\u2019d listen. It wasn\u2019t difficult. She liked listening to him. He wanted to share his accomplishments with someone he thought might acknowledge he did something well, and she had no problem praising good work.<\/p>\n<p>Especially for a guy who accepted it and went on. \u201cAnd now you know why I trade bonds. It\u2019s a fucking <em>vacation<\/em>. Plus, I <em>can<\/em> do both jobs. Not well, but I can do it. The board of directors doesn\u2019t really like me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t imagine why.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014but they like my ethics and reputation, so the shareholders would scream. My COO, Melinda, you met her. She was one of my partners in crime. Right now she can\u2019t help me much because she had to take over her dad\u2019s operation after he went cuckoo. So she is <em>also<\/em> doing two hundred-hour-a-week jobs. Her boyfriend\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBucho.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight. He\u2019s a venture capitalist, but right now he\u2019s like a freelance executive floating between her company and mine. Sebastian\u2019s doing Melinda\u2019s job for the time being.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy don\u2019t you just hire somebody?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere are very few people I trust to take over so I can get my derivatives fix. I can CEO and trade bonds, but I can\u2019t CEO and trade derivatives.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf the only reason you\u2019re CEO was to teach somebody a lesson and you don\u2019t like doing it, then step down. Lesson taught.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI like having my name on the building too much,\u201d he said amiably.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo it\u2019s all about your ego.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He slid her a glance. \u201cLook in a mirror, sweetheart. You\u2019ve got \u2018Stroke my ego\u2019 tattooed on your forehead.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed, delighted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd I would be very happy to stroke your ego all you want.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWith a condom.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMost certainly. I do not want any passengers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re not going to get any from me. I am equally unencumbered.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUnencumbered? Well, aren\u2019t <em>you<\/em> Dr. Vocabulary.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt means\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know what it <em>means<\/em>. Nobody but my dad uses words like that and he\u2019s <em>also<\/em> a college professor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, uncle. I concede that you are smarter than I am and you have more letters behind your name. Happy now?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell,\u201d she conceded in return, \u201cquantitative finance and derivatives are way above my pay grade. But I\u2019m definitely better travelled.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you <em>must<\/em> know, I\u2019ve been to India and England to visit grandparents, but the jet lag killed me. Sleeping is my third inviolable tenet right after judicious use of alcohol, caffeine, and sugar, and avoiding STDs and unwanted pregnancies.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTenet? Inviolable? You even pronounced it correctly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He grinned smugly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut can you spell \u2018tenet\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cT-e-n-a-n-t.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She harrumphed. \u201cYou did that on purpose.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf being stupid will get me in your pants faster, I\u2019m all for spelling t-e-n-e-t wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf I thought you were stupid, I wouldn\u2019t have talked to you in the first place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, a <em>compliment!<\/em> I\u2019m moving up in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMaybe. I didn\u2019t know Tiggers slept.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe do,\u201d he said matter-of-factly. \u201cI crash at nine p.m. on the dot. And I do mean crash.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou just run out of steam and collapse into bed?\u201d she asked in amazement.<\/p>\n<p>He nodded. \u201cDepends on where I am at nine-oh-one, in which case I\u2019ll sleep under a bridge. I get up at four. I like to be in the office at five.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at her watch. Eight-thirty. \u201cYou\u2019ve got almost a half a day in already.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA normal person\u2019s workday, yes. You don\u2019t make as much money as I do working forty hours a week.\u201d He eyed her then. \u201cI hardly think you work forty hours a week, either. My dad sure as hell doesn\u2019t. At your audition, you said you teach composition too? That\u2019s actually writing music, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was shocked he remembered that. Thrilled. \u201cI edit and arrange music for a couple of publishing companies. Pop songs for different levels of proficiency. It kind of morphed into teaching pop music composition. You know, the chart-toppers that make you rich. Hooks, bridges, stuff like that. It\u2019s assembly-line music, but that and producing are where the money is if you can get a producer or singer to listen. Royalties on hit songs are unreal.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaaaaayyyyuuuum.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His expression and tone told her he was <em>very<\/em> impressed. Genuinely. Most people were, but he was too bouncy to be impressed by anything.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy hobby is arranging hit songs to be played on one piano and mimic all the backing tracks. It\u2019s not possible, but it\u2019s still incredibly difficult to play, actually comparable to what I played last week, but you don\u2019t audition with it, even at a performing arts school. Which is <em>another<\/em> reason I\u2019m so angry about that audition. I sent in those arrangements with my tapes. <em>That<\/em> should\u2019ve gotten me the job without having to audition. My students have to be able to play one of my arrangements as their final. Bonus if they can sing it, too. One of my grad students learned my most difficult one as part of his thesis.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich one?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2018Devil Went Down to Georgia.\u2019 One song. Nine credit hours.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His mouth dropped a little. \u201cOne thing you arranged was worth nine five-hundred-level credit hours?\u201d When she nodded, he breathed, \u201c<em>Fuuuuck<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She grinned cockily, which made him laugh. He was impressed. But not threatened. That was new and different. And <em>wonderful<\/em>, that he <em>thought<\/em> about what she did and expressed appreciation of it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut, uh, that\u2019s not high culture, like your audition.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFun music doesn\u2019t have to be simple,\u201d she said archly. \u201cCharlie Daniels is a brilliant musician. Freddie Mercury and Geddy Lee are <em>geniuses<\/em>. \u2018Devil\u2019\u2019s more difficult than anything I played at my audition, almost unplayable. The sheet music is one big mass of black. The final test was if he could play one part on the fly with me playing the other part, without preparation. But he did it and we both sang it, just like the song.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He started to laugh. \u201cI bet you did the devil part\u2014\u201d She grinned. \u201c\u2014with all that black magicky bullshit everybody thinks you do. Who won the gold fiddle?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNeither. All he had to do was be able to keep up,\u201d she explained, \u201ctake Johnny\u2019s cues, rap and sing Johnny\u2019s lines, and leave me to do the devil\u2019s. It was an improvisational exercise, a pop quiz, so to speak.\u201d Suddenly wanting to impress this man, she gave him a sly look. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t required. I just wanted to have some fun and show off for my colleagues. But they don\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He let out a peal of rich, deep laughter. \u201cGod, I\u2019d have given anything to see that ego on display!\u201d he crowed. After a full minute of laughter, during which he was wiping his eyes with his knuckle, he asked, \u201cWell, so&nbsp;\u2026 have you written any of your own hits?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shook her head. \u201cI\u2019m not an artist; I\u2019m a craftsman. Even if I were an artist, I don\u2019t want to shop it around. That\u2019s not interesting and I don\u2019t beg.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His lids shuttered a little. \u201cI could make you beg,\u201d he purred.<\/p>\n<p>He certainly could, but she wasn\u2019t going to tell <em>him<\/em> that. \u201cMy professional claim to fame,\u201d she said pointedly, \u201cbecause nobody at my level takes pop music seriously no matter how genius or difficult, is coaching highly advanced pianists, some of whom are <em>already<\/em> virtuosos and on the concert circuit. I\u2019m one of the toughest coaches in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow mean do you get, Teach?\u201d he asked with fake innocence. \u201cAsking for a friend.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sniffed. \u201cYou don\u2019t come from China to study with <em>me<\/em> if you aren\u2019t willing to get your butt handed to you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, that\u2019s where you learned how to terrify teenage ruffians who are bigger than you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey didn\u2019t want to help me take groceries back. It made me mad.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSimon was in awe. And <em>then<\/em> you did your eye thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJust because <em>you<\/em> don\u2019t see it doesn\u2019t mean everybody else is tripping.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cI am the only sane, drug-free man on Wall Street.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot even a line of coke in your formative years?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNoooooo. You?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no. My dad would\u2019ve\u2014 Well, I actually don\u2019t know what he\u2019d have done, but he put the fear of God in me if I ever so much as lit up a doobie.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood man. Good man.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Vodka<\/em>, on the other hand&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cHonestly, I don\u2019t mind a martini now and again\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no. You\u2019re an Old Fashioned kind of guy. You don\u2019t drink it because you like it. You drink it because it\u2019s straightforward, traditional, and warns everyone not to mess with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was clearly pleased. \u201cAnd your poison is lemon drops. Tart, colorful, one of those evil girly drinks that\u2019ll put you on the floor in two sips.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Even more delighted, she said, \u201cYes!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd so as a reward for my insight, have one with me tonight? Dinner? \u2019Bout seven? Remember, I turn into a pumpkin at nine so playtime would have to wait until the weekend if you\u2019d like to allow me to reward you for <em>your<\/em> insight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled, because even though he was so <em>awful<\/em>, he was so <em>cute<\/em> about it. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich one?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She slid him a look. \u201cDinner, yes. Playtime depends on how well you grovel the rest of the week.\u201d He grinned like he\u2019d just conquered the world, and she laughed. \u201cSimon turned Mary loose yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack grunted. \u201cHurricane Mary, you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia blinked and looked at him.<\/p>\n<p>He returned her look with a raised eyebrow and said, \u201c<em>You<\/em> aren\u2019t the only one with a savior complex around here. I was up there Saturday and yesterday, too. Just missed you. Mary whined enough to get on Simon\u2019s nerves. And she had a patient, so I didn\u2019t stay long.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That shocked the hell out of her. \u201cOh. Uh&nbsp;\u2026 Sebastian told me you had a cold black heart.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have no heart at all,\u201d he said snidely. \u201cOr a soul. That\u2019s why you can\u2019t voodoo me. No soul, nothing to suck out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat would explain why there\u2019s no blood test for my idiopathic physiological anomaly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm. My soullessness is also why I\u2019m the alpha of Wall Street.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA soulless alpha who wants to sleep with a cute little piano teacher who sucks men\u2019s souls out through their eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked her up and down. \u201cI\u2019d rather you suck something else out of me from somewhere else. Your mouth is <em>gorgeous<\/em>. You were <em>made<\/em> to suck cock. <em>Mine<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She tsk\u2019d. \u201cYou have to give <em>me<\/em> a blow job first. To <em>my<\/em> satisfaction, which may not happen before your jaw falls off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI,\u201d he said haughtily, \u201cam a magnificent eater-outer. My jaw is well toned.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWould any of your cheap blowup dolls actually tell you you suck? Or not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat hurts my feelings.\u201d He leaned against her and purred, \u201cI\u2019ll let you teach me how to suck your microdick this weekend. Tongue it. Lick it. Tie you up first. With my silk tie. Blindfold you. Make you beg and scream <em>all<\/em> the way into Sunday night.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAt nine. Are you going to fall asleep with your head between my legs?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf there is a God in heaven.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Try as she might, Lydia could not come up with a response to that and he gave her a cocky grin. Any normal woman would slap him, but this was the sort of banter that turned her on if the man himself already intrigued her and she was <em>very<\/em> turned on. She <em>tried<\/em> not to snicker, but couldn\u2019t stop it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cKiss me,\u201d he whispered smugly. \u201cYou know you want to.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That, like everything else about him, was irresistible. She turned her head\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, you\u2019re disgusting.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They both jumped, and looked at the woman in front of them, overlapping Jack\u2019s left side, glaring at him. His expression darkened. \u201cBrenda.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was about the same age as Lydia, prettier, with curly black hair and dressed in serviceable business attire. This was <em>not<\/em> one of Jack\u2019s blowup dolls.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBrenda here,\u201d Jack said nastily, \u201cthought she could get away with stealing from her firm. I blew the whistle as soon as one of my traders brought it to my attention. Followed the paper trail, built the case, had her arrested, and testified against her. Seven years, only four of which have gone by. Did you get out on parole or did <em>you<\/em> have to munch a few carpets?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Brenda snarled at him.<\/p>\n<p>He looked her up and down. \u201cSo what are you doing now? Data entry? That suit\u2019s a long way from Bergdorf. You still married? How\u2019re your kids? They\u2019re probably in college by now, right? Student loans? Because you can\u2019t skim?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou destroyed my life,\u201d she hissed. \u201cI could kill you for that, and the only reason I don\u2019t shove you in front of a train is because there are witnesses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>I<\/em> didn\u2019t decide to steal somebody else\u2019s money. You deserved whatever you got, and if you\u2019re still blaming <em>me<\/em>, you didn\u2019t get enough of it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid any of that affect you personally?\u201d Lydia asked him, genuinely curious. \u201cShe didn\u2019t work for you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked at her in shock. \u201cNo. Why would it have to? She was skimming and manipulating the market to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou just <em>couldn\u2019t<\/em> mind your own business, could you?\u201d the woman barked.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s lips pursed. Jack was furious, and it was a completely different side of him she wouldn\u2019t have thought he possessed if she\u2019d thought about it at all. He wasn\u2019t pissed off that Brenda had stolen from <em>him<\/em>. He was pissed off that she\u2019d stolen <em>at all<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>That was interesting.<\/p>\n<p>Because it meant any actual <em>relationship<\/em> that could have been between them would end in a conversation like this, so it was good there wasn\u2019t going to be a relationship. But before she could think about that any more deeply, she heard,<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi, Jack! Hi, Lydia!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They both turned at the small voices that came from the small people plunging through the crowd. Lydia\u2019s mouth tightened. \u201cSimon told you not to go below Eighty-fifth and you\u2019re on Wall Street?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mary huffed and folded her arms across her chest. \u201cSimon\u2019s not the boss of me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe is when you need a place to sleep and eat and get medicine,\u201d Lydia shot back. \u201cWhy can\u2019t you just do what she asks you to do?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI let her,\u201d Jesus said quietly, from where he stood behind Mary.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s eyebrow rose. \u201c<em>Let<\/em> her? You mean you couldn\u2019t <em>stop<\/em> her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jesus shook his head soberly. \u201cNo. She does what I say.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia and Jack exchanged glances.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen tell her to stay at Simon\u2019s,\u201d Lydia said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf I don\u2019t want to, why should I make her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBecause she\u2019s been sick and you haven\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s the puppy-dog eyes,\u201d Jack said out of the side of his mouth.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia puffed a laugh. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you make her go to Simon when she got sick, then?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jesus scowled. \u201cI didn\u2019t know she was sick for a while, and then when I did, we were too far away to get there fast, which was why we needed money, to get a cab to get there. Fast.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Well, now didn\u2019t that make her feel stupid, especially when Jack started laughing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh. You\u2019re welcome.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The boy continued to scowl at her.<\/p>\n<p>There was a small ruckus behind them, cops who were looking for two kids who\u2019d jumped the stiles who were, apparently serial stile-jumpers.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia gave the kids a stony look.<\/p>\n<p>They both flushed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStay close. And stop it. I\u2019ll buy you MetroCards. And you better not sell them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, aren\u2019t you a born mother,\u201d Jack muttered, turning toward the train tracks, ignoring Brenda. Brenda was ignoring them too. \u201cA <em>mean<\/em> one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia merely sniffed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey,\u201d he said softly.<\/p>\n<p>She looked at him and he leaned in again. She smiled against his lips and opened her mouth a little. Not much. Teasing him. Watching him tease her. Trying to kiss around their amusement.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>I knew it!<\/em>\u201d Mary crowed.<\/p>\n<p>Jack laughed and turned his head to cast the child an exasperated smile. \u201cYou haven\u2019t been conscious long enough to know anything, little girl.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But she giggled and even Jesus seemed smugly pleased, as if he had been the matchmaker.<\/p>\n<p>Aw, screw it.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia liked him. He couldn\u2019t see the thing her eyes did and he made her laugh. He wasn\u2019t a braggart in the usual sense, he was straightforward and self-deprecating about his weaknesses, he hung out with his parents for God\u2019s sake, and he thought her little digs were cute. He seemed genuinely interested in how her mind worked, enjoyed her company enough to keep trying, remembered what she told him, and was professionally impressed without feeling threatened, because he wasn\u2019t a musician. She\u2019d never been approached by or gone out with a man who wasn\u2019t a musician or one who was as interested in her as he was himself\u2014and men got very annoying very quickly when they started feeling professionally threatened.<\/p>\n<p>Yes, Jack had a code of honor when it came to money and her financial purity wasn\u2019t to his standard, but he treated women like shit. Lydia and Jack were attracted to each other, they liked talking to each other, they had shared a bizarre adventure, and he\u2019d at least tried to make up for her botched audition, no matter how awry it had gone. He wanted to try again in spite of everything, including his grumpiness about it, which she found charming in itself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow \u2019bout it?\u201d he whispered in her ear, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her as close as possible. \u201cDinner, lunch, movies, <em>Show Boat<\/em>, chocolate, piano shopping, lemon drops and Old Fashioneds all week, then a fun weekend at my place. We can play tennis and watch <em>Traders<\/em> and talk about things smart people talk about while we\u2019re making love by candlelight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She caught a little gasp and smiled when he nibbled on her earlobe, thinking about how he\u2019d look and feel naked, against her, in her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll stay in New York this week,\u201d she whispered back, \u201cbut you have to earn the weekend. You\u2019ve used up all your do-overs and then some.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cChallenge accepted.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The wind whipped through the tunnel and blew everyone\u2019s hair back. There was a wall of people in front of them and a whole lot of people behind them. He let her go when a bunch of people shifted to the right.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi, Jack,\u201d came a purr from behind and to Jack\u2019s left. They both looked over their shoulders. There stood a leggy\u2014oh, brunette this time. Lydia was shocked. The woman was wearing a generically fashionable business suit, had a generically fashionable haircut, and had a generically beautiful face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHi, Val,\u201d Jack muttered.<\/p>\n<p>She pointed to Lydia and gave her a generically friendly smile. \u201cGirlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFriend of a friend.\u201d Jack returned impatiently.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, <em>friends<\/em>. That explains the kiss. I get it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He heaved a sigh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIsn\u2019t he shit in bed?\u201d the woman asked Lydia.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI wouldn\u2019t know,\u201d Lydia replied gamely. \u201c<em>I<\/em> don\u2019t sleep with dickheads.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That took her aback. Jack snorted. Brenda muttered, \u201cYet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The wall of people in front of them parted a little in anticipation of the train that was almost there, just enough for Lydia and the kids to step forward. She slipped her arm through Jack\u2019s and pulled him toward her and back a little, hoping the crowd would flow between him and the <em>third<\/em> ex-lover to show up while she was with him, although he and his nemesis were still pressed together a little.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you they follow you everywhere you go?\u201d Lydia muttered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot until you showed up,\u201d he replied caustically. He turned to Val who had found the same hole in the people wall, and now was standing right beside him. \u201cWhat do you want, Val?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis,\u201d she said sweetly, and shoved.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia still had Jack\u2019s elbow, so the shove took her, too, but she was a little behind him and she planted her feet instinctively, pulling backward so he wouldn\u2019t go over the platform into the nose of the train.<\/p>\n<p>Brenda&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>\u2026 whom he stumbled against&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>did.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">8: SLIPSTREAM<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">SCREAMS ERUPTED. Lydia stood dazed, the train wall flashing past a foot from her face. Jack\u2019s face was half that distance and he wasn\u2019t moving at all.<\/p>\n<p>Screams.<\/p>\n<p>More screams.<\/p>\n<p>She couldn\u2019t move, couldn\u2019t distinguish anything, just&nbsp;\u2026 the crack between the train and the concrete, and Jack\u2019s hand splayed on it about six inches from the train. Somewhere under there was a woman who\u2019d <em>just<\/em> threatened to push Jack off, but had ended up there herself by some weird quirk of fate.<\/p>\n<p>There wasn\u2019t even any blood, nothing to mark her death except the screech of brakes, the screams of a few people around them who\u2019d seen&nbsp;\u2026 something. Something awful.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was supposed to be dead right now. Lydia would be too.<\/p>\n<p>She barely felt a tug on her right hand until her still-sore knuckles were squeezed. Hard. \u201cOw!\u201d she screeched and looked down. There, a little Hispanic girl and her older brother, speaking to her as if from far away, their arms waving wildly, and the little girl tugging on her. She had an amazing grip for such a little thing.<\/p>\n<p><em>Run. Run. You have to run.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>The words came at her like in a dream, or in water. Slow. Muffled. It barely registered that they were speaking Spanish.<\/p>\n<p>She stumbled backward when she was jerked, and her other shoulder protested when it resisted because her arm was still in Jack\u2019s.<\/p>\n<p><em>Lydia! Run! Make Jack run!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Run. From what? They hadn\u2019t done anything. That&nbsp;\u2026 <em>person<\/em>&nbsp;\u2026 had shoved Jack, intending him to go over the ledge and into the train.<\/p>\n<p>The screams around them grew slowly more distinct until she realized they were all looking&nbsp;\u2026 at&nbsp;\u2026 her.<\/p>\n<p>And Jack.<\/p>\n<p><em>That\u2019s him! Don\u2019t let him get away!<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Run! Run!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>The children were tugging at both of them. The little girl on Lydia. The little boy dragging Jack back from the yellow line. They were small. Should they be that strong?<\/p>\n<p>Then she snapped to. \u201cOh, God,\u201d she whispered as she looked around. She knew it would look bad, running. She knew the cameras would have caught the whole incident. She knew he\u2019d been pushed and thus had fallen against the woman in front of him. Yes, there was a lot of bad blood between him and Brenda, and though there were several witnesses to the argument, that didn\u2019t mean <em>everybody<\/em> had heard it or would draw the right conclusions even if they had.<\/p>\n<p><em>Somebody grab him! Don\u2019t let him get away!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He was dark. In work clothes. On Wall Street. At rush hour.<\/p>\n<p>A white woman was dead.<\/p>\n<p>People were pointing at him.<\/p>\n<p><em>Lydia! Jack! You have to run! The cops are coming!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>And he didn\u2019t know how to keep his mouth shut. He was not going to get to an arraignment without getting his butt kicked by the cops.<\/p>\n<p><em>COME\u2014ON!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Or worse.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia tugged on Jack, but he was on his knees, his nose still inches from the train. He still wasn\u2019t moving. He was barely breathing. She pulled on his arm. He didn\u2019t budge. She pulled harder. He still didn\u2019t budge. She grabbed his hair. \u201cGet up,\u201d she snarled and pulled until he started fighting her, turning himself over, trying to rush her. She let go of his hair and dragged him into the crowd behind them, who hadn\u2019t seen what happened. They just knew someone had taken a header into an oncoming subway train.<\/p>\n<p>The children were leading the way, running at breakneck speed, but Lydia couldn\u2019t hope to keep up. Her legs were too short and too slow. She was half dragging a traumatized bond trader who\u2019d just witnessed himself pushing a woman into a train, the train that should\u2019ve killed <em>him<\/em> and taken Lydia with him. There were no cops after them <em>yet<\/em> because the crowd was too thick and there was too much confusion, the front car of the train halfway into the tunnel.<\/p>\n<p>But it wouldn\u2019t be long before the mounted patrol would be\u2014<\/p>\n<p>Metal was striking asphalt and concrete.<\/p>\n<p>Lots of it.<\/p>\n<p>Rhythmically.<\/p>\n<p>Getting closer.<\/p>\n<p>Horseshoes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, God,\u201d she whispered, her father\u2019s ME report flashing through her brain. Jack <em>might<\/em> be cleared before his arraignment, but not before some overenthusiastic cops got their hands on him.<\/p>\n<p>She stopped cold and let Jack bump into her. She slapped his face. Slapped hard. Until he focused enough to get mad. \u201cJack!\u201d she snapped when she had his full fury directed at her. \u201cYou are in a lot of trouble. You have to run. Please, <em>please<\/em>\u2014 Run.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo!\u201d Mary screamed, pointing to an alley. \u201cGo there! Hide!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia did as she was told, dragging a marginally less catatonic Jack, even though the children took off in the other direction.<\/p>\n<p>Once he got his feet, he seemed sentient enough to follow her. The horses were gaining ground and shouts could be heard above the regular noise of the city.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere!\u201d somebody yelled. \u201cCatch that kid!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia made the alley entrance and jerked Jack behind a Dumpster just as half the horses turned and half went past the alley entrance at full gallop.<\/p>\n<p>They were after the children.<\/p>\n<p>She had a momentary clutch of fear for them, but they were kids, they were wily, and they were smart. They\u2019d been living on the streets for God only knew how long, stealing and running messages up and down Manhattan.<\/p>\n<p>They had also been smart and quick enough to get two not-thinking <em>adults<\/em> off the platform.<\/p>\n<p>Instincts first.<\/p>\n<p>Shock indulgence second.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was stiff. Silent. Catatonic, yes. She was thirsty as hell. She wanted to puke. They had to get somewhere to hide, but now that she was thinking, she knew she couldn\u2019t go back to Sebastian\u2019s and the police would know Jack\u2019s name soon enough. His place would be locked down and his accounts frozen immediately.<\/p>\n<p>They <em>wouldn\u2019t<\/em> know who Lydia or the children were.<\/p>\n<p>Where were the cameras pointed? Would they see the push? Could camera evidence trump eyewitness accounts of the heated argument? Would there have been any witnesses to the exchange between Val and Lydia? Would there be anything that could get past the wall of Jack\u2019s appearance before he could be cleared of suspicion?<\/p>\n<p>She needed her bike. There was no way they could get&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>Simon\u2019s. Simon was the hub of Spanish Harlem\u2019s underground. She would know how to hide them until Lydia could make a plan. Her apartment door was well camouflaged. Her exam room could be hidden with the close of a door that looked like a wall with a crazed mirror and broken-down dresser. Lydia was absolutely certain that apartment and likely the rest of the building was lousy with secret rooms and passageways.<\/p>\n<p>But they were downtown and Simon was a hundred blocks north. They couldn\u2019t take the subway. Couldn\u2019t take the bus. Couldn\u2019t take a cab. Couldn\u2019t walk out in the open. Didn\u2019t have a change of clothes, and they were covered in&nbsp;\u2026 something black and gooey.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, God,\u201d she moaned again, dropping her face in her hand and rubbing her forehead. \u201cThink,\u201d she whispered. \u201cThink, think, think. Help me, Daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Just keep doing what you\u2019re doing and for God\u2019s sake, don\u2019t let him talk.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Her bike. She could get through traffic, go over land, and outrun horses. She didn\u2019t know Manhattan as well as a motorcycle cop would, but she\u2019d have a head start because they <em>wouldn\u2019t<\/em> be expecting to have to chase a Harley. She could also get off the island if she had to because they wouldn\u2019t have time to put down spike strips across every tunnel and every bridge.<\/p>\n<p>But <em>how<\/em> could she get it? It was parked in Sebastian\u2019s parking lot\u2014<\/p>\n<p>She had to get to a phone. Call Sebastian. He knew how to ride. He could meet her somewhere.<\/p>\n<p>Phone.<\/p>\n<p>Phone.<\/p>\n<p>Water.<\/p>\n<p>God, water. She was so thirsty.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d he croaked.<\/p>\n<p>She started and twisted to look at him, leaning back against the wall, looking to the sky, his chest heavy.<\/p>\n<p><em>DAISY?!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat did I just do?\u201d he croaked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou just about got murdered,\u201d she snapped.<\/p>\n<p><em>Daisy! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Lydia gritted her teeth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou were pushed. You put your dick in the wrong hole and about got killed for it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cKarma,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, well, if this is karma, it\u2019s being unreasonable. Look,\u201d she said frantically. \u201cI have to get to a phone. You <em>have<\/em> to stay here. Covered. Hidden. If you\u2019re gone when I get back, I\u2019ll assume you got arrested.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut&nbsp;\u2026 if I didn\u2019t push her&nbsp;\u2026 if it was an accident, I should just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d she barked. \u201cYou won\u2019t live long enough to get to a lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He wrinkled his brow at her. \u201cWhy?\u201d he asked, dazed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, <em>dying<\/em> might be an exaggeration. But you just\u2014 We need to wait this out until they look at the evidence, get all the witnesses\u2019 statements. They\u2019ll have cameras on the platform and in the train cab, but you did have an argument with her. And I doubt you know why staying silent is a <em>right<\/em>. We have to hide and wait until they sort it all out so you don\u2019t get yourself beaten half to death by some cops.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy name is Lydia,\u201d she snapped.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt doesn\u2019t suit you,\u201d he said vaguely, still staring up into the sky.<\/p>\n<p><em>He\u2019s right, you know.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot now, Mingo,\u201d she gritted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d Jack whispered. \u201cDaisy Dukes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was punch drunk. In shock. It was pointless to argue with him no matter how much she hated that name.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d she said with forced calm, stroking his forehead, his cheek. \u201cLook at me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He did. Straight into her eyes. The <em>one<\/em> time she <em>needed<\/em> a man to succumb to her sparkly eyes, he couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPlease. Stay here. Get under these whatever they are and hide. Do you understand me?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe didn\u2019t deserve to <em>die<\/em>. But I\u2014 Did <em>I<\/em> kill her? I killed her. I just\u2014 She went over because I\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>No!<\/em> God, Jack, that is <em>exactly<\/em> the crap they\u2019ll make you say. You did <em>not<\/em> kill her. That Val person killed her. She was trying to kill <em>you<\/em> and somebody got in the way. Promise me,\u201d she said frantically, standing, finding the whatever it was under her feet to be filthy rags. Gross.<\/p>\n<p>She picked some up, grimaced, and started rubbing at her clothes. It was March. It was chilly. She shouldn\u2019t be in shorts and she looked like a tourist. \u201cThe children know where we are,\u201d she said as she blotted, her chest heaving, her breath short. \u201cIf they come back and I\u2019m not here yet, tell them <em>I said<\/em> for <em>you<\/em> to stay put. You\u2019re bigger than they are so don\u2019t let them push you around. They\u2019re going to do what they\u2019re going to do no matter what I say.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Thank God.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">9: NOT GOOD, NOT NICE, JUST <em>RIGHT<\/em><\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">SHIT, WHAT WAS that noise? It wasn\u2019t normal Manhattan noise.<\/p>\n<p>Shit, Jack had the <em>worst<\/em> headache. Had he drunk too much last night? No, not possible. He couldn\u2019t function without sleep and he couldn\u2019t sleep if he drank too much and he couldn\u2019t hold his alcohol worth a damn.<\/p>\n<p>Shit, that <em>noise<\/em> was getting closer and it was going to kill him. He groaned when it got close enough he imagined he could feel heat from it. It was deafening, echoing off the walls like that.<\/p>\n<p>It died.<\/p>\n<p>The ringing in his ears was almost as bad.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He knew that voice. He didn\u2019t know from where. He groaned. He didn\u2019t want to get up, didn\u2019t want to get out of his nice, comfortable bed that\u2014 God, it reeked. What had he been <em>doing?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>His eyes fluttered open to see that cute little librarian Sebastian had introduced him to. What was her name again? \u201cHey, Daisy,\u201d he slurred. \u201cWhat are you doing here? Did we fuck?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy name is not Daisy,\u201d she snapped. \u201cAnd no, we didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Until he could remember her name, she was Daisy and until he could remember that he <em>hadn\u2019t<\/em> fucked her, he would assume he had.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt was really good, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot for me,\u201d she snapped again. She was very snappy for a woman who\u2019d just gotten very well laid. \u201cI need you to get up and get un-dizzy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Un-dizzy. That was clever. It was exactly what he needed to do.<\/p>\n<p>He felt her pulling on his arm, pulling him upright. He groaned and clutched his head. \u201cOh, my God,\u201d he groaned, closing his eyes because the light hurt.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, exactly.\u201d She plopped her cute little butt down beside him. He could see it in his mind. She stayed there with him for a while, silent. Holding his hand. She was trembling. Then he noticed her body was shaking. He opened one eye to see her with her knees drawn up, her face buried in them, and her shoulders quaking.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy are you crying?\u201d he asked in wonder. \u201cWas I that bad?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t answer. Didn\u2019t seem to hear him.<\/p>\n<p>He looked around. He was in a very narrow alley, dark, mysterious. Filthy and rank. There was a shiny ivory motorcycle in front of him that proudly proclaimed itself to be a Harley-Davidson. It had lettering and thin red lines on the outer edges that made it look like it came out of a 1950s diner.<\/p>\n<p>He looked down at himself, dressed in the clothes he wore to do chores around his parents\u2019 house.<\/p>\n<p>This was a dream, right?<\/p>\n<p>Bond traders didn\u2019t just wake up in back alleys, sitting on\u2014 He looked down. \u2014yards and yards of nasty, filthy fabric, dressed in their worst clothes, next to weeping women who were not leggy blondes, with Harley-Davidsons a foot from their faces.<\/p>\n<p><em>Especially<\/em> on a weekday.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, God,\u201d he whispered as it all came back. The jolt of fear as he fell toward the oncoming train, but in twisting to keep himself from going over the edge had knocked someone else off the platform.<\/p>\n<p>A someone else he <em>despised<\/em>, but who did not deserve to die.<\/p>\n<p>No wonder Daisy was sobbing.<\/p>\n<p>But&nbsp;\u2026 how did he get here?<\/p>\n<p>No, that part was still a mystery. The last thing he remembered was the look of terror on Brenda\u2019s face and then&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>Thump.<\/p>\n<p>It sounded just like that. Thump. And not even that loudly. A funny little word rendered in funny ways in Saturday morning cartoons.<\/p>\n<p>Thump.<\/p>\n<p>He swallowed.<\/p>\n<p>Hard.<\/p>\n<p>No blood. No body parts.<\/p>\n<p><em>Thump<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>He was thirsty. So thirsty.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d he whispered. \u201cI need to go to the police.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d she screeched. \u201cRight now, that is the <em>worst<\/em> place to be.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made no sense. \u201cWhy? They\u2019ll know it was an accident, right? It <em>was<\/em> an accident, right? I think? Or&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt was,\u201d she said through her crying. \u201cBut that won\u2019t help you between the time you\u2019re arrested and whenever you\u2019re cleared and released.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut\u2014 The cops don\u2019t have anything against me. What reason would they have to beat me down?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou are a dark man in torn-up clothes who appears to have pushed a white woman with whom you <em>just<\/em> had a heated argument, wherein she threatened to push <em>you<\/em> in front of a train, in front of a train.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The heated argument, he understood, but\u2014<\/p>\n<p>A dark man.<\/p>\n<p>Torn-up clothes.<\/p>\n<p>Oh, yes. Now he understood that too.<\/p>\n<p>Sort of.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut&nbsp;\u2026 I\u2019m a Wall Street stud,\u201d he said, feeling a little dazed and confused. \u201cI don\u2019t\u2014 I\u2019m rich. I\u2019m a CEO. I\u2019m not just some random immigrant walking around.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>You are too!<\/em> The ma\u00eetre d\u2019. The guy at the chocolate shop. You might not have had any problems getting a cab or had any issues with police, but <em>now<\/em> you do and <em>now<\/em> you\u2019re in crappy clothes so you don\u2019t even look rich and <em>now<\/em> you\u2019re going to find out how the brown half lives.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Yeah, okay, he got the cold shoulder sometimes. When he was a kid in a passing-for-white family in a thoroughly white neighborhood, people said things with varying degrees of innocent curiosity to hatefulness, but he had important shit to do so he didn\u2019t pay attention until it got in his way.<\/p>\n<p>His paternal grandfather J.R. hated Jack because his dad had married an Indian girl and turned out such a dark-skinned child. But J.R. lived in England and when Jack had made his contempt known in a satisfactory way, he was done. He had important shit to do.<\/p>\n<p>His maternal grandfather Amarjeet, who was as much an asshole as J.R., didn\u2019t like Jack because he hated that his daughter had married a white man. He made the mistake of assuming Jack was as stupid as every other white man he\u2019d ever met. But Amarjeet lived in India and trouncing him soundly in chess several times in a row was satisfactory. Jack had important shit to do.<\/p>\n<p>It had bummed him out every time he asked a girl out and her parents forbid it because he was dark, but it hadn\u2019t happened often and since it didn\u2019t affect his goals or his path to them, he dealt with it. He had important shit to do.<\/p>\n<p>If he had had problems getting a cab, he wouldn\u2019t have thought about <em>why<\/em> while he was cursing a blue streak. He had important shit to do.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s <em>blond<\/em> younger brother had gotten arrested for a DUI as a teenager. His light-skinned youngest brother, who looked only vaguely Indian, had been arrested for petit theft, the result of a teenage dare. Jack\u2019s father had a lead foot and the tickets to prove it. <em>Jack\u2019s<\/em> only interaction with the police was when he called them to haul out a boss or coworker or employee in handcuffs on fraud charges. That had happened more than a few times. It was also how his name got on a building on Wall Street. He didn\u2019t have so much as a parking ticket. Dealing with petty red tape like that took time and energy he didn\u2019t have. He had important shit to do.<\/p>\n<p>He\u2019d never had a problem with his academics, never had a problem in his sports, never had a problem buying his apartment or car, never had a problem getting a job. That was what racism was about, right?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Now he dated women who found his looks a bonus to his bank account, and he was partial to gorgeous leggy blondes who weren\u2019t shy about showing him off. He didn\u2019t mind redheads sometimes. Occasionally he dated brunettes, but clearly, that brunette had been a bad choice. He immediately swore off brunettes. But what had he done to her that she would kill him? Maybe she was just psycho. Maybe that was why he\u2019d broken up with her. He didn\u2019t remember.<\/p>\n<p>He was with a little white piano teacher from fucking <em>Kansas<\/em>. How could <em>anybody<\/em> mistake him for anything other than what he really was? And how could <em>any<\/em> of that penny-ante shit be parlayed into this pathological paranoia of the police not being fair and impartial because of his skin color, for God\u2019s sake?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d he said calmly, trying to explain this to her. \u201cMa\u00eetre d\u2019s and random assholes aside, it doesn\u2019t work that way for me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>You are not special!<\/em>\u201d she hissed. \u201cThey will eventually figure out who you are, but until then you\u2019re just a random Latino thug who killed a white woman after arguing with her. And then, when they do find out, you\u2019ll be a rich, arrogant, greedy Wall Street thief who had a personal vendetta, and deserves what he gets and by the way, let\u2019s seize his assets. Even if he didn\u2019t kill her, he\u2019s probably driven people to suicide.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, of course I have,\u201d he said as if she were thick. \u201cI don\u2019t put up with thieves and cheats, and if they can\u2019t take the heat when I call the cops, that\u2019s on them. But <em>I<\/em> am scrupulously honest. Everybody knows this. Also, I am obviously Indian. Your eyesight is shit.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She moved\u2014quickly\u2014until she was straddling him and had his chin in a painful grip. \u201cLet\u2019s say you\u2019re right,\u201d she growled. \u201cBut if you stay with me, you won\u2019t be in an interview room or holding cell while they get all this figured out, <em>without<\/em> poking at you to get you to say something incriminating. The <em>worst<\/em> that will happen is you\u2019ll get your hand smacked for running from the scene of a crime. That might or might not be a felony, I don\u2019t know, but it\u2019s not going to ruin your life. Your financial integrity isn\u2019t going to help you. Also, you look almost exactly like my grandmother\u2019s dead boyfriend, who was Cuban.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He jerked his face out of her hand and calculated the odds. Not taking into account all that bullshit she spewed about what he looked like (an old dead Cuban, for God\u2019s sake) and how cops could be expected to treat him because of it and what he did for a living, if she was <em>right<\/em> about being taken in, he\u2019d be booked, jailed, arraigned, and let out on bond. His assets might or might not be frozen. If he did what Daisy wanted, he <em>might<\/em> be booked <em>after<\/em> it was all over with for being a pain in the ass, pay a fine, and go on with his life even if he had to sue to have his assets unfrozen.<\/p>\n<p>The board of directors and shareholders and stock price were the sticking point. He explained this.<\/p>\n<p>That made her pause. She sat back on her heels\u2014she was still straddling him\u2014and looked up, running her tongue on the inside of her bottom lip, thinking out loud.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re arrested for murder. You\u2019re charged. You\u2019re cleared. How long do you think that would take?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 a couple of weeks?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat depends on if they think they can get you on it, which they do and they would, just to say they got justice, in which case, you would be offered a plea, which you would refuse, which means it would go to trial. It will take months.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have a very poor opinion of the police, but I\u2019ll go with it for now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you\u2019re a fugitive, you\u2019ll be assumed to have done it on purpose\u2014well, you already are\u2014but it will take them, at most, a week to figure out you <em>didn\u2019t<\/em>\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd who did, and why,\u201d he offered helpfully.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s irrelevant. The goal is to keep you hidden until we know that <em>they<\/em> know you didn\u2019t do it on purpose. The goal is to get you off without getting you beat up between now and your arraignment.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was an idiot if she thought that would happen. \u201c<em>My<\/em> goal is to get <em>you<\/em> off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She ignored that. \u201cAnd your board and shareholders might actually get why you did that, and that it <em>might<\/em> have been the smart tactical move. Two weeks. Your stock price tanks. Your board\u2019s about to fire you and change the name on the building. Your shareholders are out for your blood. They can\u2019t do <em>anything<\/em> in two weeks, especially if Melinda steps up and takes the reins. By the time it\u2019s over, they\u2019ll look incompetent and disloyal for not backing you publicly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>At which point he could legitimately get rid of them and build a new board, which plan he, Sebastian, Melinda, and Bucho were already setting up. Slowly. Carefully. If Daisy was right, people would expect him to clear out his board.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut\u2014 Running looks so&nbsp;\u2026 cowardly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She looked at him like he was stupid. \u201cAnd you think doing the perp walk looks <em>cool?<\/em> You\u2019re a <em>CEO<\/em>. For <em>you<\/em>, once that becomes public, running is a big middle finger to the cops. Standing around waiting for the justice system to do right by you while you\u2019re in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs makes you look like an ignorant pussy. <em>I<\/em> wouldn\u2019t trust you with my money if I saw you doing the perp walk. I would think, \u2018What, he wasn\u2019t smart enough to take off and lie low for a while? How na\u00efve can that guy be?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack thought about that very carefully because that was, indeed, a problem. He\u2019d had the same reaction every time he saw footage of a Big Swinging Dick getting marched out of a building in an expensive suit, in handcuffs, with his head down: <em>Pussies<\/em>. <em>I wouldn\u2019t let myself get taken like that, even if I had done it.<\/em> Even if people were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, he\u2019d still have the perp walk footage and newspaper images following him around for the rest of his life.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRunning also makes me look <em>guilty<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you head for the Caymans, yes. But if you stay in town, people won\u2019t know what to think.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was probably true. And if he popped up to cooperate the second his innocence was\u2014 God, was he really buying this bullshit?<\/p>\n<p>If he disappeared, he could return on his terms. It wouldn\u2019t look much better, but without reporters and images, and with the rationale explained, a PR team could spin his image much better than they could spin a perp walk. He was a salesman and he knew human nature: People would remember him longer if they had perp walk images stuck in their heads, which meant they would consider him guilty no matter the outcome. If people only had images of Jack being pushed in front of a train, they would remember him as a target of murder\u2014and people\u2019s opinions on whether he deserved to die or not would work in his favor. <em>Blackwood, Blackwood&nbsp;\u2026 Wasn\u2019t he involved in\u2014 No, I don\u2019t remember. Something&nbsp;\u2026 Oh, right. He got shoved into an oncoming train. Too bad he lived to tell about it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>It was bullshit. It was all bullshit. But he might as well err on the side of strategically advantageous public relations.<\/p>\n<p>She leaned forward and got in his face, startling him. \u201cEven if you don\u2019t want to do this for yourself,\u201d she whispered harshly, \u201cdo it for me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He scowled immediately. \u201cWhy do you care?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her mouth flattened. \u201cI care because I know what happened. I care because you almost got murdered. I care because <em>I<\/em> almost got murdered. I care because that woman who died, that family needs to know it can\u2019t honestly blame you. I care because my dad was raped and killed by cops during a traffic stop!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack drew back so fast he bashed his head on the wall, his eyes wide, his mouth open.<\/p>\n<p><em>He was from Cuba.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t want to go through this again! Get your head together so you can ride. Hold on tight and lean into the turns.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">10: SPLITTING LANES<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">TO LYDIA\u2019S SURPRISE, nobody looked twice at them. Rather, nobody with a badge looked twice at them. They were filthy, on a bike with filth-smeared tags, a bike that might or might not be expensive because it was filthy too, and she didn\u2019t drive in a way that would catch anyone\u2019s attention. She didn\u2019t know the helmet laws here, so she made Jack wear the helmet and she braided her hair as tightly as she could. It\u2019d be loose in two seconds flat, but she tried anyway.<\/p>\n<p>Jack, however, was a problem.<\/p>\n<p>She stopped a quarter of the way up Third Avenue and turned. \u201cIf you lean against a turn, you will cause the back of the bike to slide out from under us. Lean <em>into<\/em> the turn <em>with<\/em> me. If you remember <em>anything<\/em> about the laws of physics, drag them out of your lizard brain and follow them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jesus and Mary were pacing Simon\u2019s apartment when Lydia and Jack arrived. With one gesture from Simon, Jesus dragged Lydia out and showed her where to park her bike, which was in a storage facility two blocks over and six blocks up that was packed with really nice furniture. It took the two of them most of the afternoon to clear out enough space and pack it all back in again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re a better passenger than Jack,\u201d she said stonily, almost to herself.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t say anything as they began walking back, keeping to the shadows. She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him to her. He melted against her and hugged her, tucking his face in her ribs and taking ragged breaths. Because he was frightened or relieved or&nbsp;\u2026 She didn\u2019t know. She sat down on the sidewalk, her back to the wall, and had him sit beside her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTalk to me,\u201d she said in Spanish.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t. Not at first. And then not much. But in Spanish. He was afraid for Jack. He didn\u2019t want to lose them. He liked them, liked the way they talked and communicated, sharp. Quick. Smart. Raw. That surprised her. Jesus liked that she spoke Spanish, that she knew his lifestyle a little, that she could navigate it well enough to help them. And herself. And Jack.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy do you care about Jack?\u201d she asked quietly.<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cHe makes me think of my father.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow so?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHis looks.\u201d Her eyebrow rose. Jack probably didn\u2019t need to hear that. \u201cWhat he laughs at. That he takes care of people like it\u2019s nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was an astute thing for a kid his age.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere\u2019d you come from?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cBrooklyn. Stuff happened in my family. I ran away.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMary\u2019s not your sister?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head. \u201cI found her.\u201d He paused. \u201cShe found me. She never left.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Which, Lydia took it, meant she was both a burden to him, and a help and comfort, and he was conflicted about it. \u201cShe does what you say because you take care of her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd you let her do what she wants because she helps you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He nodded.<\/p>\n<p>Now was not the time to criticize a child\u2019s child-rearing skills, so she said nothing and they sat there, Jesus practically in her lap, clinging to her. Lydia didn\u2019t know what made her his insta-mother, but she wrapped her arms around him and petted him like Lola had petted her once upon a time. And she hummed to him as Lola had hummed to her once upon a time, the song she was <em>sooooo<\/em> sick of but, even with a head stuffed with music, was the only one she could remember at the moment.<\/p>\n<p><em>At the Copa, Copacabana&nbsp;\u2026 <\/em><\/p>\n<p>Gradually, he settled his full weight into her and began to snore. What to do, what to do. They couldn\u2019t stay out here all night; it was too cold for that and neither of them were dressed for it. He needed the sleep. He needed to be away from Mary for a while, her demands, her tantrums, her obstinacy. He needed comfort of his own, someone to take care of <em>him<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHola.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked up to see a large man looming over them. Her heart started racing immediately. The streetlamp was behind him, so he was effectively hidden.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m Piri,\u201d he said in Spanish. \u201cThe cabbie who brought you here last week.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh,\u201d she murmured, her heart settling. \u201cUm. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy boys and I have been looking for you. Simon says to get your ass back to her place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her heart settled. \u201cI, um\u2014\u201d Her voice was creaky. She cleared it. \u201cI have a lapful of exhausted boy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll carry him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With that, he bent down and took the boy from her, hefted him against his large body like a toddler lying across a father\u2019s chest, and helped Lydia up with one big heave.<\/p>\n<p>They walked together, not speaking, not rushing. Sort of alone.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat was pretty ballsy,\u201d he muttered after a while.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow does it play on TV?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnybody with eyes can see he fell and hit the lady in front of him and that you caught him before he crashed into the side wall of the train. It doesn\u2019t show he was pushed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She started. \u201cOh, you talked to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, Mary. I guess she was frantic when she got here. Scared. It took a long time to get the story out of Jesus. They\u2019ll do a lot of little things and they\u2019ve been around some bad people and bad things going down, but I don\u2019t think they\u2019ve ever seen anybody die, much less like that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia sighed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe news <em>is<\/em> playing up the fact that he had an argument with her. They\u2019re digging up his history with her. There\u2019s motive. They wonder if he staged the fall. So it sounds like he might be guilty if you\u2019re not looking at the tape. Most people just listen to the news while they do their business.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd running?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe reporters don\u2019t seem to know what to think about it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe kids got us out,\u201d she muttered. \u201cWe were in shock. I\u2019d have never thought to run in time and he wouldn\u2019t have at all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey like you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia shrugged. \u201cWe rescued them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019ve been rescued before. Lots of times. They\u2019re useful so people take care of them. Errands and such. Like tools, you know? But you rescued them without asking anything of them. No strings. No favors owed. No threats.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI guess I knew that,\u201d Lydia muttered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cManuelito and Paco\u2014the kids you worked over and fed. They\u2019ll help where they can.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey don\u2019t like me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey don\u2019t like you the way a teenager doesn\u2019t like his mom when she\u2019s laying down the law, but knows she\u2019s going to take care of him anyway.\u201d He paused. \u201cThey like being treated like kids, even if they resent it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Yes, she remembered that feeling. It had made her feel safe, even if it had made her mad.<\/p>\n<p><em>Nooooowwww you get it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cShut up,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p><em>Say it. Say the words, DAISY.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. And stop calling me Daisy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Say it or I will give you an earworm you can\u2019t get rid of for days.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou were right,\u201d she muttered. She hated it when he was right.<\/p>\n<p><em>Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re Cuban,\u201d Piri said suddenly. \u201cYour accent\u2019s fresh off the raft.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI grew up in a Cuban neighborhood.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d But she didn\u2019t want to talk about that. It hurt too much. \u201cSo Manuelito and Paco. What\u2019s their story?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTheir mom died a while back. Bad flu. Simon kept it from spreading, but she couldn\u2019t save their mom.\u201d He paused. He paused for a long time. \u201cShe was my wife. They\u2019re my sons.\u201d Her jaw dropped.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo&nbsp;\u2026 thank you. I don\u2019t know what you said to them, but they needed a mother like you that day. Every day.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They walked several blocks in silence and slipped into the labyrinth without notice. At Simon\u2019s door, the big man let Jesus slide down his body. Jesus was awake. She wondered how long he\u2019d been awake and how much he\u2019d heard.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you,\u201d she said as Jesus opened the door.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnything for you,\u201d Piri said softly as he disappeared into the shadows. \u201cAnything for you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">11: CAMP CONSPIRACY<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">JACK AWOKE FROM his doze when the twin bed he was on\u2014in a closet only big enough for one\u2014shifted. \u201cWhat the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo back to sleep,\u201d came a soft female voice in the dark.<\/p>\n<p>His eyes popped open and soon enough they adjusted to the darkness to see the silhouette of a small curvy woman taking her shoes off. \u201cWhat are you doing in here?\u201d he asked gruffly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSleeping with you,\u201d she drawled sarcastically. \u201cFour days ahead of schedule.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It was a twin bed. Furthermore, it was fairly high up on the wall to allow for camouflage and storage underneath it. Unless she intended to fuck him, he wasn\u2019t interested in sharing sleepytime in a child-sized bunk bed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t like sleeping with people,\u201d he muttered, not budging when she climbed up the ladder and tried to move him over.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAfter all that and you were going to make me do the walk of shame?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sounded hurt. \u201cNoooo,\u201d he drawled snidely. \u201cBut I have a king-sized bed. You stay on your side, I stay on mine. No spooning.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shoved him. She was really strong. \u201cRight now, your wishes and likes and wants and needs are irrelevant. Welcome to the Eeyore side of life, Tigger.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He growled and moved over, feeling her pull the covers back and settle in. By necessity, she had to snuggle up against him, so he turned on his side and let her burrow her back side into his front side. That was probably a mistake.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell your dick to go back to sleep. My microdick is not interested in making out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He snorted a laugh and slid his arm around her waist because, well, he had nowhere else to put it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI hate this,\u201d she grumbled as she shifted around, trying to get comfortable. She didn\u2019t have anywhere to put her arms, either.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou can\u2019t sleep somewhere else?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. All of Simon\u2019s space is taken, the kids are on the couch, there\u2019s no room on the floor, and if one of us has to sleep on the exam table it\u2019s going to be you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLike hell. How are the kids?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMary\u2019s calmer than she was. Mad at me because I wouldn\u2019t let her have one of the brownies I made. She said, \u2018I saved your life!\u2019 I said, \u2018And I\u2019m saving yours because if you get any more hyper I\u2019m going to kill you.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack started to laugh. He knew the situation was dire, but he\u2019d take his laughs where he could get them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI heard you reading to them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She puffed a tiny laugh. \u201cMary couldn\u2019t sit still but Jesus ate it up. He would\u2019ve loved it if I\u2019d read to him all night, but I\u2014\u201d A yawn caught her. Caught Jack too.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d he sighed.<\/p>\n<p>She sighed and either found a comfortable position or gave up trying.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cG\u2019night, Daisy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cG\u2019night, Jack.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>At which point, she turned over, buried her face in his chest, and began to sob.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">12: GALE<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">LYDIA WENT OUT the next day despite Simon\u2019s insistence she stay in. After all, all they <em>had<\/em> to do was wait out the justice system and watch the news until they knew Jack was in the clear and his assets unfrozen. But they also needed to avoid discussing it because it was too fresh, too traumatic, too&nbsp;\u2026 <em>awful<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>They needed clothes. They needed cash. They needed&nbsp;\u2026 books. Those kids couldn\u2019t read, which was likely why they were the go-to kids for messages. Lydia was scraping for any task that would allow her to <em>not think<\/em> about it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI <em>need<\/em> to know why my fucking lawyer isn\u2019t out there front and center, giving a statement!\u201d Jack bellowed.<\/p>\n<p>There was that.<\/p>\n<p>But Lydia had her own agenda, and for that, she needed to get to Sebastian. She couldn\u2019t do that in stained clothes that were now ash anyway. These old buildings still had incinerators, which was convenient in Simon\u2019s line of work. So Lydia was, once again, in scrubs.<\/p>\n<p>Jack had curled his lip at her. \u201cThat\u2019s fucking awful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHey, don\u2019t talk to Daisy like that!\u201d Mary said, pounding her little fists into her little hips and glaring up at him.<\/p>\n<p><em>Daisy<\/em> had stuck, much as she hated it. The kids liked it. Simon liked it. Jack liked it. The guy at the neighborhood bodega liked it. Manuelito and Paco liked it. Piri liked it. They all agreed <em>Lydia<\/em> did not suit her.<\/p>\n<p>But Lydia liked her name because it was part of her father\u2019s family tradition: St. Lydia, his family\u2019s patron saint. A woman unbound to a man and rich in her own right because she was a brilliant businesswoman who sold purple dye. At least one woman in every generation of each branch of his family had been named Lydia, charged with carrying on the family tradition of liberty and capitalism.<\/p>\n<p>And then came Fidel Castro.<\/p>\n<p>So far as her father had ever known, she was the last one, yet even he hadn\u2019t referred to her as Lydia except to outsiders.<\/p>\n<p><em>Charbonneau<\/em> was a mystery. Her father would never tell her why he\u2019d slapped a French surname on a girl with a Cuban family.<\/p>\n<p>Her middle name, on the other hand&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p><em>Daisy!!!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>And there he was again. She rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n<p><em>Don\u2019t fight it, doll. You are Daisy. Accept it. Embrace it. Flaunt it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Yes, Mingo certainly had flaunted who he was.<\/p>\n<p>And then died for it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou <em>knew<\/em> better,\u201d she snarled.<\/p>\n<p><em>Aw, kid, I\u2019m sorry.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd now this.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>You might have overreacted a bit.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd whose fault is that?!\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>I said I was sorry! Daisy.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Of <em>all<\/em> the flowers Jack could\u2019ve picked&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>He<\/em> said it because of what he wished I were wearing,\u201d she growled, \u201cbased on an eighties TV show about a bunch of backwoods southern rednecks, because he thinks people from Kansas are backwoods rednecks. He can\u2019t even find Kansas on a map!\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>It doesn\u2019t matter how he got there, just that he did. That man knows you.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Yes, he did.<\/p>\n<p><em>Doesn\u2019t mean he\u2019s good for you, though.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>No, he wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>She sighed and trudged on in scrubs that were so big she had to take them in, and Keds that had been scrubbed until only traces of filth were left. And she was not allowed to get her bike. She took the train to Sebastian\u2019s stop, kept her head down and tried to blend in with the businesspeople, and slipped down the ramp to the garage. The attendants recognized her as a tenant and distracted the beat cops stalking around the building until she was out of sight.<\/p>\n<p>They were going to get a <em>huge<\/em> tip.<\/p>\n<p>She called Blackwood Securities once she got up to Sebastian\u2019s apartment, but he was not taking calls and she didn\u2019t want to leave her name. \u201cYes, please tell him to call home.\u201d She had showered and changed, and was putting as much as she could in her backpack when Sebastian walked in with another man, younger than she, blond, in a gray suit with a pink tie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re Victoria\u2019s old roommate from KU?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n<p>She nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat was either the dumbest or most brilliant move I\u2019ve ever seen,\u201d he said calmly as he dropped his briefcase on a couch and took a seat.<\/p>\n<p>She blinked, shocked.<\/p>\n<p>But Sebastian was livid. \u201cYou sit your ass down right now and tell us <em>everything<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gestured to the blond. \u201cI don\u2019t know him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh. Knox Hilliard. My cousin. Jack\u2019s new lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know <em>who<\/em> he is,\u201d she said testily. \u201cWho he is <em>not<\/em> is my lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am now,\u201d he rumbled. \u201cTalk.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly tired, Lydia plopped into a cushy chair and began talking. Several times Sebastian interjected with questions or sarcastic observations, but Knox never spoke. He simply listened, which made him the more sympathetic of the two. Finally she looked at Sebastian and said, \u201cShut up. I\u2019m telling this story.\u201d Knox\u2019s mouth twitched.<\/p>\n<p>When she was finished, she expected Sebastian to start yelling at her again, but he was silent, looking off into the distance, out to the next building over. Knox said nothing for a while until: \u201cI see your logic. I can\u2019t fault it under the circumstances.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knowing his history, that didn\u2019t surprise her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you know about this woman?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing, except her name is Val and she\u2019s a brunette.\u201d Sebastian\u2019s eyebrows rose and Lydia nodded sagely. \u201cI was shocked, too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian laughed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI haven\u2019t had a chance to ask Jack. He\u2019s still really shaken up, feels like he could\u2019ve done something to keep Brenda from falling.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe tapes are explicit that he fell,\u201d Knox said calmly. \u201cThe problem is the argument he had with her, and speculation that he took the opportunity to stage the fall. They would have to prove that.\u201d He looked at Sebastian. \u201cDo you know anything about the ex?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. I don\u2019t know a fraction of his women and he purges his little black book on a regular basis. Odds are she\u2019s a stewardess running the Atlanta flights.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She stared at him, confused. \u201cAtlanta? What\u2019s in Atlanta?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWall Street South. Blackwood Securities has a huge office there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s where we start,\u201d Knox said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo they know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox shook his head. \u201cThey can see you and that you kept him from going over, but your back\u2019s to the tape.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe kids?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWitnesses remember the argument, and they only remember that because it interrupted your rather, ah, colorful banter with Jack, which included your agenda for the weekend. People were <em>really<\/em> invested in that conversation.\u201d Lydia flushed. Sebastian groaned. \u201cThey remember that you are a music professor from Kansas and he\u2019s a CEO who was running errands. They remember a conversation with children, but they don\u2019t remember <em>seeing<\/em> them. They\u2019re not on camera.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf they heard all that, then they had to have heard her threaten to shove <em>him<\/em> off the platform.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox nodded. \u201cShe\u2019s no saint, but killing isn\u2019t Jack\u2019s style. He put her in jail. He got the money back for her clients. He saved her boss\u2019s ass because he didn\u2019t catch the theft.\u201d He paused. \u201cJack does have friends, whether he knows that or not, whether he wants them or not. He seems to be carelessly generous. With his time, his money.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe doesn\u2019t notice.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe doesn\u2019t,\u201d Sebastian concurred. \u201cWhat everyone else in the world calls generous, he just sees it as getting a job done. Giving people the resources to get the job done.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHis other selling point,\u201d Knox went on, \u201cis that he has a reputation for being scrupulously honest.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack did know that, though she doubted that would make much difference to anybody.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHis assets are frozen,\u201d Knox said matter-of-factly, \u201cbut you probably expected that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t say what effect his running will have on public opinion, but the media\u2019s milking it for the drama and we may have to get through a jury selection. Hopefully it won\u2019t come to that, but I don\u2019t know how invested they are in getting <em>anyone<\/em> on the hook for her death to say they got justice, forcing the defense to prove innocence. That\u2019s caught me flat-footed before and I don\u2019t want to deal with it in court with my client looking at me. I also don\u2019t want him in my way or in my ear, telling me what to do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich he will do,\u201d Sebastian agreed. So did Lydia.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo I\u2019m not going to recommend he turn himself in, even to me, and I don\u2019t want to know where he is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was what she expected to happen, so she only nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe down side is I won\u2019t know how to get in touch with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOur kids,\u201d she muttered, looking out the window at the East River. \u201cThey\u2019re runners. If we can set up a message exchange point, they can do it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox\u2019s eyebrow rose. \u201cYou\u2019d pull kids into this?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThose kids got them off that platform,\u201d Sebastian said sharply. \u201cThey couldn\u2019t have done it themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox\u2019s mouth tightened. \u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia watched this go back and forth, her spine tingling in dread but her heart lightening a little at the demonstration that Jack <em>did<\/em> have friends, or at least allies.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAm I in trouble?\u201d Lydia asked hesitantly.<\/p>\n<p>Knox shrugged. \u201cDepends on what happens with Jack. Fleeing the scene of a crime, maybe, if we can prove Jack was pushed. A couple of other piddly things that can be cured with a fine.\u201d Knox smiled at her then. It was a nice smile. Gentle. Warm. Comforting. \u201cIt\u2019s not as bad as it feels like. Keep your heads down. I want to work without him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack\u2019s worried about the board. About Blackwood Securities not backing him, using this as an opportunity to oust him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian snorted. \u201cMelinda made her stand immediately and forced them to appoint her CEO. Bucho and I backed her up. Jack\u2019s uncle has a lot of influence around town and he dropped a threat or two in the right ears. They\u2019re about half convinced I staged this whole thing so I could take it over. Since we\u2014\u201d Here he tilted his head at Knox. \u201c\u2014helped take it over last year, and I make my living restructuring or dismantling companies\u2014\u201d Oh. She didn\u2019t know that. \u201c\u2014it\u2019s not an unreasonable assumption. One word from Jack\u2019s uncle and they\u2019ll say and do what Melinda tells them to.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox looked at her for a few seconds speculatively, then said, \u201cI\u2019m curious,\u201d he began slowly, looking at Lydia. She got a bad feeling about this. \u201cWhat\u2019s your stake in this? You don\u2019t have to do any of this. You\u2019re on camera, but you were clearly pulling him back. Yes, they can see you dragged him off the platform, but they can\u2019t identify you. You didn\u2019t get the job at Juilliard. You don\u2019t have a hotel bill to settle early to leave. You\u2019ve got your own transportation, so you don\u2019t have to worry about buying a ticket. You\u2019ve got the cash to get you home, and we can bring your stuff home with us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked away.<\/p>\n<p><em>No jokes now. You got him away from the cops so he can clean up his own mess. You don\u2019t owe him anything. He doesn\u2019t love you and I thought you were over sleeping with men who don\u2019t love you. You were doing so well! Why him?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cFirst,\u201d she began slowly, \u201cbecause I was holding onto Jack, I almost got pulled into the train too. That is terrifying, so it\u2019s not just about him. Neither one of us slept last night. I couldn\u2019t stop crying and he needed someone to hold onto, just two survivors trying to get through the night. So for better or worse, we\u2019re bonded in a way I wouldn\u2019t wish on anybody. A way I don\u2019t <em>want<\/em> to be bonded because whatever <em>could<\/em> have been there <em>isn\u2019t<\/em> there anymore and <em>won\u2019t<\/em> be there without being tarnished by this.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSecond, and I know Victoria wouldn\u2019t have told you this, but I\u2014\u201d How much to say, how much to say. If she said too much, she\u2019d be here all day telling them the story of her life, which they wouldn\u2019t believe. Nobody did. \u201cMy dad,\u201d she finally said, \u201cwas pulled over for a broken taillight. He smarted off. He was, um\u2014 A&nbsp;\u2026 minority. I guess you could say. There were four cops. They raped and killed him right there.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s and Knox\u2019s jaws dropped.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo my only concern right then was what the NYPD would do to Jack in that time, or how long they\u2019d make him wait until he could call a lawyer. They\u2019d have him confessing to assassinating JFK because he wouldn\u2019t be able to keep his mouth shut.\u201d Sebastian snorted. The corner of Knox\u2019s mouth turned up. \u201cThe children were very conscious of what he looked like, then I clued in. If he\u2019d been dressed well or I\u2019d known all those eavesdroppers understood he wasn\u2019t just some random thug, it might have made a difference.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI wondered,\u201d Knox murmured. \u201cThat logic only comes from people with experience. I\u2019m sorry for your loss.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you. Third, I need to deal with what I saw, to have closure that <em>everybody<\/em>, including that woman\u2019s family, knows Jack didn\u2019t kill her. I want it to happen while the media\u2019s attention is already on him, not months down the road when the media won\u2019t be interested and when people hear \u2018Blackwood,\u2019 they\u2019ll only think of that murder he committed and never got convicted for. Maybe he bought his way out or knew somebody.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian and Knox traded a sober glance.<\/p>\n<p>She took a deep breath. \u201c<em>I<\/em> want this cleaned up before I leave so I can go home and back to my nice little life, and know all the I\u2019s are dotted and all the T\u2019s are crossed. That the whole thing\u2019s been wrapped up, there are no little details left, that nothing\u2019s going to come back on me, that I won\u2019t be looking over my shoulder.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not all,\u201d Knox said.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia was surprised he could see that.<\/p>\n<p><em>Don\u2019t wear your heart on your sleeve, Buttercup. People will snatch it, take a bite out of it, and slap it in your hand dripping blood, then laugh in your face.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cI want to know Jack got his life back because then I can go home and forget he exists.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">13: THE POPPY FIELD<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">JACK HAD NEVER been so bored in his life. He couldn\u2019t go out because his face was fucking <em>everywhere<\/em> and very few people knew Simon had visitors who weren\u2019t her usual socioeconomic class of patients. But he also couldn\u2019t sort out his brain and he wasn\u2019t really <em>awake<\/em>. Time was distorting. He didn\u2019t know what day it was. Space was distorting. He didn\u2019t know where he was. The apartment he was in made him hallucinate, walls opening and closing the way they were, but the only thing he could smell was the slight whiff of bleach and the only thing he could really hear was the continuous hum and thrum of a washer and dryer.<\/p>\n<p>The moment he stumbled against Brenda and saw her fall into the oncoming train was engraved on his neurons and he lay in the bunkbed in a tight but well-ventilated closet, in the dark, pressing his palms against his eyeballs <em>trying<\/em> to get rid of it.<\/p>\n<p>The guilt.<\/p>\n<p>Could he have done something, <em>anything<\/em> to keep her from falling? Surely there was something&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>He had practically fallen off the motorcycle when they\u2019d arrived yesterday, his legs unable to hold him up from the shock, the run, the ride on that <em>fucking<\/em> motorcycle that, that, that <em>woman<\/em> made him ride. He <em>hated<\/em> her. The exam room door had been partially open when he tripped through the front door, and he could see Simon in there working on someone. There was blood on her apron. He nearly passed out again.<\/p>\n<p>Blood.<\/p>\n<p>Shouldn\u2019t there have been blood?<\/p>\n<p>No blood.<\/p>\n<p>Just <em>thump.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Human <em>thump<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>That was all. <em>Thump<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>That was meant to be him. <em>Thump<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>Would\u2019ve been Daisy, too. <em>ThumpThump.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He\u2019d collapsed flat on the floor and waited for Simon to finish with her current patient.<\/p>\n<p>She\u2019d ordered him to strip down and hand over his clothes, ordered him into the shower, ordered him to dress in scrubs, ordered him to drink lots of water and take some pills, ordered him to eat, ordered him to brush his teeth, comb his hair, and lie on the couch.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, there is nothing you could\u2019ve done to catch her or keep yourself from falling into her. You almost hit the train head-first yourself and you\u2019re lucky you still have your face,\u201d Simon kept saying, as if she could scrub his guilt and doubt from his mind. He didn\u2019t remember asking the question. He just remembered hearing the answer.<\/p>\n<p>She made him do stuff all day long, but he\u2019d be damned if he could remember any of it. He did whatever she told him to do because he couldn\u2019t think for himself.<\/p>\n<p><em>Thump<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>His first independent thought had occurred when, around midnight, Daisy had barged into bed with him\u2014a <em>twin bed!<\/em>\u2014which made him mad. He slept alone. In a big bed. So he couldn\u2019t be disturbed. One just didn\u2019t invade Jack\u2019s sleeping space. He needed his sleep, dammit! The two of them had argued; he didn\u2019t remember any of it.<\/p>\n<p>He <em>did<\/em> remember holding her while she sobbed, petting her hair, rubbing her cotton-covered back, pressing kisses into her temple, whispering <em>shhhh<\/em> a lot, and kept holding onto her after she\u2019d dozed off.<\/p>\n<p>He really <em>really<\/em> didn\u2019t like sleeping with a woman, and, much as he wanted to get Daisy in bed, <em>this<\/em> was not how he wanted her. He liked them in and out. He rolled his eyes at himself. There was a reason he didn\u2019t make jokes; it was because he wasn\u2019t funny. He said crass things that were funny <em>to him<\/em>, but so crass they were uncomfortable to everyone else. <em>If<\/em> they got it. He did it on purpose to distance them so he could get his point across in as few words as possible. He had important shit to get done.<\/p>\n<p>But <em>she<\/em> laughed at things other people found gross, mean, or so blatantly crude people weren\u2019t sure he meant to say whatever it was he said.<\/p>\n<p>Clits and Microdicks.<\/p>\n<p>Ramona, Paula, and Val would\u2019ve faked a laugh, looked at him vacantly, or ignored him.<\/p>\n<p>Daisy not only thought it was funny, she had quick comebacks that were just as crass but <em>sounded<\/em> better because they were coming from an adorable little piano teacher.<\/p>\n<p><em>That\u2019s one way to a girl\u2019s vagina.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She made it sound so <em>cute<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>Furthermore, she\u2019d been so fucking <em>thrilled<\/em> to meet him, and no, he wasn\u2019t buying that the reason was he couldn\u2019t see that bullshit thing everybody said she did. \u201cIdiopathic physiological anomaly\u201d his ass. But there must be <em>something<\/em> to it because <em>nobody<\/em> was thrilled to meet Jack. And it wasn\u2019t about his money, because women who approached him were cold and calculating. He was okay with that.<\/p>\n<p>He <em>loved<\/em> knowing a woman was thrilled to meet him. <em>Him<\/em>, not his bank account. And he knew that because she knew who he was, but hadn\u2019t reacted to him at all until he got rude. That was when she started to sparkle. And then she\u2019d listened to him talk about his classes. <em>Really<\/em> listened. And <em>then<\/em> she\u2019d watched him solve a formula he\u2019d been working on for years. Suddenly he could do it because <em>she<\/em> was there like some kind of mathematical muse?<\/p>\n<p>What was <em>wrong<\/em> with this woman? She thought he was smart and interesting. He was smart, but women didn\u2019t care enough to pay attention. Interesting? Only to old mathematicians, stodgy economists, and hungry traders. And forget about funny. Clearly, she was mentally ill if she thought Jack was funny. But of course she was mentally ill. She\u2019d driven that fucking motorcycle twelve hundred miles.<\/p>\n<p>Yes, he had managed to piss her off several times, but it was always when he was making an effort <em>not<\/em> to. But here she was, having pulled him out of death, out of jail, out of his life, and into this bizarre reality where he landed in a twin bed with <em>her<\/em>, snuggling her, comforting her while she sobbed in his chest and sputtered things about almost dying and <em>then<\/em>\u2014<\/p>\n<p>That, that, that <em>woman<\/em> left him to his boredom all day, daytime TV punctuated by moments of panic or scuffle when somebody stumbled in the door looking for the doc. At some point, he was only too willing to help Simon in the exam room because no matter how disgusting, it <em>wasn\u2019t<\/em> boring.<\/p>\n<p>Wednesday morning he awakened with his arm in the curve of Daisy\u2019s waist, his hand over her breast, her hard nipple in his palm. At some point during the second night, she\u2019d gotten back from wherever she went, after having <em>abandoned him<\/em> to boredom, and climbed into bed, her curvy little ass tucked in his groin, her hands in that prayer pose under her face like adorable children in movies. Her hair was tickling his nose and a strand or two got caught in his mouth.<\/p>\n<p>Her breathing changed a little, got deeper. Her chest expanded. She yawned. Smacked her lips together several times. Tightened her body in a big cat stretch.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAren\u2019t you precious, sleeping with your hands under your cheek all sweet like an angel.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t have anywhere else to put my arms, jerkwad,\u201d she retorted irritably.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat time is it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She leaned over the bed to look at the small clock. \u201cSix.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI should be at work right now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sighed.<\/p>\n<p>He smoothed her hair off her neck and kissed her under her ear.<\/p>\n<p>He could\u2019ve sworn she purred.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t do morning sex,\u201d she said sleepily, then yawned again. \u201cPut your thing away.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was affronted. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with morning sex?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFirst, my bladder is bursting. Second, I just don\u2019t get turned on in the morning. It\u2019s not personal. I can\u2019t even get myself off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen <em>do<\/em> you get turned on?\u201d he asked snidely.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThree o\u2019clock in the afternoon,\u201d she said promptly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit, Daisy, do you come with an instruction manual?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes. Rule number one: Don\u2019t call me Daisy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with daisies? Daisies are cute. <em>Adorably<\/em> cute. Nobody ever named a blowup doll \u2018Daisy.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know! It\u2019s so innocent. Which I am not. \u2018Lydia\u2019 means <em>business<\/em>. Almost literally.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou <em>seem<\/em> innocent. You <em>look<\/em> innocent. I mean, <em>I<\/em> know you\u2019re a drama queen, but there is <em>nothing<\/em> you can do\u2014not even bullfighter outfits or full leathers\u2014to make yourself look like a femme fatale to anybody else.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, you know that phrase and can pronounce it correctly. I\u2019m impressed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that all I have to do to impress you? Throw around a couple of German words now and again?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou go on with your bad German-speaking self.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot German.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d She shifted until she was on her back, which required him to cling to the wall and suffer her elbows and shoulders shoved into his chest and stomach. \u201cLast year I went as a witch to the department Halloween party.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd I bet you were an adorably cute one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, dammit,\u201d she grumbled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m curious about something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, God.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI noticed that for all you claim to hate \u2018Daisy,\u2019 you started answering to it immediately. Almost like it\u2019s really your name.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She growled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cC\u2019mon, cough it up. I smell a <em>reason<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sighed. \u201cWhen I was growing up, my dad and grandmother would call me whatever flower name sounded pretty that day. I will answer to a few flowers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAwwww, how <em>adorably cute<\/em>. Which one did you get called most? No, let me guess. <em>Daisy<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Buttercup.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere is no \u2018but.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBullshit.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>After a few seconds, she mumbled, \u201cDaisy is my middle name.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack started to laugh. \u201cThat is so rich.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShut up.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStill doesn\u2019t answer the question. I wouldn\u2019t answer to my middle name if someone pulled it out of the air.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou first. You know you want to tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUgh. Fine. My dad usually called me Buttercup. He called me <em>Daisy<\/em> when I was being a brat. Snotty teenager. Usually after I got home after a slumber party because I was tired and bitchy. To get me worked up so he could laugh at me as punishment for being bitchy. Now you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAmarjeet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, you would too answer to it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He couldn\u2019t stop laughing. \u201cYou can\u2019t escape it, Daize. You <em>are<\/em> a daisy. I knew I was good, but not <em>that<\/em> good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood at what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSales,\u201d he said. \u201cI told you I can read people.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut why do you care?\u201d she blurted. \u201cAdorably cute is not your type.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt has been for the last few days,\u201d he murmured and leaned down to kiss her. Then found her finger half up his nose.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Gross. Not until you brush your teeth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is why I don\u2019t like sleeping with people. Your breath isn\u2019t minty fresh, either.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMm, note to self: Get Altoids.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd condoms. I\u2019ll go with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo you won\u2019t, Mr. Fugitive. Unless you promise to drag Tommy Lee Jones behind you and then I\u2019ll just use you for bait and ride off into the sunset with <em>him<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Tommy Lee Jones?!<\/em> He\u2019s <em>ancient<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m a fan of May-December romance.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou can bullshit everybody else, but not me so save your breath.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, I\u2019m <em>soooo<\/em> not a fan.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that bitterness I hear?\u201d he cooed.<\/p>\n<p>She huffed. \u201cYes. I was twenty-six, he was forty. That lasted about a year. It was a disaster.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He waited.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy grad advisor,\u201d she muttered. \u201cAfter I made associate professor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack started to laugh. \u201cYou are a walking soap opera.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have no idea,\u201d she grumbled. \u201cAt least he wasn\u2019t a manslut like <em>you<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, no,\u201d Jack drawled. \u201cOnly the guy who held your professional future in his hands.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNope,\u201d she said immediately. \u201cI\u2019m a better pianist than he is. Always will be. <em>And<\/em> a theorist. He doesn\u2019t have stage fright, though, so it\u2019s easy to disguise. I was disillusioned when I figured out he\u2019d topped out his skill and was running on charisma fumes, but I broke up with him when I figured out he told me he loved me to draft on my skill and talent.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack lay there for a few seconds, then said, \u201cSo finding out your mentor has clay feet then lied about being in love with you to get in your pants and piano is <em>better<\/em> than having a good time with a man who is your professional and intellectual equal who has been completely upfront about who he is and what he wants?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t answer, but her breathing got faster and shorter.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm. \u2018Manslut,\u2019\u201d he mused. \u201cInteresting word. I\u2019m all about equality, you know. You might even call me a feminist.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Daisy snorted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy are you differentiating \u2018manslut\u2019 from \u2018slut\u2019? \u2018Slut\u2019 is the pejorative because it refers to a woman. \u2018Manslut\u2019 is a descriptor, not a pejorative, making it automatically less bad because either men have more power or men just can\u2019t be insulted or both. Bastard. Asshole. Whatever. Bitch\u2014said to a <em>woman<\/em>, mind you, not to a man\u2014might get me slapped and-or sued. <em>Cunt<\/em> definitely will. There is <em>no<\/em> word for a man that\u2019s as bad as \u2018slut\u2019 or \u2018bitch,\u2019 to say nothing of \u2018cunt.\u2019 Men <em>emasculate<\/em> each other by referring to them as women. Listen up, ladies. How\u2019s it going, girls? Don\u2019t be such a pussy. Bitch. Cunt.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you?\u201d she asked tightly. \u201cFeel emasculated?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit, no,\u201d he scoffed. \u201cYou know what it says when somebody calls <em>me<\/em> a pussy? It says either they\u2019re insecure and they\u2019re trying to sharpen their alpha on me <em>or<\/em> it means they\u2019re pissed that I refuse to value the same things they value. But \u2018slut\u2019? No man on Earth feels emasculated to be called a \u2018slut,\u2019 and \u2018manslut\u2019 isn\u2019t even that strong. Tell me you think \u2018manslut\u2019 is equivalent to \u2018slut.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Nothing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou can\u2019t. I do <em>not<\/em> date stupid women. They aren\u2019t as well educated as you are, but they are <em>far<\/em> from stupid. And,\u201d he continued archly after a few seconds of silence, \u201cif you think I\u2019m a misogynistic pig, you <em>might<\/em> be right if you think the women I fuck are victims, stupid, or na\u00efve. In which case, you assume the women aren\u2019t equal. I would <em>never<\/em> call a woman a slut because I <em>know<\/em> they\u2019re equal and they have the same motives and appetites men do, so <em>you<\/em> are the misogynist. <em>I<\/em> am hot and rich. I am not bragging. That is a fact of life. From their standpoint, <em>I<\/em> am the mark. It doesn\u2019t matter how dark I am or even how good or bad in bed I am. I know <em>exactly<\/em> what they want and it\u2019s not a love affair. In fact, I admire them for being as opportunistic as any man on Wall Street. And before you say, \u2018They\u2019re not sluts, they\u2019re whores,\u2019 listen. When you get right down to it, <em>everybody<\/em> is a whore. <em>Everybody<\/em> has to do something they may not like to get what they want. In <em>my<\/em> case, they get a hot guy and a good time. Fucking me is not a hardship.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was still silent for another few seconds during which he was patting himself on the back for outwitting her. Then she said, \u201cI\u2019d concede most of that, <em>except<\/em> that one of your exes just tried to kill you. Either you\u2019re not paying attention or some of your women really <em>do<\/em> want a love affair or marriage, and just go away crying without letting you know how hurt they are.\u201d She paused. \u201cTell me you haven\u2019t broken up with a woman when she started saying things that sounded suspiciously like \u2018wedding.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He scoffed. \u201cYou have to get married to get a divorce settlement.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat narrows the field, but how many of them didn\u2019t take any of your expensive offerings or end-of-the-affair gifts? Flowers and chocolate get a pass.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Oh. Hm. There were a few of those, and he\u2019d never understood why any woman would refuse dresses and diamonds.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd tell me you haven\u2019t <em>ever<\/em> wanted a woman badly enough to say something from which she could legitimately infer that you were open to marriage and that <em>she<\/em> could possibly maybe be The One.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have never done that.\u201d So far as he could remember.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh you have, too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He growled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you think,\u201d she said quietly, \u201cI don\u2019t know what a man will tell a woman to get her in bed, or what women are willing to believe in the hope of love, or, better yet, the love of a charismatic tomcat, a <em>bad boy<\/em>, to be <em>The One<\/em> who wins his heart and soul, you\u2019re mistaken. Some of us just can\u2019t resist you and some of you don\u2019t even have to be handsome. My ex-parasite certainly isn\u2019t. You all know that. That doesn\u2019t make us victims or na\u00efve.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich leaves stupid,\u201d he shot back, stung, not knowing why, because he <em>knew<\/em> women loved bad boys and he <em>was<\/em> one. He wasn\u2019t playing at it. That was who he was.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou <em>did<\/em> just hear the story I told you, right?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou wanted a love affair with an intelligent man you admired who would always be your professional superior, but what you got was an aging big fish panicking because his student, a woman fourteen years younger than he is, was superior to him in every way. So he did whatever he had to do to keep you dazzled. What about that makes you stupid?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly <em>everything<\/em>,\u201d she sneered. \u201cI <em>allowed<\/em> myself to be dazzled. Flashy. Charismatic. Intelligent. Funny. I love guys like that, but the more time I spent with any one guy, the less intelligent he got. This one might have done that before I realized what was happening, but I\u2019ll never know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou do too know. Even if you hadn\u2019t found all that out, you would\u2019ve topped him eventually and then the stars in your eyes would have burned out. You aren\u2019t one to tolerate a pussy for long. I\u2019m shocked you put up with him for a year. Or else he was just that fantastic in bed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Again she was silent.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, he <em>was<\/em>, wasn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She huffed. \u201cHe had to be. He was hung like a toddler.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack thought that was hilarious. \u201cBut I am not, which you know. So that means I have all the qualifications you\u2019re looking for, I\u2019m not interested in riding your talent, nor am I ever going to compete with you, and you <em>know<\/em> there is no possibility that my <em>very<\/em> high IQ is going to tank with continued interaction.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou have a point. A stupidly needy college professor and a culturally illiterate college professor who depends on his dick to do all the heavy lifting.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know whether you just insulted me or not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t either.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He <em>hated<\/em> her. <em>Haaaaated<\/em> her. But he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. \u201cWell, sorry to pop your Little Piano on the Prairie bubble, but <em>my<\/em> women are too savvy to think I can be domesticated.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2018Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh! Shakespeare!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The hell? Of <em>course<\/em> it was Shakespeare. <em>Everybody<\/em> knew that. \u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Explain Val.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>She<\/em> broke up with <em>me<\/em>. Explain <em>that<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe quit before she got fired. Jack, I\u2019m serious. She tried to kill you, almost killed me, and <em>did<\/em> kill Brenda.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Brenda.<\/p>\n<p><em>Thump.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He took a deep, shuddering breath.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut <em>that<\/em> wasn\u2019t your fault,\u201d she said quietly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, okay,\u201d he snapped. \u201cTell the movie operator in my head to stop replaying that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He felt her hand on his cheek. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI was <em>there<\/em>, Jack. I heard and saw the whole thing. It <em>wasn\u2019t<\/em> your fault. I can say that. But I also know that no matter how many times I say \u2018It wasn\u2019t your fault,\u2019 you won\u2019t believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His breathing got a little more ragged, with her soft palm against his face, feeling her sympathy. He turned his head and pressed a kiss there. \u201cThanks for trying,\u201d he muttered. \u201cIf you really want to make me feel better, you can take your clothes off and climb on top of me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s not three p.m. yet. My body is very stubborn about timing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He couldn\u2019t get it up right now if he tried, with that movie in his head and her sympathy seeping through his cheek. \u201cAnother physiological anomaly?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, that\u2019s a common thing about women, but you wouldn\u2019t know that, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWas that a good-natured jab or a catty one?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMeee. Ow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He smiled into the darkness, stroking her ribs through the cotton scrubs, cupping her breast, caressing her belly.<\/p>\n<p>She sighed and caressed the back of his hand with a finger.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou gonna be around at three?\u201d he asked huskily.<\/p>\n<p>She hesitated, but all he had to do was talk to her about derivatives and he\u2019d have her wet. Her reaction to <em>that<\/em> also thrilled him to death.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou got a motorcycle because you wanted one,\u201d he whispered in her ear. \u201cWhy do you need an excuse to fuck a guy who makes you laugh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, <em>honestly<\/em>. Having chrome between my legs is entirely different from having a man there. And in case you\u2019re wondering, riding a motorcycle is far from orgasm-inducing. It\u2019s hot and itchy. I ride with an ice pack between my legs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh,\u201d he said, surprised.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBesides, I need to think about this. Things have changed and what\u2019s between us here, now, is different from what was there at lunch. You know, before you shot your mouth off about your girlfriends.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He grimaced. \u201cYeah, I\u2019m sorry about that. I\u2019m not used to nice girls.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019re both still in shock. We have to wait it out, and\u2014\u201d She stopped. \u201cI\u2019m glad I didn\u2019t get that job because right now, I just want to go home and forget this ever happened.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s throat tightened immediately. She could do that. \u201cWould you take me with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she said immediately. \u201cI don\u2019t want you in my spaces.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.<\/em> \u201cI was joking.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sounded sad and Jack didn\u2019t know what to say, then realized he was manufacturing this conversation to keep the movie from replaying in his head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me about Val,\u201d she said. <em>Commanded<\/em>, actually.<\/p>\n<p>He shifted onto his back, too. She moved. A little. There was a rail there, as if they were children who couldn\u2019t be trusted not to roll out of bed in their sleep. No, they were adults who couldn\u2019t <em>fit<\/em> in the fucking bed together. Of course they needed a rail.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cValentina Ghidella,\u201d he sighed. \u201cSeptember to November 1990.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat was six years ago. I\u2019m going to assume she wanted a love affair or marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaize, honestly, I don\u2019t know. She wasn\u2019t making noises about permanence of any kind, and she wouldn\u2019t use my credit card. No, she didn\u2019t take the gifts I bought her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere did she live?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He snorted. \u201cYou plan on hunting her down?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have to get the information to your new lawyer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSebastian\u2019s cousin Knox, which is why your lawyer wasn\u2019t on TV by the evening news.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank <em>God<\/em>,\u201d he breathed. \u201cIs that where you went yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMet up with Sebastian and he tagged along, yes. Your right hand is now the big kahuna, so her daddy\u2019s biz got put on hold and Bucho\u2019s now more than a floating exec. The board is going to back you whether they want to or not, under threat of another coup by her, Sebastian, Knox, and your uncle&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYep. Real estate. He\u2019s one of my major shareholders, owns my building, has a lot of pull in and out of New York, and generally finds me the most trustworthy person he\u2019s ever met. I wouldn\u2019t have been able to pull that coup off without him. I also introduced him to my aunt, and he\u2019s eternally grateful. My crew and Sebastian\u2019s intimidate the board. My uncle terrifies them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know,\u201d she mused, \u201cfor a guy who doesn\u2019t have friends, you sure have a lot of them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d he drawled, \u201cI have <em>allies<\/em>. That\u2019s totally different.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you say so,\u201d she said vaguely. \u201cAnyway. I have cash and an agenda. Knox doesn\u2019t know where we are. He is of the opinion we did the logical thing at that moment, particularly with my experience in the mix, and will not offer to turn you over. But since we are in hiding, he wants us to stay out of the way while he\u2019s working because he doesn\u2019t trust you to keep your mouth shut. Part of that is he needs to have everything you can remember about the chick who pushed you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack felt a glimmer of hope. He didn\u2019t kid himself; none of those people were his <em>friends<\/em>. They were allies with whom he shared a great mutual respect. He would go to bat for Melinda and those guys because they worked clean. Sebastian had a few questionable habits and Knox had his own shadows, but Knox considered Jack\u2019s sex life not only unethical but <em>immoral<\/em>. He wasn\u2019t shy about saying it and Jack didn\u2019t want to hear it from his dad, much less an outsider almost ten years younger than Jack. Jack tolerated it because he knew he\u2019d never have to choose between his allies and the ethical thing to do. Sebastian tolerated his habits because he wasn\u2019t exposed to a regular manifestation of them, and even then he had his limits.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s uncle was the only person in his family who understood him and his place in the world and respected him for it. None of the rest of them knew what he did nor were they interested. If it didn\u2019t involve a honey-do list, a tennis racket or a catcher\u2019s mitt, or his sex life, it was irrelevant. And God knew, his parents had plenty to say about his sex life\u2014none of it good\u2014and they said it quite often.<\/p>\n<p>He\u2019d brought one of his women to a family picnic.<\/p>\n<p>Once.<\/p>\n<p>He could imagine what his dad would say about this predicament: <em>Told you so<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cVal had an apartment in Queens, close to LaGuardia,\u201d Jack said finally. Wearily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you remember the address?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, but get me a map while you\u2019re out and I can find it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnything else?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe seemed normal. No relationship drama. Good sex. Good cocktail party date.\u201d He paused. Laughed. \u201cUncultured swine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made her laugh too. It <em>mattered<\/em> to him that she laughed at things he found ridiculous or stupid or funny.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHonestly, Daize, if I could remember anything weird about her, I\u2019d tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was silent for a few seconds. \u201cJack, I <em>hate<\/em> how fast you go through women. How <em>many<\/em> there are. That\u2019s one reason I got so mad every time you reminded me or one showed up. I don\u2019t want to be one of them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He closed his eyes with a groan and let his body sink back into the bed, his head into the pillow. \u201cI don\u2019t notch my bedpost,\u201d he grumbled, resenting her inability or refusal to see she was <em>different<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t keep track of how many peanuts you eat at a bar, either, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He barked a laugh. \u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, I\u2019m an idiot,\u201d she moaned, rubbing her hands on her face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour tone of voice suggests that even though you don\u2019t like me, don\u2019t like the way I treat women, don\u2019t respect my lack of culture or anything else about me, and don\u2019t find me admirable in any way whatsoever, you\u2019re still going to fuck me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou teach upper-level math. I can respect that. A little.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, speaking of that. I never did get to finish my explanation of the inflation-proof bond. You ran out on me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm, okay. Tell me again.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was surprised she called his bluff, but maybe she really did just want to go back to sleep. So&nbsp;\u2026 he did. And after about ten minutes, she stopped him and asked a pertinent question. He explained. \u201cGo on,\u201d she said. He did, a little more slowly, but now it was because he was dazed. She was <em>listening<\/em> to him. <em>Again<\/em>. He never talked about this stuff because most people weren\u2019t interested and the ones who were just wanted to argue about it. Then she asked him to backtrack and explain a concept. He did. \u201cGo on,\u201d she said when he was finished with that. When he concluded his lecture, she asked, \u201cWell, if it works, how come you\u2019re the only one who does it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFavors,\u201d he replied. \u201cPolitics. Most people have to balance their <em>relationships<\/em> with their fiduciary responsibilities, and some people\u2019s people don\u2019t like my method, so loyalties get divided and loyalty makes you vulnerable to bad judgment and corruption. I don\u2019t owe anybody any favors and I have a reputation for making lots of money very quickly, which, in my case\u2014because I am <em>special<\/em>\u2014\u201d She laughed. \u201c\u2014gives me a lot more freedom than they have. I don\u2019t have any <em>relationships<\/em> to violate, and I choose my allies very wisely. Background checks, the works. And if they violated my ethics anyway, I wouldn\u2019t have any problem turning on them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that why you choose the women you do?\u201d she asked softly. \u201cBecause you won\u2019t have to choose between a woman and something else you value?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. I\u2019m a simple guy. I like meaningless sex, McDonald\u2019s, and whatever\u2019s on the radio right now. Note the \u2018meaningless sex\u2019 part.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich means either you think having sex with me will be meaningless, which is why I won\u2019t have sex with you, or you won\u2019t be having sex with me because it\u2019ll mean something to you. Which begs the question: Why did you keep trying?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Because you\u2019re different!<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He felt like he\u2019d been ambushed. No, he <em>had<\/em> been ambushed. \u201cI hate you,\u201d he muttered, fondling her bruised knuckles, hearing her chuckles. \u201c<em>Hate<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou are so easy,\u201d she drawled as she slid out of bed and slowly eased the door open, then disappeared into the quiet apartment.<\/p>\n<p>He lay there and stared up into the blackness. <em>I hate you<\/em>, something any of his girlfriends would have tittered at nervously, given him the side-eye, or walked away. Daisy thought it was funny. Why, he didn\u2019t know. Nothing he said deliberately to insult or shock her fazed her. Nothing he said when trying to display a nonexistent decency and humanity made her happy.<\/p>\n<p>He slid off the bed and went out into the blinding light, which wasn\u2019t that blinding since it was six a.m. and there was only one small window, but he\u2019d just been in a pitch black room for hours upon hours. The children were asleep on the couch, one head at each end. Simon\u2014 Well, he didn\u2019t know where Simon\u2019s bedroom was. He did know where the bathroom was, and there <em>she<\/em> was, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror. She smirked when she saw him behind her, and he snarled at her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Hate<\/em>,\u201d he hissed right before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss into her shoulder.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf it doesn\u2019t involve a toilet,\u201d came Simon\u2019s voice from the tiny hallway, \u201cdo your post-coital bonding somewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo coitus,\u201d Daisy trilled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYet,\u201d Jack drawled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYour pitching woo, then. One bathroom, seven people.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack met Daisy\u2019s gaze in the mirror, then they both turned. \u201cSeven?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOne gunshot wound,\u201d she said wearily, dragging into the bathroom with them. \u201cOne woman needing a place to hide from her man.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave you not been to bed?\u201d Daisy demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Get out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They did, but instead of picking up where they left off, Daisy headed into the kitchen and started to cook. \u201cJack,\u201d she said over her shoulder, \u201cgo get instructions about the patient and then put Simon to bed. The last thing she needs is two healthy adults lazing around while she works her butt off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack rolled his eyes and turned around to do what she told him to do because no matter how much he sparred with her, he couldn\u2019t get that fucking movie out of his head.<\/p>\n<p><em>Thump.<\/em><\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">14: WITCHES CAN BE RIGHT<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">LYDIA COOKED BREAKFAST for the kid with a gunshot wound in his thigh; the woman who was hiding out in terror of a man before her sister picked her up; Jesus and Mary; and Manuelito and Paco, whom she wasn\u2019t too surprised to see. She and Jack would eat after all but the patient had left. Simon was still sleeping.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was bouncing off the walls because he had nothing to do, nowhere he could go, and no one on the outside he could talk to. He started pacing and shoving his hands through his hair, mumbling and grumbling, occasionally ranting <em>especially<\/em> after Knox had appeared all over the morning news and talk shows, getting far more coverage than any other lawyer in that situation would\u2019ve.<\/p>\n<p>Because he was young and hot.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>That<\/em> is a fine specimen of a man,\u201d Simon said matter-of-factly from across the room on a replay around noon.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou should see him in person,\u201d Lydia offered over her shoulder. \u201cOh\u2014My\u2014<em>God<\/em>. And I don\u2019t even like blonds.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat the fuck?!\u201d Jack demanded of her.<\/p>\n<p>She raised her eyebrow. \u201c<em>Who<\/em> propositioned me before he broke up with his current girlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHilliard\u2019s a fucking prude.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou say that like it\u2019s a bad thing. Hot <em>and<\/em> respectful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack snarled at her. \u201cHe\u2019s into cougars.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow old is he? Thirty?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot quite.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at Simon. \u201cI\u2019ve got at least five years on him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFifteen here. He\u2019s fair game and I <em>do<\/em> like blonds.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI saw him first, so I get dibs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, you do not!\u201d Jack snapped.<\/p>\n<p>She and Simon both snickered at him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>AAAUUUUGHHH!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLadies and gentlemen, good morning. My name is Knox Hilliard. I have been retained by Blackwood Securities to represent Jack Blackwood regarding the incident at the Wall Street station two days ago. As you can see from the security tapes, it\u2019s clear that Jack fell and had some forward momentum, which leads us to believe he was deliberately shoved, making him the intended victim. Ms Koskella was an innocent bystander. We extend our heartfelt condolences to Ms Koskella and her loved ones and friends.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Do you have evidence he was pushed?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. The police department has been talking to witnesses as they can. It is <em>their<\/em> job to look at the evidence they have to determine whether they can make a case as to whether the fall was staged. I don\u2019t think they can.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>He and the victim had a heated argument that several witnesses have confirmed. If it was an accident, and especially if he was the intended victim, why did he run?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cRegarding the argument, the reason for the animosity between Jack and Ms Koskella is well documented. Jack\u2019s actions in Ms Koskella\u2019s case six years ago were aboveboard and per strict protocol through the justice system. He\u2019s known in corporate America as having spotless ethics, so any action beyond that would be completely out of character for him. Ms Koskella served her sentence and had resumed a normal life with gainful employment. Yes, <em>she<\/em> threatened to push <em>him<\/em> off the platform, which several witnesses have corroborated, but we\u2019re only human and sometimes we let our passions get away with us. We have no reason to believe her threat was anything but pure frustration.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAs for why he ran, I can only speculate. As a prosecutor with my own jurisdiction, I am in a position to see how minorities are treated by law enforcement officers regardless of their status as suspects or victims. I am not in a position to comment on the <em>NYPD<\/em>\u2019s arrest protocols or its reputation for the gentle handling of people who are clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, since Jack <em>is<\/em> a minority\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck you, Hilliard!\u201d Jack yelled at the TV, sick of his entire identity being reduced to his skin color. \u201cI\u2019m a fucking <em>AMERICAN!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014and he wasn\u2019t dressed in a manner that would suggest he was a normal commuter at rush hour in the financial district, he may have felt he wouldn\u2019t get fair treatment at the scene. It is unfortunate that <em>occasionally<\/em>, fine, upstanding officers will be overzealous in their pursuit of justice, especially when minorities are involved.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon snorted. Manny and Paco cackled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMinorities are, naturally, more sensitive to this possibility than non-minorities. In fact, it is usually at the forefront of their minds in any encounter with law enforcement. As the prosecutor in my home county, I can speak from a position of authority. It\u2019s not speculation on my part.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>You\u2019re from Missouri! Are you admitted in New York?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m admitted in seventeen states, including New York.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhoa,\u201d Lydia said in awe.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe has a photographic memory and reads at the speed of light,\u201d Jack said absently.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEven better,\u201d Simon purred.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, yessssss.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have, in fact, argued here, so I\u2019m not unknown.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Are you going to turn him in?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cAs I don\u2019t know where he is or how to find him, I can\u2019t. I, like everyone else, will depend on the NYPD to find him and, hopefully, treat him as the victim he is instead of the criminal the media are trying to make him. At best, he fell, and a bystander was killed. At worst, he was the intended target and was pushed, and a bystander was killed. I have faith that the good men and women of the NYPD will give him the benefit of the doubt as they would any other victim of a horrendous crime.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDrop-dead gorgeous or not, that boy\u2019s got no credibility,\u201d Simon said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy not?\u201d Lydia asked, alarmed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s young, he\u2019s from out of town, and he just dared the NYPD to find Jack and beat him down. They\u2019ll do it, too. That act might play in Kansas City, but it doesn\u2019t here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at Jack, who was too busy glaring at them both to look concerned.<\/p>\n<p><em>Are you going to call for him to turn himself in?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf he\u2019s seeing this press conference, he will know what I would advise him to do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSince you\u2019re still here,\u201d Simon said, \u201cI suppose we know what he wants you to do. No credibility, but he skirts the edges nicely.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s mouth flattened. \u201c\u2018Skirt\u2019 is not what I would call it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at him sharply. \u201cYou need to get over your precious obsessive ethics,\u201d she sneered. \u201c<em>You<\/em> might have a moral luxury nobody else has\u2014<em>especially<\/em> your peers and colleagues\u2014but if you expect to have someone to look after you in your old age or live that long, you are going to have to accept the fact that your experience has been unique and in no way universal. And now <em>you<\/em> don\u2019t have that luxury, either.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBravo,\u201d Simon said matter-of-factly.<\/p>\n<p><em>\u2026 have a tarnished reputation in your home county. Weren\u2019t you investigated in the execution-style murder of a man the day after he was found not guilty on nineteen counts of homicide two years ago? A case you tried and lost?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, my God,\u201d Simon breathed and moved closer to the TV.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia had expected that question. One couldn\u2019t live in the Kansas City metro area without knowing <em>that<\/em> rumor.<\/p>\n<p>Jack grunted. \u201cLike I said, <em>skirting<\/em> is not what I\u2019d call it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Knox nodded matter-of-factly. \u201cI was put on a month\u2019s leave without pay while I was investigated. Then I was cleared. It\u2019s really no more sensational than that, except I had a hard time paying my mortgage that month. Almost had to pick up a night shift at QuikTrip.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Light laughter went around.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut as you note, I <em>am<\/em> the prosecutor, so apparently the county that re-elected me in a landslide thinks I\u2019m a fairly decent one. No more questions. You\u2019ll have to wait for the rest of the story from Paul Harvey, \u2019cause that\u2019s all I got.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d Simon drawled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t know if he did it,\u201d Jack gritted out. \u201cDon\u2019t wanna know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at him. \u201c<em>Friends<\/em>,\u201d she said quietly. \u201c<em>Relationships<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack turned and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s a lot more complicated than he seems,\u201d Simon muttered as she flipped off the TV.<\/p>\n<p>But Lydia was staring at the bathroom door. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t want friends. They might turn out to be Brendas.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEverybody in this world\u2019s a Brenda some way or another.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe doesn\u2019t want to find that out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">15: REFLECTION<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">IT WAS AFTER dinner when Lydia got back to Simon\u2019s place with toiletries and thrift-store clothes. Lots of them. Some for Jack, some for the kids, some for Simon, and some for herself. She was shocked when she walked in to see Jack in one of Simon\u2019s old broken-down club chairs with Mary on one of the wide arms of the chair and Jesus on the other while he read to them.<\/p>\n<p>His foot was thumping like a rabbit\u2019s so his knee was bouncing. His voice was a little herky-jerky although he was trying to put some color into it. He kept running his hand through his hair. His jaw was grinding a little. He looked up when she came in and glared at her.<\/p>\n<p>It was a <em>meaningful<\/em> glare, meaning, <em>Get me out of this. Now.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She ignored him and went to find Simon, who was on her bed, doing a little light reading. Of medical journals. \u201cHas he been out at all?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, and he\u2019s driving me crazy, but I\u2019m not comfortable letting him go out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll get Manuelito and Paco to take him out and run some of that off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As soon as she got the teenagers to the door with a basketball, Jack was gone like a shot. Jesus and Mary were upset that he\u2019d abandoned them, but were much happier when, after making them shower and brush their teeth, Lydia took up reading duties until they couldn\u2019t hold their eyes open and she put them to bed on the couch.<\/p>\n<p>It was one o\u2019clock in the morning when Jack climbed into bed with her, damp, smelling like soap and chocolate, totally exhausted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI brought clothes for you, but you vamoosed,\u201d she said lightly, helping him get settled and smiling at his moans and groans.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCondoms?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sighed heavily. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot getting used tonight, though. Those kids beat my ass.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, you <em>are<\/em> twenty years older than they are.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>I<\/em>,\u201d he returned haughtily, \u201cstill have more stamina. They rounded up all their friends and kept me in the game while <em>they<\/em> switched out. <em>I<\/em> wore them out, but I\u2019m paying the price for it. What did you say to them when we brought Mary here? Besides turn on the guilt and look in their eyes, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia turned onto her side and propped her temple in her palm, putting her other hand on Jack\u2019s cotton-covered chest because she had nowhere else to put it. \u201cIf they kept going the way they were, they\u2019d be bottoming in a high-security prison, wearing pink satin panties and calling their top \u2018honey\u2019 and \u2018baby\u2019 and saying \u2018yes, sweetie\u2019 a lot, handing over their singles, and getting passed around like money to any dick who can pay for them. They\u2019d never get to put <em>their<\/em> dicks in any woman ever again because their large intestines would be hanging out their butts like a tail, which is not sexy. That was the G-rated version.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack burst out laughing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd if they thought they\u2019d be able to top on the inside, they were delusional.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed until he groaned and put his hand to his head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHeadache?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCaused by\u2014\u201d He started laughing again. \u201cYou\u2019re hilarious.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI also told them that it\u2019s the <em>little things<\/em> that make a difference, like&nbsp;\u2026 helping someone carry groceries to feed someone who\u2019s helped them so much. Minding their own business. Hanging out with good kids from good families. And that\u2019s when I turned on the guilt.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMade them look you in the eye.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOf course I did. I figured they\u2019d rather play hours of pickup basketball with a glorified door-to-door salesman than do whatever stupid thing they had planned for the night. Then I told them to go to school tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that your freshman pep talk?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She laughed. \u201cA variation. How\u2019d you know?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI get one or two of \u2019em every once in a while. They didn\u2019t get it as freshmen. Or sophomores. They\u2019re struggling. I can see something\u2019s <em>there<\/em>, but I can\u2019t dig through the insecurity to get to it unless they\u2019re ready for somebody to start digging.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, that\u2019s a nice way of putting it. I got one of those. Turned my life around.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, when my first advanced piano teacher told me I was in no way advanced and I needed to start at the bottom\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He started. \u201cAs a <em>college<\/em> freshman? Didn\u2019t you have to audition?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot only that, but I got a full-ride scholarship! She wasn\u2019t kind about it, either, so I was shocked. Devastated. My technique was all wrong. My classical music repertoire was almost nonexistent. I was hot stuff at home and then I got there and I was barely average. My classmates were so far ahead of me I couldn\u2019t hope to catch up. What if I was never going to be that good? My roommate\u2014Sebastian and Knox\u2019s cousin Victoria\u2014gave me the pep talk. Her minor was opera, but she sang jazz in a nightclub. She said they required two separate techniques, so between class and her gig, she just flipped a switch. My pop music technique was <em>right<\/em>, but since I didn\u2019t have a frame of reference for classical technique, I should look at it like I was learning a new instrument, not like something I had to correct. All I had to do was put my back into it. I was back in advanced piano by my third semester. The problem is, I never really <em>stopped<\/em> thinking I was special, which was why I kept thinking <em>I<\/em> could be the one to tame the bad boy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou <em>are<\/em> special.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIn my world, yes, but it\u2019s very tiny.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not what I meant.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She ignored that. \u201cThe rest of the world is filled with <em>you<\/em> and <em>you<\/em> are heroin to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t say anything, but he dragged his finger lightly over the back of her hand. \u201cI don\u2019t know anything about where you are in the music world,\u201d he muttered. She was surprised he didn\u2019t follow up on her confession. \u201cI feel kind of bad about that, since you sort of understand my work.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly from TV and what you just pick up along the way,\u201d she said, then went silent because she was too busy feeling warmth and tenderness trickling through her. Then she sighed because she didn\u2019t know if they\u2019d have ever gotten to this without Val. \u201cThe thing is,\u201d she mused, \u201c<em>lots<\/em> of people understand what I play and that it\u2019s difficult and that I <em>am<\/em> a virtuoso. People <em>do<\/em> come from China to study with me. But I just want to entertain people. Make them feel good. Pianists like me don\u2019t play classical music to make people <em>feel good<\/em> and discerning audiences don\u2019t drop three hundred dollars on a ticket for one pianist to <em>feel good<\/em>. They go to listen to music they like, yes, but to be able to say they saw that person. This pianist, brilliant. That pianist, a virtuoso. This soprano, perfection. That ballerina, divine. This sculptor\u2014 Well, it goes on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t say anything for a long time, but she knew he was awake, because he was still caressing her hand. \u201cSo making people feel good means they\u2019re not discerning?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, that\u2019s not what I mean. You go see Pearl Jam, right? You go to see <em>them<\/em>. If they screw up, no problem. The audience probably can\u2019t even hear it. People are discerning about <em>Pearl Jam<\/em> and that genre, but they still love <em>them<\/em>. They\u2019re there to rock out with Pearl Jam, not wallow in their mistakes. Pearl Jam has the power in that relationship. A concert pianist doesn\u2019t have any power at all. The only thing I can control is my level of perfection, which triggers a Catch-22 for me. Used to be, mistakes were forgiven. Expected, even. \u2018Nobody\u2019s perfect.\u2019 \u2018Well, they can do it better than I can.\u2019 Audiences don\u2019t tolerate mistakes from a virtuoso anymore, especially a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s interesting,\u201d he drawled like she\u2019d revealed some deep, dark secret. \u201cBut your logic falls apart when you throw lip syncing into the equation. I don\u2019t go see anybody live if they <em>don\u2019t<\/em> lip sync. I want to hear what\u2019s on the radio, which is all the backing tracks they can\u2019t do live. The big flashy shows with lasers and fireworks. Janet Jackson. She can\u2019t dance like she does <em>and<\/em> sing radio-perfect for two hours. Not physically possible. That\u2019s what I go for, the same music I hear on the radio with a flawless two-hour dance routine and a flashy show. So if <em>discerning<\/em> audiences won\u2019t tolerate virtuosos making mistakes, it means they\u2019re just like me. They\u2019re used to hearing it on their state-of-the-art sound systems and they want what they hear at home. Live and with better acoustics.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia thought about that, half amazed Jack brought something to her experience she\u2019d never considered. \u201cOh,\u201d she said in a small voice. \u201cI\u2014 Um, hm. I almost always perform with or behind the orchestra or stage show, which means it doesn\u2019t matter if the audience is discerning or not. They won\u2019t be judging <em>me<\/em>, individually. They\u2019re only there to have a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen why do you wear such a flashy outfit when you\u2019re auditioning or performing alone?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She hesitated. \u201cThat\u2019s&nbsp;\u2026 complicated.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, it would be a lot <em>less<\/em> complicated if your white shirt underneath that slit in your sleeve weren\u2019t so distracting.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Exactly. \u201cYou noticed?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSeven grand, right down the toilet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She puffed a laugh. \u201cYou wanted to know, too?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t until Ramona asked, because <em>I<\/em> wasn\u2019t checking out your bling.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia grinned into the pitch black of their little hideaway. \u201cYou know she sabotaged me on purpose, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He growled. \u201cShe let me know when I broke up with her. I was so pissed. How did you know?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t think anything of how you were looking at me because men do that after looking in my eyes. I noticed her trying to figure out why these two gorgeous guys\u2014one she\u2019s sleeping with and one she wants to be\u2014are all about an ordinary-looking woman. She can\u2019t play a game whose rules she doesn\u2019t know, so she went scorched Earth. I lost the round, but I won the game.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He snorted. \u201cAnd your prize is a twin bed in a closet in Spanish Harlem with a guy who may or may not be wanted for murder and almost got murdered himself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d she drawled. \u201cI could do better on the midway at a carnival.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s your game, honey?\u201d he cooed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSkeeball.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed. \u201cYou kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cToo soon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh, right. Have you ever played a full concert hall by yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes.\u201d It was an awful memory. \u201cOnce. I puked for days before. I did another, with a full orchestra behind me. That wasn\u2019t <em>quite<\/em> as bad, and the conductor was very understanding.\u201d She chuckled. \u201cI kind of want to puke now, just remembering it. I\u2019m fine in the pit, though, playing for a ballet or an opera. I\u2019m featured on the playbill, but I\u2019m not the main attraction.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBarbra Streisand. Carly Simon. Rod Stewart. Stage fright. <em>Crippling<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her brow wrinkled. \u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI did some research. You can\u2019t be the only high-level musician with stage fright. I was going to beg for dinner again and talk to you about it, but then we ended up on the same platform and almost murdered together. It slipped my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gaped. \u201cYou researched that? For me?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And for no reason she could discern, she dipped her head and kissed him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm, now that\u2019s what I like to come home to,\u201d he whispered against her mouth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStop talking.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He chuckled against her mouth but went with the kiss, soft, slow, deep, light. He caressed her curls while they kissed, there in the dark, unable to do anything but taste and feel and smell and hear.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t start something I can\u2019t finish,\u201d he whispered when she pulled away to catch her breath. \u201cI\u2019m beat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s okay. I\u2019m tired too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He yawned. \u201cCan\u2019t remember the last time I saw two a.m.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m a night owl. I only know five-thirty from the back side.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNaturally.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich reminds me: In the interest of full disclosure, though I have never stolen anything from anyone, I am adept at cooking books and fudging tax returns and following other shady financial rabbit trails you wouldn\u2019t approve of.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He laughed harshly and she felt him run his hand down his face. \u201cOf course you are. This just couldn\u2019t be easy, could it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sighed. \u201cMaybe the universe is trying to tell us something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe universe can go fuck itself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">16: HEGEL OF WALL STREET<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">HE WAS NUZZLING the back of her neck, but it seemed unintentional, as if he were asleep and she was his teddy bear. Somehow they\u2019d changed positions without his falling out of bed, and now she was facing the wall and he was spooned behind her. He hummed a little against her skin and still she couldn\u2019t tell if he was asleep or not. Everybody slept differently and she had very rarely <em>slept<\/em> with any man.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou smell good,\u201d he breathed in her ear.<\/p>\n<p>Yeah, he looked like Tony, or at least, the picture of him she\u2019d seen every day of her childhood. She wasn\u2019t averse to <em>Tony<\/em>. She was just sick of looking at him and listening to Lola go on and on about how he was going to walk through the front door and take her away somewhere, like Rico never existed. Tony story number four hundred and sixty-two.<\/p>\n<p>She breathed a soft laugh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou laughing at me?\u201d he asked softly before licking her earlobe.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis isn\u2019t a good idea.\u201d She wanted it to be. God knew, she <em>wanted<\/em> it to be.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Last<\/em> week, I didn\u2019t want to be one of many. <em>This<\/em> week, I don\u2019t want battlefield survivor bonding sex.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He slid his hand down her body, caressing her over and back again, her ribs, her belly, her hips, down until he was between her legs, tickling the inside of her thigh just under the hem of her shorts, his thumb brushing her just right.<\/p>\n<p>She sighed and closed her eyes, exhaling with pleasure when his fingers slid up her shorts, past her panties, and caressed her <em>right there<\/em> in the folds, tauntingly, teasingly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis was already on tap, so it\u2019s not survivor comfort. We were standing there in the middle of rush hour setting an hour-by-hour agenda for a weekend in bed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She puffed a small laugh. \u201cFine. You got me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t expect to get you in a twin bunkbed.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She wanted to be close, yes. Not <em>this<\/em> close.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re wet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She\u2019d been wet since she\u2019d started kissing him and went to sleep wet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd I\u2019m hard.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Yes, she knew. All too well.<\/p>\n<p>He moved a little backward and she missed the warmth of his body even with only an inch of space between them. But she knew what he wanted her to do. She wanted to, too. So she rolled with him a little, scooted until she was lying on her back and Jack was on his side.<\/p>\n<p>He wasted no time kissing her, unbuttoning her shorts, tucking his hand down her pants, then sweeping up again, under her tank, to her bra, which he popped without hesitation. She moaned into his mouth when he cupped one breast, pulled his thumb teasingly over her hard nipple.<\/p>\n<p>His tongue was all smooth chocolatey goodness. \u201cMmmm,\u201d she breathed low in her throat, from her chest, raising her hand to lay along his jaw and caress his cheek with her thumb.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou gonna teach me how to play your keys?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo talking,\u201d she whispered back.<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t hear his chuckle. She felt it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs it because I can\u2019t see your magic trick?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAmong other things,\u201d she murmured absently around his lips and tongue. \u201cShut up.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cToo bad the bed\u2019s too small for me to show off my eating-outing skills.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Stop talking.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI like talking to you,\u201d he countered. \u201cWe like talking, remember? We can do that. We\u2019re smart. The derivatives turned you on. They turn me on, too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She broke the kiss and pulled away a little. \u201cDo you want to talk or make love? Because I can\u2019t do both.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His roving hand stilled. \u201cYou can\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHuh. That\u2019s interesting. I\u2019ve never been with a woman who didn\u2019t talk during sex.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Now she was irritated. \u201cMaybe they just talked because you wanted them to.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He began caressing her belly again, stroking up to her breasts again. \u201cNah,\u201d he muttered, kissing her again. \u201cWomen just like to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, <em>I<\/em> don\u2019t,\u201d she snapped against his mouth. \u201cI am officially not in the mood anymore, so now we can chat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re <em>serious?!<\/em>\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCheck and see,\u201d she retorted.<\/p>\n<p>He did, tucking his hand down her panties again. Where he had met no resistance before, now he did.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOuch. Be careful.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAw, shit,\u201d he spat and rolled away to flop on the bed beside her. \u201cDaisy\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShut up,\u201d she snapped. \u201cThis is the <em>second<\/em> time you have talked me dry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSecond?!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe day we found the kids? In the cab? We were kissing? You asked me to go home with you? <em>Right then?<\/em> I said yes? I told you to stop talking? Twice? But you kept talking?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWait a minute. You mean you weren\u2019t pissed about what I said about being done with Ramona et al?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBoth. I was ready and more than willing to hit the sheets, but you just couldn\u2019t keep your fat trap shut after I <em>told<\/em> you to stop talking. The \u2018I was done with them\u2019 was a cooler full of ice water getting dumped on me. Why can\u2019t you just do what I tell you to do?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t follow <em>anybody\u2019s<\/em> orders,\u201d he hit back.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight, because you\u2019re <em>unique<\/em> and <em>special<\/em>. You\u2019re not going to get laid, but\u2014\u201d She dropped her hand on his denim-covered crotch and rubbed his hard-on, making him sigh. \u201c\u2014your pride and ethics are still intact! So it\u2019s all good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, you can be such a bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>That<\/em> she wouldn\u2019t tolerate, and she sat up to crawl over him to the little ladder.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat the hell\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Hurt, she snarled, \u201cYour mouth is going to get you killed one of these days. Hopefully tomorrow. <em>Ramona<\/em> and <em>Paula<\/em> and <em>Val<\/em> might put up with your bullshit, but I\u2019m not. Oh, wait. No, Val is <em>not<\/em> going to put up with your bullshit. She\u2019s going to <em>murder<\/em> you for your bullshit.\u201d She dropped to the floor and patted it, looking for her shoes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHome,\u201d she snapped, plopping on the meager spot of floor and started to struggle with the knot in her shoestring.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Home?<\/em> To <em>Kansas?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is where my home is, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd leave me here?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She barked a laugh. \u201cWhy, <em>yes<\/em>. Because it\u2019s you\u2014you\u2014you and how <em>pure<\/em> you are if it involves money. But you\u2019re a complete sociopath when it involves women\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSociopath?! What the fuck?!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGet yourself out of your own mess, Mr. Big Swinging Dick. The mess you made because you swung your dick too many places.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd you think you can get out of the city now?\u201d he demanded. The bed swayed as he shifted and hung over the rail.<\/p>\n<p>She rolled her eyes, but gnashed her teeth at the knot that would not come undone. The one in her shoestring. And soul. \u201cDo you honestly think I can\u2019t get off this provincial little island without being caught? Not only don\u2019t they know what I look like except for my adorably cute butt, they don\u2019t know what I\u2019m driving. I have my purse, my toothbrush, and a couple of changes of clothes in my saddlebags. I can leave <em>now<\/em> and Sebastian will bring my stuff home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can see how a Harley with Kansas tags would be inconspicuous. What the fuck is up your ass? Beside the fact that I killed <em>your<\/em> hard-on?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNormally, I take \u2018bitch\u2019 as a compliment, especially when we\u2019re on equal ground, but I\u2019m not going to tolerate it from a bottom who can\u2019t be bothered to think up something more \u00e0 propos\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Bottom?!<\/em>\u201d he nearly bellowed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014like, \u2018Anything you say, Dr. Charbonneau. <em>Ma\u2019am<\/em>.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She could hear his teeth gnashing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFurther disclosure, and only to make my point: Not only am I adept at cooking books and falsifying my tax returns, I <em>also<\/em> helped my dad build and run a <em>very<\/em> illegal underground operation. Family business. I will give you a hint: The only thing it did <em>not<\/em> involve was drugs. I made the IRS my bitch before I could vote.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Silence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe financial equivalent of what you do to women would be selling shares in what you <em>know<\/em> is a Ponzi scheme.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is not true,\u201d he hissed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat requires a certain level of na\u00efvet\u00e9 and-or stupidity, right? <em>Men<\/em> so vulnerable or desperate to believe in the promise of hitting the lottery. You get your commission. They lose their retirement and take their families with them to sleep under a bridge and eat cat food.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI would <em>never<\/em> do that.\u201d His voice thrummed with rage, but she knew he\u2019d think about it for a while.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhatever you feel about what Brenda did? Put my sins up against yours, and I\u2019ve been playing T-ball. You\u2019re in the major leagues, using women like a paper towel to wipe your dick off.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, you know what? Fuck Sebastian!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI <em>would<\/em>,\u201d she said airily, \u201cbut he\u2019s not my type. He\u2019s a <em>nice<\/em> guy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack hissed at her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd he wasn\u2019t going to stand by and let you fuck <em>over<\/em> a friend without warning her what she was getting into. So here I am, finding out he <em>wasn\u2019t<\/em> exaggerating what a shit you are. God, I can\u2019t believe I was going to\u2014 I didn\u2019t know I was <em>that<\/em> desperate, that I\u2019d have sex with you like one of your cheap whores.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Finally he spoke. Softly. \u201cIs that what you think?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat your women are cheap whores? Yes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, that I think you\u2019re like Ramona or Paula or Val.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, I haven\u2019t given you much reason to think I\u2019m <em>not<\/em>, now have I?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI <em>never<\/em> thought of you in that way, from the moment I first saw you. You\u2019re not an opportunistic viper, for one. You\u2019re a <em>nice girl<\/em>.\u201d He said that as if he had always wanted one of those. \u201cSmart. Funny. Piano shopping, for God\u2019s sake. Who does this?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Virtuosos<\/em>, jerkwad.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, that\u2019s another thing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you care? You <em>hate<\/em> what I play.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo what? I like that you <em>do<\/em> it. Also, I spend a lot of money on my girlfriends, so everything being equal, they\u2019re <em>not<\/em> cheap. I would\u2019ve bought your piano for you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere is <em>no<\/em> amount of money that would make them not-cheap and I would <em>never<\/em> take a gift from a guy I\u2019d had sex with.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>More silence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat, <em>now<\/em> you\u2019re speechless?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She felt his fingers brushing her curls, swirling through them, soft, slow. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he muttered, and she could hear in his voice what a difficult thing that had been for him to say.<\/p>\n<p>But now she didn\u2019t know what she was supposed to say because he hadn\u2019t reacted to her confession the way he\u2019d reacted to Brenda. \u201cI\u2019m not having sex with you,\u201d she muttered. \u201cYou screwed the pooch\u2014<em>again<\/em>\u2014and I don\u2019t want bitch-in-heat all up inside me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He sighed heavily, but he cupped her cheek and caressed her cheekbone with his thumb, which felt so, so good. The touch of another human, warm, gentle, caring&nbsp;\u2026 She dropped her shoe, and her head, bracing her torso with her elbows on her knees.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI wouldn\u2019t blame you if you left,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat was <em>almost<\/em> convincing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He took his hand away. \u201cIs there <em>anything<\/em> I can say right now that you\u2019ll believe?\u201d he asked wearily.<\/p>\n<p>She hooted. \u201cYou\u2019re a salesman! Salesmen <em>lie<\/em>. You have an abundance of salesman\u2019s charisma you use like a knife.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy <em>charisma<\/em>,\u201d he drawled sarcastically. \u201cLike your eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She ignored that. \u201cAnd, unlike everybody else, I have no vested interest in believing you, whereas <em>you<\/em> have a vested interest in keeping me around.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd what\u2019s been your vested interest in sticking around?\u201d he shot back. \u201cBesides my pretty face, gutter mouth, and talented dick?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gulped and was glad for the darkness so he couldn\u2019t see her flush. Yes, he had an over-the-top charisma that attracted her, but there was more.<\/p>\n<p><em>I hate you<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>It was the cracks in his ego showing through because he <em>liked<\/em> her and he didn\u2019t want to, especially because of her financial impurity. But they talked. He <em>enjoyed<\/em> her company. She couldn\u2019t remember the last time she\u2019d been sexually attracted to a smart, clever, charismatic man who could <em>think<\/em> and simply enjoyed her company. Every time he fell on his face with her, he came back again.<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t know if he was stubborn, challenged, or narcissistic, but that had never happened before, and she <em>wanted<\/em> him to not fall on his face again. She wanted him to\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTell me,\u201d she said low, \u201cyou would be able to tell if I faked an orgasm.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Silence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd then tell me you would care if I came or not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI would care,\u201d he said immediately, softly, as if that were true and he was shocked and dismayed that it was true.<\/p>\n<p>She believed him. For whatever reason, she could hear the truth in the things that came out of his mouth. The same way he could see that her eyes were plain gray.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I wouldn\u2019t be able to tell,\u201d he admitted reluctantly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t know how to get me there if you could tell.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He sighed in what sounded like resignation. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It was when he confessed the truth she loved him the most.<\/p>\n<p>She closed her eyes and shook her head at herself. How many times had she convinced herself she was in love? How many times was it because she wanted a relationship with a charismatic man, because she just wanted to hear one say <em>I love you, Lydia<\/em>?<\/p>\n<p>Once.<\/p>\n<p>Just once.<\/p>\n<p>Sincerely.<\/p>\n<p>She was too old for that now. <em>How<\/em> old, she didn\u2019t know, but she\u2019d kept herself away from men for the last few years because she was tired of being unable to tell if she were being conned. She continued working at the knot.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy, come back. Hate me all you want, but get some sleep. I\u2019ll&nbsp;\u2026 sleep on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFine.\u201d He tensed and she laughed harshly. \u201cYou didn\u2019t expect that, did you? You wanted me to be all, \u2018Oh, no, it\u2019s okay.\u2019\u201d She said it in a bright chirpy voice. \u201c\u2018You can sleep with me. Or I\u2019ll sleep on the floor, no problem!\u2019 Like that\u2019s gonna happen.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He growled and slipped off the bunk, patted around to find a piece of floor he could fit on. She stood and climbed the ladder. \u201cThe whole bed to myself. Yahoo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have never met anyone like you,\u201d he grumbled, still pushing things around. \u201cMale, female. Sebastian has my number, but it suits his purpose to humor me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSebastian\u2019s the alpha in your relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Bull<\/em>shit,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n<p>That stung. She could hear it in his voice. \u201cLook, Jack. I\u2019d like to have sex with you, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo kidding,\u201d he snarled, \u201cwhich is why I\u2019m so pissed about your hot and cold.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014you have to earn it and every time I think maybe you have, you do something so assholey even <em>I<\/em> can\u2019t deal and you know how high my tolerance for assholes is. Honestly, I have no idea how women put up with you. That they do makes them cheap.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo wanting to fuck me means you think you\u2019re <em>not<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Exasperated, she sighed heavily. \u201c<em>I<\/em> am the top in this relationship.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is <em>bullshit!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She ignored that, too. \u201c<em>I<\/em> don\u2019t have to put out to get something out of you because you don\u2019t have anything to give me. Not even an orgasm. <em>You<\/em> are the bottom because you want your life back and I may be the only one who can give it to you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll I have to do is walk out the door,\u201d he snapped. \u201cYou don\u2019t run my life.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWould you rather sit <em>here<\/em> and be bored or sit in an interview room with a carafe of coffee, peeing your pants because they won\u2019t let you go to the bathroom because you\u2019re telling them about how you concocted an elaborate plan to kill Brenda?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re paranoid,\u201d he said flatly. \u201cI\u2019m going along with it because almost getting killed was a little traumatic and I\u2019d rather decompress with the person who was almost killed with me than have to think about and endlessly relay details.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She ignored that. \u201cAnd on top of it all, I just told you I don\u2019t have any problem participating in an underground economy and cheating the government, and you haven\u2019t given me a lecture, much less told me to get the eff out. And I certainly am not stupid or na\u00efve or desperate enough to buy into a Ponzi scheme.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think I\u2019m falling in love with you,\u201d he blurted.<\/p>\n<p>She snorted. \u201cHear that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy eyes rolling.\u201d Her heart thundering. Her blood racing. Her lungs struggling for air. He wasn\u2019t lying. He <em>believed<\/em> he was telling the truth, but he didn\u2019t really understand what falling in love really meant. Well, neither did she.<\/p>\n<p>Still, the words were out there in the open. <em>I think I\u2019m falling in love with you.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He started to chuckle. \u201cYou win. Hand me my pillow and a blanket, willya?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Without a word\u2014because she couldn\u2019t speak\u2014because she was breathless\u2014she swung the pillow over and smacked him in the head as hard she could.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDammit,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n<p>Then she dropped one of the knotted-up blankets on top of his head. Then she laid down on her side facing away from him, snuggled up with her linens and pillow, went to sleep&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>\u2026 and woke up with Jack against her, his ribs to her back. His breathing was slight except for a soft snore here and there.<\/p>\n<p>She smiled sleepily and let her eyelids drift closed again.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">17: EVEN FLOWERS HAVE THEIR DANGERS<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">HE WAS SO FUCKING pissed he could barely stand it, watching Daisy come out of the bathroom the next morning all damp, her antique gold curls dark and barely wavy, looking at Simon, laughing and smiling. Joking. She was clever and street savvy. The doc loved having someone cultured and educated around to trade jokes and match wits with. Their quips went right over Jack\u2019s head, which bugged him, but not enough to ask them to explain because it would take forfucking<em>ever<\/em> to get through the backstory on whatever high literature or music or movies they were referencing.<\/p>\n<p>He knew. He\u2019d made the mistake of asking. Once.<\/p>\n<p>And she had his number, had had it from the second she met him. She liked him because he couldn\u2019t see her magic trick. She\u2019d fuck him, but she could take him or leave him. She knew exactly where she was in the pecking order and, much as he hated that it was true, he liked that she knew it.<\/p>\n<p>What bugged him most was that he liked it that she shoved his face in it. He\u2019d taken down more than a few people who\u2019d had the chutzpah to assert their power over Jack, even if they were right. <em>You think you\u2019re the alpha? I\u2019ll let you think that&nbsp;\u2026 right before I send you to the poorhouse.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>No, Sebastian wasn\u2019t the alpha in his and Jack\u2019s relationship because they had different packs and sometimes they hunted together as a team. She knew that. She\u2019d said it to poke at him.<\/p>\n<p>It had worked because <em>right now<\/em> it was true, with Melinda dropping her own concerns to do Jack\u2019s job, Bucho dropping his to cover Jack\u2019s ass, Sebastian calling in his cousin on a second\u2019s notice to defend him, Knox abandoning his job to be here to take care of Jack, and Daisy dragging Jack all the way up from downtown to Spanish Harlem and keeping him hidden. Yeah, so what if she was up to her eyeballs in paranoia. It was the thought that counted.<\/p>\n<p>He wasn\u2019t lying when he told her he needed to decompress, but he didn\u2019t know where that had come from. It wasn\u2019t like he\u2019d thought about it. What he knew he <em>didn\u2019t<\/em> want to think about was that she was as shady as Sebastian could get, the same way he didn\u2019t want to think about what his lawyer might have\u2014fuck it, <em>did<\/em> do\u2014execution-style murder, for God\u2019s sake!<\/p>\n<p>He was in a position to have to be protected by people he\u2019d rather not know at all. Because he liked them and dammit this was why he kept people away from him. <em>Everybody<\/em> was like this.<\/p>\n<p>Even a little piano teacher from Kansas who looked like butter wouldn\u2019t melt in her mouth. Piano teachers were supposed to be pure! They <em>also<\/em> weren\u2019t supposed to wear tight leathers and ride motorcycles!<em> Why<\/em> couldn\u2019t she have been a fucking librarian?! A shady piano teacher who thought he was running a romantic Ponzi scheme.<\/p>\n<p>That hurt. In his gut, deep down where his ethics lived.<\/p>\n<p>He headed into the bathroom pissed off, unable to stay because he wanted to watch her and listen to her, which would cement her place in this relationship. God, he hated that so much. It wasn\u2019t even that she was a woman. He liked alphas, period\u2014as long as they worked for or against him or had a different pack. He just wasn\u2019t going to be <em>anybody\u2019s<\/em> beta.<\/p>\n<p>And now he was. To a chubby little piano player from fucking <em>Kansas<\/em> who had made it clear she thought New Yorkers were <em>provincial<\/em>. How in God\u2019s name anybody from Flyover, USA could consider New Yorkers <em>provincial<\/em> was beyond him, but this <em>person<\/em> from <em>Nowheresville<\/em>, Kansas knew <em>Jack\u2019s own city<\/em> better than Jack did and was giving him the grand tour.<\/p>\n<p>On a motorcycle.<\/p>\n<p>Where Jack was \u201criding bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He snarled at the faucet.<\/p>\n<p>He hated her. <em>Hated<\/em> her with every cell in his body. Hated every luscious curve and millimeter of smooth skin and strand of curl and\u2014<\/p>\n<p>God, he was going to come, the way he\u2019d been taking care of his hard-on since he met her, while he thought about how much he hated her and her deconstruction of his personality and her questionable accounting and her soft lips and hard nipples and wet pussy and cushy ass\u2014<\/p>\n<p>He moaned when he came, wishing he could have done it in that, that, that <em>person<\/em> he hated.<\/p>\n<p>And wanted.<\/p>\n<p>And was falling in love with.<\/p>\n<p>At least, he thought he was. He didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n<p>She was so not his type.<\/p>\n<p>She was <em>shady<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>He <em>hated<\/em> her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d he said when he finally left the bathroom to see her sitting at the table with the kids, whose faces lit up when they saw him. They scrambled off their seats to throw themselves at him.<\/p>\n<p>Daisy tried to hide her smile when he mouthed <em>I hate you<\/em> at her over their heads. She smirked and nodded, then went back to her breakfast, dismissing him.<\/p>\n<p><em>Hated<\/em> her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPick me up, Jack!\u201d Mary demanded.<\/p>\n<p>He rolled his eyes and did, hugging the child to him when she wrapped herself around him. He hated her too. And Jesus.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHowya doin\u2019, kid?\u201d he asked, ruffling the boy\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood,\u201d he said shyly.<\/p>\n<p>Jack had no idea how such a shy kid could get and be so tough on the streets, control Hurricane Mary, and run messages for gangsters without getting killed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy\u2019s taking us to the library today!\u201d Mary blurted. Right in Jack\u2019s ear.<\/p>\n<p>He slid a glance at Daisy, who had arisen to get a card from Simon. A New York Public Library card.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, really?\u201d he demanded. \u201cI got a price on my head and you\u2019re going to the library?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Daisy and Simon both turned to look at him as if he were an impertinent child. \u201cYes,\u201d Daisy said coolly. \u201cThe children and I need a break. From you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That needled him. \u201cWe\u2019ve only been together three days,\u201d he said testily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMaybe you should think about that,\u201d she said archly, and Simon laughed.<\/p>\n<p><em>Hated<\/em> her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI need your help again today, Jack,\u201d Simon said as she turned away. \u201cOther than the exam room, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That shocked him, and he put Mary on her feet. \u201cDoing what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI need to go run errands only I can do, and I need you to stay here and make sure nobody gets in. <em>Then<\/em> you\u2019ll help me rearrange and fetch and carry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAre you serious?\u201d he sniped, pissed off at being demoted to security guard and forklift.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf someone comes for treatment,\u201d Simon continued, ignoring him, \u201clet them in, make them as comfortable as possible. We have a lot to do today. That\u2019s why I let you sleep so long and there\u2019s coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>If<\/em> you know how to make it,\u201d Daisy said slyly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFuck you,\u201d he mumbled. It made her chuckle, but it made the kids give him a disapproving side-eye.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t say that to people you love,\u201d Mary said haughtily.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s eyebrows arched. \u201cAnd you would know this&nbsp;\u2026 how?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She folded her arms across her chest and harrumphed. \u201cJust because no one loves <em>me<\/em>\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOr me,\u201d Jesus said quietly.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s chest hurt.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2014doesn\u2019t mean I don\u2019t know what a family\u2019s supposed to do and not.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s got a point,\u201d Simon called.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe aren\u2019t a family,\u201d Jack said as calmly as he could, considering he was holding himself together by a cheap cotton thread. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t love her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe <em>could<\/em> be,\u201d she shot back. \u201cYou and me and Jesus and Daisy. A real family. And you do too love her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s jaw dropped on the floor and he was vaguely gratified that Daisy looked just as shocked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not gonna happen, sweetcheeks,\u201d Daisy said abruptly. \u201cNo, we <em>don\u2019t<\/em> love each other. We can barely tolerate each other. And I have a home a thousand miles away. A pretty little house I love. A job I love.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Both children gasped. \u201cBut your accent is from here,\u201d Jesus protested. \u201cIn Spanish.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have a <em>Cuban<\/em> accent,\u201d she corrected. \u201cI\u2019m in New York to interview for a job I didn\u2019t get and then this happened.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh,\u201d Mary said in a tiny voice. \u201cSoooo&nbsp;\u2026 you\u2019re gonna just&nbsp;\u2026 leave? When Jack can go home?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her gaze flicked up to Jack and she said, \u201cI have no reason to stay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>God, that hurt.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut you were kissing,\u201d Mary argued almost desperately. \u201cAnd you\u2019re sleeping together.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLove doesn\u2019t have much to do with that, which you should know by now, so forget your happy-family fantasies. I\u2019m going home. Jack\u2019ll go back to Wall Street and forget about us in a month. I thought you knew better than that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mary and Jesus deflated while Jack\u2019s head spun. Did she <em>really<\/em> think he could forget about her? Or the children?<\/p>\n<p>But&nbsp;\u2026 he couldn\u2019t <em>leave<\/em> them here. Let two kids in single digits stay on the street with no&nbsp;\u2026 anything? It was only because Daisy had thought of it that they had better clothes and food, made them take showers, brush their teeth, and read to them. Yes, Simon\u2019s floor or couch was available to them, her fridge and bathroom, too, but they didn\u2019t always take advantage of it nor did they do <em>anything<\/em> Simon told them to do. They didn\u2019t have to. <em>Somebody<\/em> in the neighborhood would feed them if they were hungry, let them crash, but what they did was their business. Everyone treated them like adults\u2014except Daisy. And Jack.<\/p>\n<p>Because they <em>weren\u2019t<\/em> adults. They were <em>children<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack?\u201d Mary whispered, looking up at him, her heart in her eyes.<\/p>\n<p>He looked back helplessly. \u201cI\u2014 Look. When we get out of this mess, you two are coming home with me. To stay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Daisy and Simon snorted at the same time, but the kids\u2014 They looked shellshocked, and then they did the damnedest thing.<\/p>\n<p>They clamped their mouths shut and went back to the table to eat their breakfast.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?!\u201d Jack demanded.<\/p>\n<p>The kids slid him a disparaging look, then continued to eat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019ve heard it before,\u201d Daisy said airily. \u201cYou aren\u2019t the first, won\u2019t be the last. Take the kids home and try family-hood on for size. Send \u2019em back out when the novelty\u2019s worn off. Or offer a forever home until they get out of hand and then decide they don\u2019t have time for high-maintenance kids who need therapy and medication, lots of love and attention, and are suddenly going to understand that a <em>home<\/em> and a <em>family<\/em> means rules and boundaries, which they\u2019ve never had. Take \u2019em home, they\u2019ll be crawling out the windows in two weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Okay, <em>maybe<\/em> he\u2019d been a little hasty and <em>maybe<\/em> he was a tad (a lot) relieved they didn\u2019t believe him. But he just couldn\u2019t <em>leave<\/em> them here.<\/p>\n<p>Could he?<\/p>\n<p>Jack was a dick. He knew this. He didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n<p>Jack ignored other people\u2019s feelings, needs, and desires. He knew this. He didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was unacquainted with poor people and if he thought about them at all, he thought about them as a collective, some giant ant colony. He knew this. He didn\u2019t\u2014<\/p>\n<p>Care.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t know what would happen when they got out of this mess. The best case scenario was that they all went back to whatever they were doing, but life didn\u2019t work that way. Or, he didn\u2019t think it did. For most people. Did it?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey <em>just<\/em> said they wanted us to be a family.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>With Daisy!<\/em>\u201d Mary wailed. \u201cCan\u2019t you make her wanna stay? Where you marry her and, and, and <em>everything!<\/em> A mommy and a daddy!\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Marriage?!<\/em> Was she <em>serious?<\/em> He said the only thing he could think of. \u201cDaisy\u2019ll be a mean mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s <em>not<\/em> mean,\u201d Jesus growled.<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s brow rose. <em>Maybe<\/em> this was a conversation he really didn\u2019t want to have. But he couldn\u2019t keep his mouth shut. \u201cShe gets on your case.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe likes to read to us and she can do it in Spanish.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Low blow.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood cop, bad cop,\u201d Daisy said airily. \u201cYou might take them home, but when you\u2019re done playing Daddy and the ego strokes don\u2019t scratch your itch, you\u2019ll throw them to half a dozen nannies who are paid to put up with them. <em>Mean<\/em> Mommy enforces boundaries then snuggles. <em>Nice<\/em> Daddy backs her up, goes off to provide for the family, comes home at night, and sits down to family dinner. The daddy and mommy love each other. The children know they\u2019re loved and protected and safe and cared for by people who aren\u2019t going to see them as warts. <em>That<\/em> is what they mean by a <em>family<\/em>, and neither one of us is capable of giving them that. They want us, you and me, together, Mommy and Daddy, lovers in love, parents at the dinner table, bedtime routine with kisses and glasses of water and stories, and that\u2019s not <em>ever<\/em> going to happen. They\u2019d rather stay here than set up shop with either of us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d go with you, Daisy,\u201d Jesus said low.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMe too!\u201d Mary said. \u201cAnd a nice little house with a mommy who loves us and\u2019ll take care of us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked at her, her expression one of shock. She\u2019d just backed herself into the same corner he\u2019d put himself in, only he had wiggle room because he had no credibility. She had no wiggle room because she had <em>all<\/em> the credibility.<\/p>\n<p>Mary looked at Jesus. \u201cBut maybe Jack\u2019d move in with us at Daisy\u2019s house.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat would be okay, too,\u201d Jesus said matter-of-factly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHold up,\u201d Jack said abruptly. \u201cFor the record, I am <em>never<\/em> getting married. We don\u2019t have time to get into this right now, but this discussion\u2019s not over.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The kids rolled their eyes and wouldn\u2019t talk to him when he got to the table and sat down, expecting breakfast\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGet off your butt and get it yourself,\u201d Daisy snapped. \u201cIt\u2019s been three days. Haven\u2019t you figured out nobody\u2019s here to serve you personally?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack opened his mouth to bark at her, but clicked it shut when he saw the kids\u2019 expressions. <em>Don\u2019t talk to Daisy like that.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He sighed and got up, got a dish out of the cabinet\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor heaven\u2019s sake, Jack! There\u2019s a dish in the rack. Use it and clean it after you\u2019re finished eating! I swear, you\u2019re such a spoiled brat.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He slid her a look that would\u2019ve withered anyone within ten yards of him downtown.<\/p>\n<p>She looked straight back at him, an eyebrow arched, just <em>waiting<\/em> for him to say something she could pounce on.<\/p>\n<p>God, she was gorgeous, standing there with the sun blazing in behind her, giving her a halo over those golden curls that had tightened up and lightened as they dried. He took her in slowly, from the top of her head to the ordinary gray eyes to the pouty mouth\u2014<\/p>\n<p>That she licked.<\/p>\n<p>On purpose.<\/p>\n<p><em>Fuck you<\/em>, he mouthed.<\/p>\n<p>She smirked and shook her head.<\/p>\n<p>And he continued with his perusal. The breasts he\u2019d held last night, full but firm, the hard nipple he wanted so badly to suck. The waist that nipped in too far for her hips and tits, and belly that pooched out, stretching her hippie blouse a little. The hips that widened too far out. The V between her legs where she could get wet and dry in a snap. The short but strong white legs and dainty feet with nails painted neon green.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s an ugly color,\u201d he said, pointing to her toes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI painted them especially for you,\u201d she cooed.<\/p>\n<p>Mary giggled. Jesus snorted then ducked his head.<\/p>\n<p>Jack didn\u2019t know what was happening to him and he wasn\u2019t sure he liked it, but he shot closer to her, shoved his hand in her curls, and kissed her.<\/p>\n<p>He was vaguely aware of the children hooting and catcalling, but he was very aware of the fact that, after the initial shock wore off, Daisy was kissing him back.<\/p>\n<p>And kissing.<\/p>\n<p>And kissing.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI could kiss you all day,\u201d he whispered, still kissing her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo talking.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Right. He\u2019d talked himself right out of sex last night.<\/p>\n<p>And last week.<\/p>\n<p>Which meant&nbsp;\u2026 they wouldn\u2019t be in this predicament at all if he\u2019d kept his mouth shut.<\/p>\n<p>That was a mistake he wasn\u2019t going to repeat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, okay, <em>Mommy<\/em> and <em>Daddy<\/em>,\u201d Simon said testily from across the room. \u201cI have things to do today. I need you three\u2014\u201d She waggled her finger amongst Daisy and the kids. \u201c\u2014gone, and him here to do some heavy lifting.\u201d She looked at Jack. \u201cYou can eat after they leave.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack was so stunned, the only thing he could do was stand there like an idiot and watch them dart out the door. Daisy was last after putting on her innocent little white tennies and putting her hair up in a topknot. She just breezed out the door without looking at him, without acknowledging his existence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEat,\u201d Simon said gruffly. \u201cI wasn\u2019t kidding about working your behind off today. Can\u2019t get any help around here so when I get some, I take it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack decided to keep his mouth shut.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">18: TOP<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">\u201cDAISY,\u201d MARY WHINED on their way to catch the train. \u201cWhy can\u2019t we be a family? You like Jack a whole lot and he likes you, too, and you can move here. It\u2019d be easy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStop it,\u201d Lydia said brusquely, still dizzy from the way they\u2019d dropped that on her head.<\/p>\n<p>Mary huffed and stopped cold, crossing her little arms over her little chest, as she did when she was pouting. Honestly, Lydia didn\u2019t know how she\u2019d lasted as long as she had on the streets acting like a spoiled brat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMary,\u201d Jesus crooned at her, rubbing her back.<\/p>\n<p>That was how.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJesus,\u201d Lydia said with as much calm and patience as she could muster.<\/p>\n<p><em>You just wait until you have kids, Buttercup. Then you\u2019ll see how easy it is.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou were right, Mingo,\u201d Lydia muttered, then turned her back on them both and continued walking down the street.<\/p>\n<p><em>You\u2019ve been saying that a lot this week. I like it. Say it again<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt again.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Brat.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She wouldn\u2019t get on the train without the children but they could damn well catch up to her by the time she <em>did<\/em> feel like getting on the train.<\/p>\n<p>Why wasn\u2019t her dad here with her? she thought resentfully as she trudged along, losing herself in a sea of people who were a lot more notable than she was. \u201cWhat do I do?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p><em>You know exactly what I want you to do.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Go home and take the kids with her.<\/p>\n<p>She wasn\u2019t surprised when she felt two smaller bodies snuggle up against hers while she walked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Daisy,\u201d Mary said in a small voice, slipping her hand into Lydia\u2019s.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI am not going to put up with your temper tantrums. This is <em>serious<\/em>.\u201d She looked at Jesus and said, \u201cStop coddling her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked cowed. \u201cCoddling?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPampering. Giving in. Trying to talk her out of her pouts. Spoiling her. How do you two manage to get through a day without getting yourselves in a peck of trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. He really didn\u2019t know, and probably couldn\u2019t explain it if he did. She held her hand out and Jesus took it.<\/p>\n<p>Taking the children home with her was also the most moral thing she could do and for whatever reason, the universe decided to make her responsible for the well-being of people who were powerless.<\/p>\n<p><em>I raised you to make moral choices, Buttercup.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaddy, this is permanent. I\u2019m still dealing with the fallout from the last moral choice I made to protect someone.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>But your conscience is clear.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>That was true. Mingo had always stressed the value of a clear conscience. Any other negative fallout was just crap one had to put up with.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019re talking the rest of my life here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Leaving them on the streets is immoral. Putting them in the system is immoral. Letting that dickhead take up hobby parenting is immoral.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t that she didn\u2019t want to take them home with her. It was that she would rather&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p><em>You\u2019re really going to fall for that \u2018I think I\u2019m falling in love with you\u2019 bullshit? Again? You aren\u2019t going to get the family you want out of that dick.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>They clipped down the subway stairs hand in hand, and she barely caught the two before they hopped the stile. She finished buying their MetroCards, then, on the platform she knocked the two of them together in front of her and squatted. \u201cDo not <em>ever<\/em> do that again,\u201d she growled. \u201cI have money. We will pay like normal people and we will pass for normal people, not <em>criminals<\/em>. Do you understand me?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Their eyes wide, their mouths turned down, they nodded.<\/p>\n<p>She was surprised when they still wanted to hold her hand as they waited for the train. They didn\u2019t stand out here at all. There were tourists with their children. There were children by themselves, albeit a little older than Jesus might be, who were horsing around a little, but well away from the train. Lydia was adorably cute. Adorably ordinary. Adorably forgettable. The kids blended in as well as she did.<\/p>\n<p>Once they were on the train, she squished herself in beside a man whose knees were spread out while he bent and read his paper. He protested.<\/p>\n<p>She looked at him and smiled a little. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to almost sit on you,\u201d she said breathily as she pulled Mary onto her lap.<\/p>\n<p>The man looked at her, shocked, then mumbled something about \u201cno problem\u201d and dragged his eyes away from hers. He didn\u2019t move his knees, but now it was because he wanted to touch her. She quelled a smile. Sometimes her eyes did that, made men want to touch her as if she were a magic lamp and if they rubbed enough a genie would pop out and grant three wishes.<\/p>\n<p>Jack didn\u2019t see it.<\/p>\n<p>And his idea of sweet nothings was \u201cI hate you\u201d and \u201cfuck you.\u201d The \u201cbitch,\u201d though\u2014 Jack appreciated clever vindictive bitchiness, but delivered the way he had last night, it was the insult of last resort for a man who felt powerless. Powerless men were not interesting, so she\u2019d poked and prodded at him to see how much he\u2019d take, which was&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>Not much.<\/p>\n<p>She touched her lips.<\/p>\n<p>He asserted his alpha whenever she tried to distance herself from him. Aaaaand she&nbsp;\u2026 liked it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy?\u201d Mary whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat, baby?\u201d Lydia asked quietly, again startled out of her bittersweet musings.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAre you mad at me?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mary didn\u2019t believe her, but it didn\u2019t matter. She trusted Lydia, which was all either child needed. Lydia pressed the child\u2019s head gently down in the crook of her neck and rubbed her shoulders. Jesus stood at the pole, stoic as usual, unwilling to sit anywhere that would take him any farther away from Lydia than he had to be because of that stupid man sitting next to her. Lydia spread her own legs and gestured for Jesus to come sit on her lap too. He did. Too eagerly for a street kid.<\/p>\n<p>That kid was a mess. He needed her more than Mary did. He needed more of everything than Mary did, and he kept giving her what little he had.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJesus,\u201d Mary whined.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStop it,\u201d Lydia said sharply, settling Jesus into her body, stifling a smile when he shifted and squirmed until the man next to them got up with a glare. But Lydia looked up at him. \u201cThank you so much,\u201d she murmured with a smile.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo problem,\u201d he said, irritated but what else could he say?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMary,\u201d she said, \u201csit here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With a huff, Mary got off her lap and plopped down in the vacated seat. \u201c<em>Mean<\/em> mommy,\u201d she muttered, folding her arms across her chest.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia snorted and had Jesus move to her other leg where she could cradle him against her shoulder. He wasn\u2019t much bigger than Mary.<\/p>\n<p>He needed so much.<\/p>\n<p>She wrapped her other arm around Mary and pressed her close too.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI miss you so much, Mingo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>Mingo? Still? C\u2019mon. You know I hate it when you\u2019re mad at me.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have been mad at you since you got yourself killed because you just couldn\u2019t keep your mouth shut. What is it with me and men who invariably shoot their mouths off at the wrong time?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>I am in no way like that dick.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cLittle bit too close to home, huh? <em>Mingo<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Silence.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou guys hungry?\u201d she asked quietly.<\/p>\n<p>They both nodded, which surprised her until she saw they were both falling asleep. So much for the library. By the time they got to their stop, both kids were zonked, and Lydia\u2019s leg was going to fall off. She managed to shift them around to a bench seat where they flanked her. Somehow Jesus managed to stretch out, his head in her lap, and Mary was once again in her arms, dead to the world, her thumb in her mouth.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia drew some annoyed glances. Some sympathetic ones. Some wry ones. Some disdainful ones. Some ridiculing ones. They rode all the way to Brooklyn, then all the way back to the Bronx. And a couple more times after that until rush hour. She awakened them a few stops from Wall Street because she was starving. The children were disoriented and frightened, snapping to attention and looking to bolt. She barely kept hold of them long enough to explain and get them off the train without losing them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t like it here,\u201d Mary whispered as dusk fell and they got mixed up with businesspeople going this way and that, but now Lydia had a plan.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know, Buttercup. We\u2019re going to go see my friend. He\u2019ll get dinner for us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She hoped.<\/p>\n<p>She had no idea if Sebastian would be at Blackwood Securities or his apartment, nor could she guess which one the police would be watching more, but she had to get to him somehow. There was a flash of a clock in a window of a pub. Six-thirty. Sebastian was a night owl like Lydia, so he might still be at work.<\/p>\n<p>They were walking against the tide, but too many people were too involved with their trade books and getting to their trains on time to pay attention to a down-market woman with two down-market kids, even when they slipped in through a door an after-hours worker was exiting.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cExcuse me,\u201d she said sweetly to a security guard. \u201cI\u2019m here to see Mr. Taight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s out of the office,\u201d the woman said disdainfully, looking Lydia up and down. \u201cIt\u2019s after hours. How\u2019d you get in here?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCould you please tell him Lydia is here? <em>Please?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The woman hesitated. She was a New Yorker. They were rude because they were so closely packed in they had to set some boundaries somehow. But sincere courtesy shocked them into doing what she wanted. Lydia was good at faking sincerity.<\/p>\n<p>She leaned forward and feigned confession. \u201cIt\u2019s about Mr. Blackwood,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p>The guard pursed her lips and squinted at her, studying her for a few seconds. \u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMr. Taight, please&nbsp;\u2026 Yes, hi, Mr. Taight. A woman named Lydia is here\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSend her up.\u201d That bark was so loud even Lydia could hear it. \u201cPrivate elevator. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia gave the guard an understanding smile when she flushed, taking her keys and leaving the desk to guide them to the elevator that went straight to the top. \u201cBless your heart,\u201d Lydia breathed gratefully. \u201cCan you&nbsp;\u2026 maybe&nbsp;\u2026 forget we were here? I\u2019m sure I can tell Mr. Taight how much of a help you\u2019ve been.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026 yes. Of course.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The elevator shot up so fast, Jesus plopped on the floor and tucked his face in his drawn-up knees. Mary, of course, thought it was awesome.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian met them at the elevator, but he did stall out when he saw the kids.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll explain later. Meantime, we\u2019re famished.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm, okay then.\u201d Then he surprised Lydia by taking Mary and hefting her up in his arms. She was even more shocked when Mary sighed happily and melted against him. The girl seemed to have a knack for knowing whom to trust, which was probably her real value to Jesus. \u201cBetter get him to the bathroom. He looks like he just ate bad fish.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked down and gasped. \u201cJesus, baby, c\u2019mon. Up you go.\u201d Jesus groaned. Sebastian disappeared for a second then shoved a trashcan in her hand.<\/p>\n<p>Jesus promptly used it.<\/p>\n<p>Except there was absolutely nothing in his stomach. Lydia sighed and waved to Sebastian to go. They were in Jack\u2019s private office and his private elevator that wasn\u2019t going anywhere, so she sat with Jesus and rubbed his back while they waited for Mary to come back with water.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cC\u2019mon, take a sip. That\u2019s right. Crackers?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan we go down the regular way?\u201d he asked miserably.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNope.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It didn\u2019t take as long for the executive restaurant to send up food as it did to get Jesus off the elevator floor and less green. Mary had made herself comfortable on top of an enormous desk overlooking Manhattan, which was now lit up against the darkness. But she wasn\u2019t looking at Manhattan. She was looking at Knox Hilliard, who was sitting at the desk covered in open law books, legal pads, and fountain pens, grilling him about what he was doing, where he was from, if he was Jack\u2019s friend. Knox was trying to be patient, but he looked beat to death, his young face looking much younger but also haggard, his perfectly coiffed hair from the press conference in tousled spikes. He was wearing a Rush hoodie.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMary,\u201d Lydia said with gentle firmness. \u201cMr. Hilliard is Jack\u2019s friend and lawyer. But he\u2019s been working very hard and he\u2019s very tired. Please let him do his job.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She was okay with that, but she held her hands out for Lydia to pick her up. The longer she was with Lydia and Jack, the more she regressed. Lydia had no idea how old Mary really was, but she was starting to act like she was four.<\/p>\n<p><em>She needs to be a child, Buttercup. No matter how hard you worked, you were still a child, still had a home and a family, still went to school and did things children do.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Lydia sighed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGet some sleep, pal,\u201d Sebastian said quietly to Knox, whose eyes, Lydia now saw, were red and bleary. She dug in her purse and pulled out her ever-present bottle of Visine and tossed it at him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks,\u201d he croaked as he arose and stumbled a little against the desk. Lydia looked at him warily, wondering where the suave and self-possessed lawyer had gone, if he was drunk or&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou sure you don\u2019t want to sleep here?\u201d Knox gave him a killing look, but Sebastian shrugged. \u201cMaybe you shouldn\u2019t be such a prude. He\u2019s got insomnia,\u201d Sebastian explained as Knox dragged himself out of the office. \u201cBut his brain stops working after about thirty-six hours. He\u2019s right around forty-eight hours.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s been awake since he got here?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian nodded. \u201cWe\u2019re waiting for our people to find Val. Until Jack pops up, it\u2019s really the only thing we can do.\u201d She gestured to the cluttered desk. \u201cThat\u2019s his caseload from back home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s mouth dropped open a little. \u201cHe\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWorking long-distance, yes. He\u2019s got a trial starting next week. Right now, he needs a few hours of whatever z\u2019s he can get.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh,\u201d she said in a small voice, humbled at the sacrifice, ashamed that Jack was upset with something Knox might have done. \u201cRelationships,\u201d Lydia whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d She shook her head and looked at Sebastian. \u201cLater. Val?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll tell you while we eat,\u201d Sebastian said while he stood at a table coaxing Jesus into crackers and Sprite. Once the rest of the food was laid out and all four of them were at the table and eating, Sebastian gestured to the kids and said, \u201cThese are your runners?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah, but I need cash and I don\u2019t trust them to bring all of it back.\u201d Jesus had the good grace to look guilty. \u201cI\u2019ve been buying food and clothes for us and the people we\u2019re staying with. They need a lot of resources, and I\u2019m about tapped out. I can pay you back, but I don\u2019t want to hit the ATM.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d he muttered and dug in his back pocket for his wallet. Jesus\u2019s eyes went wide when he saw the hundred-dollar bills fan out. Sebastian didn\u2019t notice, but Lydia did, watching all that money like it was a hunk of beef.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJesus,\u201d Lydia said sternly.<\/p>\n<p>He looked at her, startled, then flushed and took a cautious bite of loaded baked potato.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t have to eat it now. We can take it when we go.\u201d She looked at Sebastian. \u201cBut if you can order more and doggie bags, I\u2019d like to take it to the people we\u2019re staying with.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian handed her the bills and headed to the phone to do just that.<\/p>\n<p>Finally, Lydia felt like she could relax after a day of forcing herself to be hyperaware of everything and everyone, letting the kids sleep without fear, being rocked by the rhythm of the trains.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNews on your end?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack\u2019s uncle dropped a few words in the right ears. Melinda\u2019s handling the board of directors. They\u2019re not <em>un<\/em>happy Bucho and I are pulling so much weight so long as neither of us have nefarious intentions. But since Jack is either in trouble or a target for murder, they don\u2019t know if they want to get in the middle of that. Generally, money trumps fraud, but not murder.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t tell me that hasn\u2019t happened.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey don\u2019t do it themselves,\u201d he said testily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes that make me an accomplice?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian shrugged. \u201cIt could be argued that you were duped. So the cops have been crawling all over the last two days, but nobody\u2019s been here today. I can\u2019t rule out the possibility they\u2019ll show up tonight, but we\u2019ll have warning so you can get in Jack\u2019s private bedroom.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia\u2019s lip curled, and Sebastian laughed. \u201cAlready tired of him, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019re sleeping together,\u201d Mary volunteered. Sebastian\u2019s eyebrow shot into his hairline and Lydia\u2019s mouth flattened while shaking her head wearily. \u201cAnd you should\u2019ve seen \u2019em kissing this morning!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia rolled her eyes and she slumped when Sebastian grinned. \u201cRemind me, next time I\u2019m falling on my face with a woman, to get almost-murdered in front of her and then go on the lam with her. That\u2019ll get me laid, for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia shrugged and continued to eat. Then she sat up and blurted, \u201cHe will not shut his fat mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian burst out laughing.<\/p>\n<p>She slammed her fork down on the table because now that she and the kids were safe, they were marginally rested, and had some good food in their bellies, she could indulge her mad. \u201cGet me some duct tape tomorrow, and that\u2019s not a joke. Jerk can\u2019t <em>stand<\/em> not being the center of attention.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian was still laughing, leaning back in his chair, his hand over his mouth. He couldn\u2019t stop laughing, which also annoyed her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe said we could go live with him when we got everything okay again,\u201d Mary announced.<\/p>\n<p>That shut Sebastian right up. \u201cCome again?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe said me and Jesus could go live with him when he went back home. All of us. Daisy, too. And we can be a family. <em>Please<\/em>, Daisy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian looked at Jesus, who nodded soberly, then at Lydia, who shrugged. \u201cHe <em>also<\/em> said he would <em>never<\/em> get married\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That hurt. The whole <em>situation<\/em> hurt. \u201cAnd living together without the piece of paper, but still acting like we are is <em>the same thing<\/em>. They know better than to believe that. <em>I hope<\/em>,\u201d she added pointedly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was just <em>saying<\/em>,\u201d Mary muttered sulkily.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid he really say that?\u201d Sebastian asked quietly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s <em>confused<\/em>,\u201d Lydia said, her comments directed mostly at the children. \u201cDisoriented. Pissed off. Talking to hear himself. I don\u2019t know if that\u2019s just him or a nervous tic.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d Lydia hesitated to make this request because it would be a huge pain in the butt for Sebastian and his crew, but&nbsp;\u2026 \u201cYou said Jack has a bedroom here?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe can\u2019t stay here,\u201d Sebastian said sharply. \u201cYes, it\u2019s well camouflaged, but I don\u2019t want to take any chances.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t mean him. I meant them.\u201d She tilted her head toward Jesus, then Mary. \u201cThey\u2019ve done well, but Jack and I want them off the streets. It\u2019d be nice if they had a safe place to stay while we get this all sorted out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian pursed his lips and worried them with his fingers while he looked between them. \u201cI\u2019ll take them back to my apartment tomorrow,\u201d he said thoughtfully.<\/p>\n<p>Mary\u2019s legs started pumping. \u201cWe get to go home with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t live here. It\u2019s temporary.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jesus and Mary exchanged sober glances.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll get a temp nanny or something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That was when they deflated.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGet a kind grandmotherly type, you know, one who\u2019ll read to them. They like that.\u201d Lydia watched them, wishing she could just&nbsp;\u2026 leave.<\/p>\n<p>New York.<\/p>\n<p>Roll back a week, before she\u2019d met Jack.<\/p>\n<p>Roll back three weeks, before she\u2019d left home.<\/p>\n<p>Roll back a year, before a powerless person had turned Lydia\u2019s life upside down and forced her to make a <em>moral<\/em> choice that would haunt her for the rest of her life.<\/p>\n<p>The children were looking back at her soberly. \u201cSebastian\u2019s place is really nice,\u201d she said as kindly as possible, but she knew: No matter how much they might like Sebastian, no matter how safe they\u2019d be, how good the food, how wonderful their lives would be from here on out, leaving them was the most cruel thing she could do to them. They thought she was punishing them for making their wishes known.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t you want us, Daisy?\u201d Mary asked softly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI do,\u201d she answered immediately, just as softly. \u201cBut right now the biggest thing is to get Jack out of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d Jesus asked quietly \u201cYou keep saying you don\u2019t like him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s a good question,\u201d Sebastian murmured.<\/p>\n<p>Mary slapped Jesus\u2019s arm. \u201cShe does <em>too<\/em> like him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia was about to reprimand Mary, but Jesus swung around and got in her face with an ugly snarl that shocked the hell out of Lydia. Mary quailed, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Jesus,\u201d she whispered, half terrified.<\/p>\n<p>Yeah. Motherhood. These kids.<\/p>\n<p><em>They are a little more messed up than you were, I\u2019ll admit.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>A lot more. And there were two of them.<\/p>\n<p><em>That\u2019s true.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>And Lydia lived alone with no backup.<\/p>\n<p><em>They can take care of themselves. You couldn\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Good point.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay, then,\u201d Sebastian said with fake enthusiasm when Jesus had resumed calmly eating his dinner. Mary was quiet, withdrawn. Scared.<\/p>\n<p>So that was how he did it.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia wondered what he\u2019d done that put the fear of God in her like that.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou two aren\u2019t going back out on the street to live,\u201d Sebastian continued, \u201cand you\u2019re not going to foster care. Somehow, some way, you\u2019ll have a permanent home with one of us. Understood?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They both looked at him with wary hope that didn\u2019t make Lydia\u2019s heart hurt because she knew they <em>would<\/em> get taken care of, if not by Lydia, then by Sebastian.<\/p>\n<p><em>Oh, hey, that\u2019s a good idea. Why can\u2019t you hook up with that guy?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>But they had given <em>her<\/em> the ultimatum. What to do, what to do.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey\u2019ll need therapy,\u201d Lydia said low.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat went without saying.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNeither one of them knows how to read. They know streets. Numbers. Stations. Or they may just have a map of Manhattan in their heads; I don\u2019t know. They can add on their fingers.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There was no more conversation as Lydia and the children ate their fill, and Lydia packed up the rest of the food for her return trip. She meant to leave before eight, but the children didn\u2019t want to let her go, so Sebastian opened a camouflaged door and let the children loose in what seemed to be a stark but very masculine bedroom. Mary squealed in delight when he told them they could spend the night there, and Sebastian would sleep on the office couch. Even Jesus seemed to be bouncing around.<\/p>\n<p>From where she stood looking out on Manhattan with a good beer in her hand, her back to the bedroom door, she could hear the kids\u2019 excited chatter.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat are <em>these<\/em> for?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUm, games.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat <em>kind<\/em> of games, Sebastian?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUh&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOooh, fuzzy bracelets and feathers and pretty ribbons and\u2014what\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA&nbsp;\u2026 riding crop.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Which was probably why Knox didn\u2019t want to sleep there and exactly why Lydia didn\u2019t want to see it, why she wasn\u2019t in there helping Sebastian get them through a bedtime ritual that didn\u2019t exist\u2014for any of them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you do with it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s for&nbsp;\u2026 um. Horses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack has <em>horses?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia almost snorted beer out her nose.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, hey, you guys need to brush your teeth and take showers. I\u2019ll get you soap and toothpaste, and find some shirts for you to sleep in.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked at the reflection of Sebastian herding them, being a benevolent tyrant and getting them to obey without much fuss, and she was a little surprised. Good cop <em>and<\/em> bad cop rolled into one. She\u2019d never have guessed Victoria\u2019s cousin would turn out to be a natural dad.<\/p>\n<p>When he was done, the kids were clean, swamped in Jack\u2019s tee shirts, in the king size bed, and already snoring. Sebastian closed the door except for an unobtrusive crack then joined her at the window with a glass of Scotch.<\/p>\n<p>Two.<\/p>\n<p>She took hers and knocked it back, grimacing against the heat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat bad?\u201d Sebastian said quietly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m in love,\u201d she said baldly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cHe\u2019s funny.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUmmm&nbsp;\u2026 Jack? Are we talking about the same person?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYep,\u201d she said with a sad sigh. \u201cHe\u2019s not <em>trying<\/em> to be funny. But his personality is just so&nbsp;\u2026 over the top. His mind is so <em>quick<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSleeping together?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNecessity. The deed has not been done. His mouth ran a little too far last night.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian laughed. \u201cAgain.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo man deserves as many chances as I give him and yet&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d She trailed off. \u201cI can almost predict everything that\u2019s going to come out of his mouth and it\u2019s <em>still<\/em> funny.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHuh. And he can\u2019t see the thing you do, so he can let his mouth run off without getting his soul sucked out.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That made Lydia laugh. \u201cWe already came to the conclusion that men with no soul can\u2019t see it. He considers himself special, having no soul.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat about his promise to the kids?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe means it. For now. He\u2019s grateful. He doesn\u2019t know how to show it. He doesn\u2019t even know what it is, and it\u2019s making him pissy. He likes them, has a protective streak a mile wide, but he doesn\u2019t really know what to do with it. He\u2019ll take them, I have no doubt, but he\u2019ll have them with nannies in two weeks and then he\u2019ll think he\u2019s done this wonderful thing by plopping them in a gilded paradise with people who are paid to put up with them. Jesus is walking around with a permanent case of shellshock, whatever they call that now, and he\u2019s abnormally small for his age. Mary\u2019s\u2014 She\u2019s just like Jack.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He threw his thumb over his shoulder. \u201cAnd that little tussle at dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJesus coddles her. Spoils her rotten. Hangs back, lets her have the first pick of anything. Takes care of her. I thought he was, well, henpecked, for lack of a better word. Jack and I were wondering how he controls her, how they stay out of trouble. I guess I know now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow do they feel about Jack?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia bit her lip. \u201cThey love him,\u201d she whispered, then wiped the corner of her eye with a knuckle. \u201cTrust him. But not that far.\u201d She told him the whole conversation, to which he replied,<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo you\u2019re going to take them home with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah. I was a foundling and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He started. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded. \u201cMy father would expect me to take them in because he took me in. He would consider it immoral for me to leave them in less than ideal circumstances and Jack is less than ideal.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLeave aside what your dad would think. Do you <em>want<\/em> to?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gulped. \u201cI&nbsp;\u2026 want&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;\u201d She took a deep breath and puffed her cheeks out when she exhaled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou want what they want. All four of you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her mouth twisted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIn general or with Jack?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She pulled her lips between her teeth.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit. Well, you\u2019re not going to get it,\u201d he said bluntly.<\/p>\n<p>She was silent for a long time. \u201cHe said he was falling in love with me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian said nothing, but in the reflection she could see his mouth purse. \u201cDo you believe him?\u201d he asked slowly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He slid a look down at her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can tell when he\u2019s lying. I can tell when he doesn\u2019t understand a concept or understands it superficially. I can tell when he pops off just to hear himself talk. What I <em>can\u2019t<\/em> tell is when he\u2019s lying to <em>himself<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe doesn\u2019t lie to himself so much as he mislabels things because he doesn\u2019t have the time or patience to think about it, but it has the same result.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think he truly believes he\u2019s falling in love with me because I\u2019m a novelty and, at the moment, the alpha.\u201d Sebastian snorted. \u201cHe truly believes he can take care of the kids when this is all over with. I also think he\u2019s lying to himself\u2014yes, he does\u2014by believing he can maintain those feelings over time and do what it takes to follow through. The drudgery of everyday life with kids.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian nodded slowly. \u201cI can see why you would think that, but one thing: He has <em>excellent<\/em> followup if it\u2019s important to him. He\u2019s still juggling balls he put in the air twenty years ago that don\u2019t add to his bottom line at all.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich doesn\u2019t say anything about me or the kids.\u201d She paused. \u201cHe\u2019s just your run-of-the-mill narcissist.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, he\u2019s not. He\u2019s hyperactive.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That gave her a bit of pause. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s not a narcissist. He\u2019s trying to protect the storage space in his brain.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This was a new concept for her. She could stuff a lot of music and curriculum in her brain. Yet&nbsp;\u2026 there was that moment a few nights ago when she could only remember <em>one<\/em> song to sing to Jesus.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m not twitchy like he is, but my mind goes a thousand miles a minute. I\u2019m sympathetic. The\u2014what you\u2019re calling narcissism\u2014at least for me\u2014is a wall to protect my mind from having more stuff being forced into it by other people. My mind is a suitcase you have to sit on to close, but it\u2019s so packed you can\u2019t. You said his mind is quick. It\u2019s not quick. It\u2019s a centrifuge running at max, spinning too fast to put more in it and expect it not to fly out.\u201d He paused. \u201cIt runs in my family. I can deal with Jack because he\u2019s so much like us. Like me. I have coping mechanisms. I know how and when to take time to unpack my mind so I can go on. Jack has no coping mechanisms because he is the way he is and doesn\u2019t think about it. I know when to back off. I know when to get others to back off. I also know when to step in and get him to a place of hyperfocus so he can work well. Cleanly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat do you mean by <em>cleanly<\/em>? He prides himself on working cleanly already. <em>He<\/em> thinks the justice system will treat him fairly because he\u2019s the alpha of Wall Street because he works <em>cleanly<\/em>. He doesn\u2019t want <em>special<\/em> treatment, just <em>fair<\/em> treatment. He doesn\u2019t believe that his skin color makes any difference whatsoever even though he has proof it does. He thinks his financial standards will grant him the benefit of the doubt because his ethics are the highest virtue of man and that everyone else should share that opinion.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHis standards are unreasonable and he\u2019s not pure. He calls the people he cares about allies so he doesn\u2019t feel like he got in the middle of something the way the rest of us do. When I say \u2018cleanly,\u2019 I mean without making mistakes. You can tell how nervous he is by how calm he gets. His mouth stops running, his body stops twitching. The quieter he gets, he\u2019s feeling the pressure. Thing is, he does his best work like that. He\u2019s clear-headed. Focused on one thing. Most of the time, his mouth runs and he\u2019s bouncing around because he\u2019s got so much extra energy that it has nowhere to go. When he\u2019s <em>on<\/em>, it all gets poured into the thing he\u2019s concentrating on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia remained silent to think about that, about the way he\u2019d returned from an hours-long pickup game with half a dozen teenagers after running them all into the ground. \u201cThat makes a lot more sense,\u201d she said slowly. \u201cIt sounds like hell, though. How do you not go crazy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged. \u201cWhat makes you think we don\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia looked up at him. \u201cHow do you know when Jack is?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhen he needs a fix, he\u2019ll switch over from bonds to derivatives, but when he goes over the edge, he starts making bad trades. Lots of them. In quick succession.\u201d Sebastian hesitated. \u201cHe starts fucking questionable women. Lots of them. Which is why he\u2019s in this mess.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She pursed her lips and looked out at Manhattan. \u201cHe\u2019s gone over the edge,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe went over it before he met you. That\u2019s why I\u2019m here, to get him back from the edge and keep him there until he works through the hangover.\u201d He paused. \u201cIt\u2019s like he\u2019s looking for something <em>other than<\/em> a gambling fix and he starts panicking because he knows he needs to get back to business quickly, but he\u2019s obsessed with the brass ring, whatever that is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia blinked. She knew that feeling. All too well. \u201cAn unfinished sneeze.\u201d Orgasm.<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian\u2019s brown wrinkled. \u201cYeah,\u201d he drawled thoughtfully. \u201cYeah, kinda like that. He didn\u2019t go off the edge before his coup last year. He could get his fix in a couple of days once a month or so and never lose money, make millions of dollars in a few hours. Now he\u2019s trying to do two hundred-hour-a-week jobs and he\u2019s torn in about a thousand directions. That\u2019s when he started losing money and taking him a week or more to do it. This time, it was two weeks. Honestly, nobody else would be able to juggle as many balls as he can, so I\u2019m impressed. Melinda can keep him level for a while, but she doesn\u2019t really understand how it works, so she can\u2019t get him where he needs to be. That\u2019s when she calls me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re his coping mechanism.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian nodded. \u201cI can help you try to pull him back, but you\u2019re pretty much on your own if you\u2019re going to stick with him. Why you would want to is beyond me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m stupid. Desperate. Wanting to feel special and loved by guys exactly like Jack. That appeals to me, the flashy charm, the vulgar humor, the quick repartee. In my mind, I know those guys don\u2019t feel love, especially the way a woman needs it, but I keep trying, keep thinking I can be The One.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s just&nbsp;\u2026 he\u2019s brilliant and I <em>need<\/em> that in a man. The sex is a perq. His looks\u2014 I wouldn\u2019t care if he looked like Freddy Krueger. It\u2019s the conversation I crave with a brilliant guy who\u2019s also outrageous and over the top. That\u2019s the kernel of my attraction. Like he\u2019s a window display at Christmastime, filled with pretty sparkly things put together by a brilliant designer. I want to crawl inside him and play with all his sparkly things.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s interesting. Not healthy, but interesting.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd he\u2019s any healthier.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian laughed. \u201cTouch\u00e9.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJust talking to him,\u201d Lydia said softly, \u201cis a treat. I&nbsp;\u2026 If I thought he would call me when I went home, or&nbsp;\u2026 um&nbsp;\u2026 Anyway, I haven\u2019t been that entertained in, well\u2014since Victoria moved to Spain. I could listen to him talk about math forever, even though I don\u2019t understand anything more complicated than a-squared plus b-squared equals c-squared.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian was quiet for a long time, a melancholy little smile on his face. \u201cIf you want to fuck him, fuck him. But don\u2019t think you\u2019re going to be the one he lets inside his display. There\u2019s no room for anybody but him.\u201d Lydia looked away, her eyes burning. \u201cIf you think <em>you<\/em> or anything about this mess is going to change the way he treats women, you\u2019re sadly mistaken. You may save his soul, but you aren\u2019t going to get a piece of it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia turned away from the window and went to sit on the couch. Sebastian stayed at the window. \u201cBut now I feel like I have to see this through, no matter how much I want to go home and pick up my life. I came here to audition for a job I shouldn\u2019t have had to audition for and somehow acquired two broken kids.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n<p>She shrugged. \u201cYou said you had news about Val?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, yes. We know her history now, but we don\u2019t know where she is. The address you gave us is no good. She hasn\u2019t worked for an airline since before she dumped Jack.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy is she upset if she dumped him?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe met a guy\u2014way older than her. High roller, which Jack wasn\u2019t then. Married him. From what we understand, she really did love him. There were no problems in the marriage. She was pregnant. Happy. Then her husband got stung when he was found to have been embezzling from his company.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Lydia sighed. She could almost predict the rest of the story. \u201cJack was the one who blew the whistle.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDude ate a gun before his trial started.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo we\u2019re dealing with a grieving widow, not an ex-lover.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMmm hm, one who lost her baby just after the memorial service.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, God,\u201d she groaned. Lydia had never been pregnant, but she could abstractly understand losing a child. She had once considered having a hysterectomy, but having her ability to have a child completely removed from her had sent her into a panic. Then she\u2019d sworn off men, so it wasn\u2019t an issue.<\/p>\n<p>Until now.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFinding her will be the easy part. Proving she pushed Jack is the hard part. Relatively speaking, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know what he\u2019s going to say when I tell him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou know,\u201d she mused looking down into her glass, \u201cit would be easy to throw yourself in front of a train if you\u2019re feeling hopeless. Even if it\u2019s not hopeless, you don\u2019t give yourself a chance to find out. It\u2019s like <em>right there<\/em>. You don\u2019t have to plan, don\u2019t have to get the tools, don\u2019t have to do anything. It\u2019s just so easy.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The glass mirrored his concerned expression. \u201cYou have those thoughts?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She shook her head. \u201cNo. I like my life, although the last year has sucked. Vicarious drama from all the society matrons I herd and my students. My colorful window display from my house and my car and my motorcycle and my wardrobe. Just one of many stories I hear when my students decide to unload on me. For some reason, I attract people like that. A lot of them think about it, freshmen mostly. They have time between deciding to do it and planning it to change their minds. But here&nbsp;\u2026 I can see these kids, standing there, looking at the yellow line, being scared of falling in, and then suddenly it occurs to them that falling in is their ticket to ride. The burden of planning is gone. One step and your problems are solved. If they think removing themselves will solve their loved ones\u2019 problems too, it\u2019s a no-brainer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Sebastian said nothing, letting her sit there for quite a long while, nursing her whiskey, tempted to lie down and sleep right there not because she was sleepy but because she was weary. She couldn\u2019t go back to Sebastian\u2019s because Knox was probably using the guest bedroom now that Lydia wasn\u2019t there. So she sighed and arose, put the glass on the table, picked up the huge bag of takeout boxes, and plodded toward the door.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks, Sebastian.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo problem. Don\u2019t be a stranger because I don\u2019t know how to get in touch with you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded and turned to the elevator. He gave her directions on how to get out of the building unseen, which turned out to be right by a subway stair. She clipped down it, refusing to think about having left the children with Sebastian and how Jack would feel about that.<\/p>\n<p>Wondering why he\u2019d even care.<\/p>\n<p>Wondering <em>why<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>It wasn\u2019t her problem. None of it was. She\u2019d inserted herself into it because&nbsp;\u2026 <\/p>\n<p><em>Why?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Was it, she wondered as she lounged in an empty car on her way uptown, because he couldn\u2019t see her aurora borealis?<\/p>\n<p>Was it, she wondered as she looked out into the darkness and back again at her reflection and worrying her lips, because he was <em>so<\/em> over the top?<\/p>\n<p>Was it, she wondered as she glanced at a man coming through the door of the car ahead of hers, because he amused her so much she couldn\u2019t resist all his shiny, sparkly IQ points and dirty quips?<\/p>\n<p>She didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n<p>Was it, she wondered, that she was really that cynical about and afraid of cops?<\/p>\n<p>That she could answer: Yes, she was <em>definitely<\/em> that cynical about and afraid of cops, especially since Jack couldn\u2019t keep his mouth shut any more than her father could. Her grief about Mingo\u2019s murder had resurfaced so hard and fast last year, it was taking up a third of her brain and it made her do stupid stuff.<\/p>\n<p>Her new carmate shifted in his seat, recalling her attention, but he didn\u2019t bother her. He sat slumped over, wringing his hands. Lydia tilted her head, caught by something, the same something that told her Ramona sabotaged her on purpose and that someone at Juilliard had a grudge. The same something any troubled student displayed when they were about to say <em>Dr. Charbonneau, can I talk to you?<\/em><\/p>\n<p>He was in plain jeans and tee shirt, and a tan patchwork shearling jacket from the seventies. She started to wonder about his story, but then remembered what city she was in and shook it off just in time. She\u2019d been at KU too long, that Midwestern helpfulness having taken firm root.<\/p>\n<p>Now she was wondering why she was even here. She had a perfectly good position at home where her stage fright was a non-starter because performance wasn\u2019t her value to anyone in the music world. She had <em>tenure<\/em> at&nbsp;\u2026 thirty-something. Her forged birth certificate said she was thirty-four.<\/p>\n<p>Was <em>Juilliard<\/em> a real goal or was it because she was&nbsp;\u2026 bored?<\/p>\n<p>Bored with Kansas, her very prestigious lifestyle that she <em>liked<\/em> because it was packed with fun things, but missing the sparkle of her youth\u2014and knowing she could approximate it in New York. All the sparkle without any of the relationship drama?<\/p>\n<p>Or did she just want to know if she could do it?<\/p>\n<p><em>None of the above. You\u2019re here because you\u2019re running away from the people who are making your life hell.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaddy, please.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>That\u2019s not a bad thing. Just don\u2019t lie to yourself. There is no dishonor in retreat if your only other option is losing, but that\u2019s not your only option. You can fight or you can run, but pick one and commit to it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>She had never wanted her dad back so badly as she had since she\u2019d come to New York. They\u2019d had their share of arguments, especially as she got older and snottier, with a firm grasp of where she was in the family business. She saw now, with time and experience, that snotty teenagers were hell, but ones who were brilliant and indispensable were their own special kind of hell.<\/p>\n<p>But college had knocked her on her face soon enough, where she was far from indispensable, where drawing an adoring crowd with disco hits wasn\u2019t valued, where lazy playing wasn\u2019t tolerated, where freshmen hotshots came to get weeded out. The faster the better. She hadn\u2019t dared flunk out and have to bear Mingo\u2019s disappointment\u2014anger\u2014that she\u2019d wasted her only real chance to get a good college education.<\/p>\n<p>She might have quit just out of a crushed self-esteem had she not been put in the freshman dorm with a strange girl from forty miles away whose parents had her on a very tight leash. Lydia could see why: She was barely sixteen, two years younger than most freshmen, looked like a runway model and dressed like one, too, had a French accent when she wanted one, an IQ in the stratosphere, and a knack for dating men twice her age and never getting herself in a jam.<\/p>\n<p>Victoria was a gift.<\/p>\n<p>She was as egotistical and outrageous as Jack, but she was carelessly kind even if she was unintentionally cruel about it. She wasn\u2019t hyper and she was quiet, so she could sit still and listen. Even when it didn\u2019t seem like she was listening she was listening. Thinking. Drawing conclusions, usually correct. She was a wise, experienced thirty-year-old trapped in a sixteen-year-old\u2019s body and seething with resentment at her parents. Not only could Victoria give Lydia all the sparkle she needed, she made college seem like a pebble she just had to step over.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia, Victoria had reminded her, was a <em>professional<\/em> musician in a business she had helped to build. Lydia had been hiring people and supervising them since she was thirteen. So what if Lydia hadn\u2019t come to college as a classical pianist? She could play by ear, improvise, and play in a band on a moment\u2019s notice, putting on a professional show without ever having played with the others.<\/p>\n<p>With a change of thinking and some hard work, she could graduate as a virtuoso. Her classmates would graduate as virtuosos but they still wouldn\u2019t be able to do anything Lydia had been doing for years, and would continue doing once she graduated. She didn\u2019t have to waste the rest of her life chasing stardom or teaching piano. She had <em>marketable<\/em> skills, both in business <em>and<\/em> music because at the very least, she could make a living wage as a session musician. The odds were, <em>none<\/em> of her classmates would ever be able to make a living as a performing musician of any sort and they didn\u2019t have a business-oriented brain cell in their heads.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia had left home at the top of the food chain of life.<\/p>\n<p>It was odd to hear her place in life articulated so precisely.<\/p>\n<p>And thoroughly empowering.<\/p>\n<p>Lydia had never doubted her place in the classical music world again.<\/p>\n<p>At a stop fairly close to hers, the stranger got up, startling her. She was distressed to see how long she\u2019d been spacing out, that she\u2019d allowed herself to space out on a New York subway alone, late at night.<\/p>\n<p>He turned toward her, his head bowed, but she looked closer and saw he was crying. Screw it. He needed some serious Midwestern TLC. Simon\u2019s was only ten blocks away, so Lydia got off the train behind him and followed him across the platform to the return train which was coming.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSir?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He kept walking.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSir, can you stop a minute? Please?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Kept walking. At the same sedate pace he\u2019d entered her car and exited. If he kept going\u2014 He wasn\u2019t slowing down\u2014 There was the yellow line right there and\u2014<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d she screamed and darted across the wide platform that he was just about to step off\u2014<\/p>\n<p>She cried out when the train hit him.<\/p>\n<p>Stared in horror at what happened when one <em>missed<\/em> the nose of the train.<\/p>\n<p>And then she ran.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">19: SWITCH<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">JACK WAS LYING IN BED, utterly and completely exhausted. He didn\u2019t think he\u2019d ever worked that hard in his life, not even when his dad gave him the weekend honey-do list. Not even eight teenagers and a couple of days serving as Simon\u2019s nurse had managed to wear him down like that. She must have saved up all those chores just for him because she\u2019d kept him lifting and hauling and rearranging all day. She had a plan and she\u2019d been waiting for the first opportunity to rearrange <em>everyfuckingthing<\/em> she owned.<\/p>\n<p>She owned a lot. It was all over Harlem. He knew. His dogs were barking from all the trips he made in the back alleys to get what she needed, disguised in jeans, a hoodie, and two teenaged bodyguards in case anybody recognized him.<\/p>\n<p>And she wasn\u2019t finished.<\/p>\n<p>The door opened and the light hit Jack\u2019s eyeballs like a bullet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy\u2019s back,\u201d Simon said low, \u201cbut she\u2019s a basketcase. Come see.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack bolted off the bed and out the door to see her curled up on the raggedy couch in a fetal position, rocking and sobbing, blubbering and choking, dribbling out words he couldn\u2019t understand. He panicked. What was he supposed to do with a hysterical woman? He looked to Simon questioningly, but she shrugged. \u201cWon\u2019t talk to me. Thought maybe you could do&nbsp;\u2026 something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re a doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Not<\/em> a psychiatrist. Salesmen are a lot closer to the insane asylum than an E.R. doc.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAw, shit,\u201d he whispered as he squatted in front of Daisy until his face was almost level with hers. Her eyes were squeezed shut and tears were pouring from them. Her skin was flushed and she was hyperventilating, the brown paper bag Simon had given her on the floor.<\/p>\n<p>What the fuck was he supposed to do?<\/p>\n<p>He took the bag, opened it up a little more, and put it to her face. She knocked it away. He did it again and held onto the back of her head to force her nose and mouth into the opening. It took a while until she could draw a decent breath.<\/p>\n<p>He smoothed her hair away from her face, stuck there by the salt from her dried tears and sweat. He couldn\u2019t find anything to say that would penetrate those sobs and all that babbling nonsense. He just stroked her hair, soaked and dark, moisture leaching all the gold out of it.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d he murmured, getting right in her face. \u201cDaisy, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She stuttered and stammered his name. He thought. He wasn\u2019t sure. But she didn\u2019t open her eyes and her sobs didn\u2019t abate.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaize, you need some water and some sleep.\u201d And he needed to get up from this crouch and in a more comfortable position if this trauma was going to be an all-nighter.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, I think I know what our problem is,\u201d Simon drawled vaguely from behind him where the TV news was on.<\/p>\n<p>He twisted and turned. \u201cOur?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Our<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She clicked the remote so the volume went up. \u201c&nbsp;\u2026&nbsp;stepped off the platform to his death. The only witness was a Caucasian woman, blonde, approximately five feet, five inches tall, wearing shorts and a red-and-white checked blouse.\u201d Jack\u2019s jaw dropped. \u201cShe is sought by police for a statement but is not a suspect. Please be advised that the following footage is graphic.\u201d The security video rolled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, my God,\u201d Jack breathed. Unlike Brenda, who\u2019d been shoved all the way in, this man had hit the side of the nose. His body had been cleanly sheared at the waist, his legs flying into the darkness in front of the train and his torso caught between the edge of the concrete and the speeding train. He was turning at the waist like a tumbleweed as the train slowed to a stop.<\/p>\n<p>When the train finally did stop, he was <em>still alive<\/em>, his face a mask of horror, his arms moving, his mouth moving. He was <em>breathing<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>And there was Daisy, having followed him off the train, dropping the bag she was carrying when she realized what he meant to do, running after him, her arms waving, reaching for him, tripping and falling on her knees, watching the train hit him, staring at him when he said something to her. She scrambled to her feet and ran like hell.<\/p>\n<p>Then came back and picked up a bag she\u2019d dropped.<\/p>\n<p>And ran like hell.<\/p>\n<p>Jack turned to see Daisy still sobbing, but not as hard. She was winding down only because she was clearly exhausted. \u201cWhere\u2019d that happen?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHundred third,\u201d Simon answered as she moved about the apartment.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod,\u201d he whispered again, running his hand down his face and looking at her. \u201cTen blocks. And she went back for the bag? What\u2019s in it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFood.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>An ice pack appeared over his shoulder and he took it with a nod of thanks. He touched it carefully to Daisy\u2019s face, pressing a little here and there to let the cool seep through the towel. Now, a pitcher of ice water and a glass set next to his knees.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy,\u201d he crooned as he toyed with her hair with one hand and patted her face with the other hand. \u201cHelp me a little, willya? I need you to sit up for me. Can you do that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her eyelids didn\u2019t open, but her body moved. A little.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHeh\u2014heh\u2014he\u2019p,\u201d she blubbered, \u201cme.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack stood immediately and maneuvered her little body upright. Or tried. She was nowhere near five-foot-five, but she was no lightweight, so Simon helped. He plopped on the couch beside her and she promptly fell over into his lap. \u201cYeah, okay, this isn\u2019t going to work. I need you to drink some water for me, sweetheart. C\u2019mon, gimme some love here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She tried. She really did. And she managed, but it was slow and Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from hounding her about being a pussy when push came to shove. \u201cC\u2019mon, sweetheart.\u201d Simon handed him a glass of ice water and he pushed Daisy up enough to get some in her mouth without spilling it, but she grabbed it and chugged it in three gulps.<\/p>\n<p>She stopped, gasped for air, and reached for the pitcher.<\/p>\n<p>She chugged that, too.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHydration\u2019s not going to be a problem, thank God,\u201d Jack said wryly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, it is. Puking\u2019s next,\u201d Simon said from behind them and handed Jack a pail.<\/p>\n<p>There it was, right on cue.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t know where she\u2019d been or when she\u2019d last eaten, but there was nothing but water and bile.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaize, you wanna take a shower? Nice cold one.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe\u2019s in shock. A cold shower\u2019s the last thing she needs. Here.\u201d An afghan hit him in the back of the head. \u201cWrap her up in that, get her warm, put her in a warm shower if she doesn\u2019t have a fever.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He did what he was told, had her stretch out on the couch with her head in his lap, and caressed her hair until she went to sleep, still hiccupping and occasionally crying out.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShit, that\u2019d be hard on anybody, seeing that,\u201d Simon said as she handed Jack a beer and knelt to dress Daisy\u2019s scraped knees. \u201cThe hell of it is, that man\u2019s going to live for a while yet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s head snapped up. \u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon nodded. \u201cHe was cauterized at the waist. His heart, lungs, and brains are still there, doing their jobs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack could barely make his throat work. \u201cThat\u2019s\u2014 Me? Daisy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFrom what I could see on the video,\u201d Simon said matter-of-factly, \u201cBrenda, was it? got pushed all the way in. She probably went quick. You\u2019d have been worse off if you\u2019d hit the train. Gotten your face scraped off at best.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack looked down at the woman in his lap and knew that if it hadn\u2019t been for her\u2014 No, he couldn\u2019t think about what might have been, so he struggled to find a logical question to ask. Any question would do.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy was she getting off on a hundred and third? There\u2019s a stop on hundred tenth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon pointed the remote at the TV. \u201cLook how she came off the train. She was following him. She\u2019s looking at him like she wants to see what he\u2019s going to do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd then he did.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon nodded slowly. \u201cYep. But not before she tried to stop him. And then he said something to her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod,\u201d Jack sighed and propped his face in his palm.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou need to get in your bed. I have someone coming who needs the couch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd no idea where the kids are.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey come and go as they please. Don\u2019t worry about it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaize,\u201d Jack said, leaning down and murmuring in her ear. \u201cWe have to get to bed. C\u2019mon, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That got her attention, but it took a while to get her moving. She had to pee. Jack was pretty sure she may have already, but he didn\u2019t want to think about that. She gestured that she wanted a shower. Her teeth chattering, she gestured for him to stay and help her in and out of the tub, and he did not mind using the opportunity to look at her naked. Touch her. Caress all that soft, creamy white skin. The breasts he hadn\u2019t yet had a good look at.<\/p>\n<p>They were <em>gorgeous<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>He might have felt like a bastard\u2014<em>might<\/em>\u2014except she was sighing and clinging to him while he did it. She was also half asleep and half traumatized, but he\u2019d take what he could get.<\/p>\n<p>He helped her in and tried to hold her up, but couldn\u2019t, so he ran her a bath when she gestured at the taps. He let her soak for a while, kept the water hot, but didn\u2019t dare leave her in case she fell asleep. When she was ready, she tried to wash herself, but couldn\u2019t hold the soap. So he soaped her up. Scrubbed her down. Even <em>there<\/em>, which was the first time he\u2019d ever touched a woman <em>there<\/em> for any purpose other than sex. It was odd. Gross, actually. He did it anyway. Decided to wash her hair. Rinsed her off. Helped her out. Dried her.<\/p>\n<p>Simon opened the door and handed him one of those hospital gowns. \u201cReally?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf she looks awful enough, maybe you\u2019ll keep your penis to yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He growled and snatched the sheet. Yeah, he\u2019d thought about it.<\/p>\n<p>But she was exhausted and flopping all over him and he couldn\u2019t get her to stand upright, so his dick wasn\u2019t interested in standing upright, either. He gave up on the hospital gown and tried to simply steer her to the closet.<\/p>\n<p>Finally, <em>finally<\/em>, he got her up into bed. He pulled the door closed, made sure the fresh-air vent was still open, flipped on a small flashlight, and maneuvered her just enough so he could get in bed too. He didn\u2019t remember that part. He was too tired.<\/p>\n<p class=\"excerptchapterhead\">20: BOTTOM<\/p>\n<p class=\"sectiontop\">\u201cSOME TRADER\u2019S HOURS you keep,\u201d Simon said to him when he dragged his ass into her kitchen the next morning.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI covet my sleep almost as much as I covet other people\u2019s money,\u201d he yawned and dished himself up some food. He didn\u2019t know what it was. He didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow is she?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBreathing,\u201d he grunted. \u201cClean. Needs to brush her teeth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave to say, you\u2019ve been a trouper the last few days, Jack. Didn\u2019t know you had it in you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He glared at her from under his brows.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat? It\u2019s an insult to tell you you worked hard and I appreciate it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His mouth flattened and he continued to butter his bread. \u201cUnlike <em>some people<\/em> and <em>her sister<\/em>,\u201d he said pointedly, \u201c<em>I<\/em> am not a trust-fund brat or a stranger to manual labor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon chuckled.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat was in that bag?\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSteak.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack\u2019s eyebrows rose. \u201cI like steak.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLoaded baked potatoes. Salad. Dressing. French bread. From&nbsp;\u2026 Blackwood Securities.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHoly shit,\u201d he whispered, turning to look for the familiar logo stamped all over the enormous bag. \u201cShe went back for it so she couldn\u2019t be found.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight. Lucky break for us, though, because we needed the food, people in and out of here knowing we have good food and a good cook. Ran through it in no time and we don\u2019t have any cash left.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He started. \u201cYou know what? I bet she does.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He got up and found her Daisy Dukes, which <em>definitely<\/em> needed to be laundered. He dug in the pockets. There, in the coin pocket, a rolled up wad of hundred dollar bills. \u201cThere\u2019s a good thousand here. She went to Sebastian. I bet she left the kids with him, too.\u201d Jack stuffed two hundred in his pocket and gave the rest to Simon. Then he plopped in his seat and rummaged through the bag for a steak.<\/p>\n<p>Simon was giving him his to-do list for the day, which included fucking <em>laundry<\/em>, when Daisy came tottering out of the closet in that godawful hospital gown, holding it closed in front of her. She looked like the walking dead, dazed and confused.<\/p>\n<p>Jack arose and helped her to the chair, actually thinking far enough ahead to put something on the vinyl so her legs wouldn\u2019t stick.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThank you,\u201d she croaked and stared at the table as if it were a mirage.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDaisy?\u201d Simon said gently, dipping her head to try to look up into Daisy\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Daisy\u2019s eyelashes fluttered up and her mouth trembled. \u201cTell me it was a bad dream,\u201d she whispered, her voice hoarse.<\/p>\n<p>Neither Simon nor Jack said a word.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI didn\u2019t\u2014 I knew something was wrong, but I wasn\u2019t paying attention and then he got off and he was crying and I didn\u2019t know what to do so I followed him and maybe something would occur to me and then he\u2014 I didn\u2019t know if I should offer a shoulder or not. And I would\u2019ve stayed but\u2014\u201d Then she broke down and buried her face in her arms folded across the table, sobbing like a sentient person, not a completely traumatized zombie. \u201cAgain,\u201d she sobbed. \u201cBut he <em>didn\u2019t die!<\/em>\u201d she wailed into the Formica.<\/p>\n<p>Simon and Jack looked at each other and simply waited. Finally\u2014<em>finally<\/em>\u2014she ran down until she was just hiccupping and she was still awake.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou need to eat,\u201d he said gruffly. \u201cYou didn\u2019t have anything in your stomach last night.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2014\u201d She hiccupped. \u201c\u2014puked\u2014halfway\u2014here. Can\u2019t run\u2014very far.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSpud?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded wearily and took the delivery dish with a nod of thanks.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cKids with Sebastian?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded again. \u201cThey slept in your office bedroom last night. He slept on the couch.\u201d She sniffled and started babbling again, something about how pretty Manhattan is at night from high up over it. Something about how the security guard didn\u2019t know what <em>bless your heart<\/em> meant. Something about Jesus not being able to hold his high-velocity ascents. Then she looked at Jack, wild-eyed, and wailed, \u201c<em>He talked to me!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack reached over and smoothed her curls behind her ear. \u201cWhat\u2019d he say?\u201d He wasn\u2019t sure <em>he<\/em> wanted to hear words out of a man he\u2019d seen cut in half. The security camera footage was bad enough; he couldn\u2019t imagine seeing it happening ten feet in front of his face.<\/p>\n<p>She took a deep breath. \u201c\u2018I can\u2019t even die right.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Simon looked away and pressed a knuckle to her eye. Jack watched Daisy, the rapid play of expressions across her face, and caressed her cheek with his thumb.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n<p>He shook his head. \u201cNope.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes squeezed shut. Tears dropped off her chin and jaw, ran down her throat. \u201c<em>Please<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo.\u201d But he arose and gently guided her to the couch, sat, and pulled her down beside him, had her lie down with her head in his lap as he had last night.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack,\u201d Simon said quietly after a while. He looked up to see her dressed as expensively as a boutique physician to the superwealthy should dress, her purse and heels in her hand. \u201cI\u2019m going to go see my dad. I\u2019ll be gone quite a while.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jack had held this fort down before so he simply nodded. The front door, which was really a commercial freezer door, swept closed softly and the lock clicked. Daisy was still except for hiccups. Her hospital gown was barely covering her butt and he could see her goosebumps, so he reached for the afghan and spread it over her.<\/p>\n<p>He pointed the remote at the TV hoping to fill the silence with something, anything, even daytime soaps. Ah, there, the news. They showed the tape with the actual carnage blurred, but before Jack could click away, she whispered, \u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They reported the man to be suffering from depression that had been thought to be under control. He\u2019d left a note before he\u2019d left home. <em>I\u2019m worth more to you dead than alive.<\/em> The \u201cyou\u201d was a wife and three children.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot when you commit suicide,\u201d Daisy whispered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe couldn\u2019t make it look like an accident, I guess,\u201d Jack murmured, still petting her. \u201cOr he didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJack, he was so <em>sad<\/em>. What if I\u2019d talked to him <em>before<\/em> he got off the train instead of <em>after<\/em>? What if I\u2019d\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe was sick, Daize. You can\u2019t fix that with a heart-to-heart with a stranger on a train.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, you don\u2019t understand. <em>Everybody<\/em> comes to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His brow wrinkled. \u201cTo do what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTo vent. To talk. To get advice. To cry. To get comfort.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Of course they did. \u201cWho\u2019s everybody?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFreshmen, mostly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe frosh pep talk.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She said nothing for a while. The news changed to Jack\u2019s situation, with reports now that Jack really might have been pushed, but no names were named. A witness had been found to describe Val well enough to get a decent sketch of her. Brenda was estranged from her family, which wasn\u2019t a complete surprise, but memorial services would be held for her tomorrow. Knox appeared on screen, reiterating that he didn\u2019t know where Jack was but that if Jack was watching the news, he would know what Knox wanted him to do.<\/p>\n<p>Jack sighed. <em>He<\/em> wanted this whole thing over with, and he was still tempted to call Hilliard to come pick him up.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI want to go home,\u201d Daisy croaked, and started to cry again. Softly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know,\u201d Jack said calmly, running his fingers through her curls. But his ribcage cracked open and flipped itself inside out. He didn\u2019t know why he expected her to stay. This wasn\u2019t her problem. It was never her problem. She\u2019d <em>made<\/em> it her problem because she was a protector by nature, but it was a problem she could walk away from.<\/p>\n<p>Jack was relatively well hidden and the kids were taken care of. Melinda, Bucho, Sebastian, and Jack\u2019s uncle were on top of things. Jack had a good lawyer even if he was a young outsider. It was only another week, maybe ten days, that he\u2019d have to wait out the cops and the media, and now he was a bit loath to leave because Simon desperately needed his help.<\/p>\n<p>Daisy had done that, saved his life and possibly his reputation. She somehow got everybody they met sorted out and taken care of. Her job was finished. Over. Fini.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t want her to go but he couldn\u2019t ask her to stay.<\/p>\n<p class=\"wingding\">\u203b<\/p>\n<div class=\"navblock\">\n<p class=\"leftnavblock\"><a class=\"arrowsmall\" href=\"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/thebooks\/weweregods\/\">\u2190 Book 6<\/a><\/p>\n<p class=\"rightnavblock\"><a class=\"arrowbig\" href=\"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/thebooks\/lionsshare\/\">Book 8  \u2192<\/a><br \/>When your widowed father-in-law is your bestie,<br \/>and your late husband had a deep dark secret<br \/>you\u2019re taking to the grave \u2026<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"date\">20260331<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Tales of Dunham #7\u00a92016 Moriah Jovan225,000 words (636 pages) Book 7 in the Dunham universe Buy direct: &nbsp; Amazon Kindle \u2022 paperback Barnes &#038; Noble Nook \u2022 paperback Apple iBooks Google Play Books Kobo eBooks Neither Lydia Charbonneau nor Jack Blackwood thinks it\u2019s a good idea to get involved, but one handshake and one very [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":18726,"menu_order":27,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-4332","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4332"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4332"}],"version-history":[{"count":110,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4332\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25683,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4332\/revisions\/25683"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/18726"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4332"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}