Authors: Scarlett Black
I
believe in coincidences, even though I approach life with a logical outlook.
There are too many things that happen throughout life that you can’t explain,
no matter how much rationality you try to apply to it. You think about a
friend you haven’t seen in years and then, that afternoon, you run into her in
the grocery store. A random song pops into your head and when you start the
car, it’s playing on the radio. Stuff like that. You accept it, you give it a
shrug of your shoulders, and then you move on. It was neat for a moment, then
life resumes.
Was
it a coincidence that it stopped raining the second Finn opened his mouth to
speak? Maybe. Was it a sign? Possibly. It was almost as if Mother Nature
had reached over and flipped a switch. It was on, then it was off. I can’t
explain how it happened any more than I can explain the theory of relativity.
Rain on. Rain off. Sunshine peeked out from between the remaining dark
clouds.
Yeah,
it was a sign. A welcome connection. New life. New hope. New possibilities.
Finn
said, “You did what you had to do, and I don’t blame you for that. I mean, I
can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with the idea of you selling yourself. It
is what it is, you know? When you really break it down, we don’t know each
other
that
well, yet I feel like I’ve known you forever and I trust your
sense of judgment. It was…it was life. Shit happens, life happens.”
I
was so stunned that he hadn’t walked away that I hadn’t thought of what I’d say
next. Embarrassed, and I’m sure my face was as red as our table top, I asked,
“Can you forgive me?”
“There’s
nothing to forgive you for. You did what you thought you had to do. It’s
weird. I can’t really wrap my words around what I’m trying to say—I understand
the necessity. We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. What matters is that
your heart was in the right place. I probably would’ve done it differently,
but I—I can’t fault you for it either. Not when you meant well.”
He
reached across the table and took my hand again. That small measure of
reassurance meant more than he would ever know.
I
said, “If it matters, I never slept with anyone.”
“You
didn’t? Then how were you an escort?”
“Are
you sure you want to hear this?”
“No,
but now you have to tell me.”
“I
don’t want to.”
“That’s
how it works. You can’t dangle the carrot and leave me hanging.”
“Don’t
judge.”
“Cross
my heart.”
“If
you only knew what goes on behind closed doors.” I spared him some of the more
explicit details. He listened intently, first with curiosity, then doubt.
Without
being judgmental myself, and trying to explain that my clients were people with
needs that weren’t the norm, I shared some of the more fantastical stories. I
could’ve kept them to myself, and maybe I should’ve, but what I wanted him to
hear was that my body, the body that would be Finn’s domain from now on, was
untarnished. I’d fulfilled their needs in other ways. I was clean. Slightly
jaded, perhaps, but undamaged, unblemished.
Our
food arrived as I finished telling the last story—the one about the CEO from a
major biomedical research company that loved being tied to the bed and forced
to watch old black and white movies by a dominant mistress. It was the only
way he was able to climax.
“You’re
making that up,” Finn said, digging into his omelette. “I mean, right?”
The
pancakes were glorious. I felt comfortable enough with him to be rude and
speak with my mouth full. “Nope, absolutely true. You wouldn’t believe some
of the things I’ve seen.”
“And
done.”
“And
done, yeah.”
“I
don’t even know what to say.” He raised his eyebrows, lifted his shoulders to
his ears, and let them drop. “I’m glad we got that out of the way.”
“There’s
more.” I dreaded the thought of having to go through the whole process of
revealing the truth, yet again, but it’s hard to stop a runaway train.
Finn
coughed and choked on a bite of omelette. Tapping his chest, he swallowed,
laughed in disbelief and said, “What? More?
More
? How can there
possibly be more? Jesus, a guy can’t let a girl out of his sight for twelve
months without all hell breaking loose.”
“First,”
I said, “thank you for taking this so well. I didn’t expect it, not at all,
and I want you to understand that it means more to me than I’ll probably ever
be able to explain.”
“You’re
welcome, but Kim, seriously, we’re good. Let’s just get this over with before
this meal kills me.”
“I
made one point five million in three months, and instead of doing something
smart with it, I started my own escort service. That’s the kind of business I
run now.”
“Oh
my God, you’re a madam?”
“Something
along those lines.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“What
am I supposed to say to that?” He wasn’t angry. “Flabbergasted” is probably
the most appropriate word. “I thought you wanted to be done with it? Why
would you jump right back in like that?”
“How
much time do you have left on your lunch break? It’s another long story.”
“For
this, I can be late.”
The
only thing I left out was the details about the sex with Roman. I told Finn it
happened, and I told him the reason I was in my current situation was to get my
petty revenge for a broken heart, just so there would be no stones left unturned.
I
told him about allowing Michelle to blow almost all of my money. Three of my
escorts in the hospital. Fearing for my life. My meeting with Harris that
morning, but not all of the details of our plan. I realized I was going back
on my word about the foundation of truth—if I told Finn everything, he wouldn’t
be able to run fast enough.
When
I could think of nothing else important, I said, “That’s it. Here I am.”
“Remind
me to never piss you off,” Finn said, downing the last bite of his meal. “So
what are you going to do?”
“Follow
Harris’s lead, I guess. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all of this is
because—well, because his plan, it’s not the safest and I wanted to see you in
case anything happened. I could’ve left it alone and not told you, but I
didn’t want to put you in danger either. It’s my problem to deal with.”
“When’s
the plan going down?”
“You
sound like you stepped out of a crime fiction novel.”
“I’m
serious, Kim. When?”
“Tonight.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I
have to be in Boston tomorrow, so this way, I get to come with you.”
“Finn,
no, absolutely not.”
“Doesn’t
matter. I lost you for over a year. I’m not losing you for good.”
“But—”
“You’re
not changing my mind. I’ll handcuff myself to you if I have to.”
My
plan had almost worked. I’d told the truth, and he’d stayed, but I never
expected him to be so stubborn about possibly risking his life for me. In a
way, it was romantic, the stuff that box office bestsellers are made of, and I
adored the idea of it, but it was also ridiculous and unwarranted.
“And
besides,” he added, “what’ll happen to Joey if anything happens to you, huh? I
can’t sit here and let you do this on your own. God forbid, if something went
wrong and this Harris guy messed up, I’d never forgive myself knowing that I
could’ve been there for you. You made the bed, Kim, now we’re both gonna lie
in it.”
“Are
you sure?”
“Never
been more positive.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed.
“What’re
you doing?”
“Calling
the office.”
“Why?”
Finn
winked and patted his stomach. “Bad omelette.”
***
We
went back to my apartment. I told him to ignore the complete and total state
of disarray that it would be in, then got a pleasant surprise when we walked
through the front door, only to find that Gertie had cleaned. After I’d made
the introductions and Finn sat on the floor with Joey, stacking some blocks, I
thanked her for picking the place up, telling her that it hadn’t been
necessary.
“Funny
thing,” she said. “I took a nap while Joey was sleeping this morning and had a
dream that you were bringing friends over. It felt so real to me that I got
right up and started cleaning. Amazing the way the mind works sometimes.”
I
almost asked her if she’d had any dreams about Harris’s plan for the evening.
I didn’t, of course, because that would lead to too many questions that I
wouldn’t have an answer for. I gave her the rest of the afternoon off, then
lied, asking if she could swing back around nine that evening so that Finn and
I could go out for a drink, to which she happily agreed, sneakily leaning over
like a gossiping teenage girl to whisper how cute he was.
“Look
at him,” she said, pausing at the door. “Ain’t that something? Keep him
around. Joey could use a man like that.” Then she was gone.
I
turned to see what she’d been looking at. Finn had only met Joey five minutes
earlier, and already he had him balancing on his legs, pretending my
not-so-little baby was an airplane. Joey laughed and laughed. So did Finn. I
leaned against the wall and watched them, enjoying the moment, taking it all
in, creating snapshot memories in my mind. Hoping it wouldn’t be my last
chance.
We
spent the afternoon together, avoiding conversation about the inevitable, while
we took Joey to the park and then went for a walk. He toddled after geese,
pretending to honk as they scrambled away from him. Finn and I drifted lazily
back and forth in the swings. We talked, told stories and jokes, and I finally
learned what he did for a living.
It
wasn’t as glamorous as Roman’s high-class escort business worth millions of
dollars, nor as impressive as Walter Wickam’s oil empire worth billions. And I
don’t say that to sound like I wasn’t impressed, it’s just that after the
people I’d been dealing with over the last six months, the elite, snobbish
members of society, it was refreshing to have a simple conversation with
someone down to earth.
Someone
normal
.
I’m
not sure what kind of fantasy I had created in my mind, but I hadn’t expected
Finn to be a software programmer for a small, ten-person firm that built
websites for boat dealers.
“Boring,
I know,” he said. “But, if what we do helps Joe Boat Dealer sell a few more
units off his lot so he can put food on the table for his family, then I’ve
made a difference.”
“I
like that,” I said.
“Anyway,”
he added, “I’ve got my own project on the side that I hope to turn into a
business one day. Hey, yeah, maybe you can help, being the businesswoman that
you are.”
“Definitely,
what is it—” My cell buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hang
on, let me get this since it might be Harris.”
“Take
your time,” Finn said. “I should go save Joey before that goose eats him for
dinner.”
I
thanked him and waited until he’d put some distance between us.
“Hello?”
“What
in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Roman?”
“You
send this Harris guy after me and expect to get away with it? Huh? Do you
have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
Oh
no. Oh God. What happened? What did Harris do? He evidently hadn’t stuck to
the plan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
“You
haven’t gotten any smarter, have you? First, you steal my best whores and
think you can get away with it. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out
eventually? Did you really think I’d let it go? Do you have any fucking clue
how much money you cost me? Then, you hire some guy to come after me, like I
wouldn’t figure out what was going on? Some stranger shows up here asking
questions and pulls a gun on me? Maybe you didn’t learn this about me, Kim,
but I’m a sneaky son of a bitch. I’ve kept the secrets of some of the most
powerful people in this country for years, and I didn’t get to that place
without being the smartest guy in the room. You said it yourself, the
ceasefire is
over
. Your man, he bled out on my carpet, and if you’re
not here within thirty minutes, alone, she will, too. I’d bet she even
bleeds
perfection.”
The
unmistakable scream that followed buckled my knees.
Michelle.
Fear,
panic, dread, and confusion all took me to the ground. I screamed into the
phone but Roman had already hung up. Finn raced over, carrying Joey, and
dropped down in front of me.
“What
happened? What’s wrong?”
“He’s
got her, he’s got her.” The words flew out of my mouth, making no sense to him.
“Who’s
got her? Got who?”
“Roman.
Roman has Michelle at his office. I have to go, I have to go right now.” I
scrambled to my feet, whipping my head around, looking for the car as I gasped
to catch the breath that had been yanked from my lungs.
Finn
stood, holding Joey in his arms, who’d begun to cry. My panicked frenzy had frightened
him. “I’m coming with you,” Finn said.
“No,
you can’t.”
“Let
me help, Kim. You can’t—”
“Stop,
just stop for a second.” My heart beat with the speed of a hummingbird’s
wings. “Was all that stuff you said in the diner true? About how you couldn’t
live with yourself if you knew something happened to me?”
“Yes,
damn it.”
“Then
you have to understand this,” I said, standing, taking Joey in my arms, holding
him, caressing his hair, and shushing him. “He’s my world, and you can do more
for me by making sure he’s okay until I get back than you can coming with me,
okay? Listen—ssshh—listen, Roman has Michelle, and he’s expecting me alone
within thirty minutes. I think he’s already murdered Harris, and if I show up
with anyone else, he might kill you on sight.”
“He
murdered
somebody?
Oh my God
, Kim, I can’t—”
“You
have to. Take Joey home, call Gertie if you need her, but please, just go stay
with him.”
“But
what about you?”
“I’ll
be fine. I promise.”
“You
don’t know that!”
“I
do, I promise you, I do. I’m smarter than Roman. I’ll figure it out. I’ll
talk him down, whatever it takes, but I have to get Michelle out of there.”
“This
is insane. We should call the police.”
“We
do that and she’s dead. I can’t let that happen.”
Finn
put one arm on my shoulder and another gently on Joey’s head. “And I can’t let
his
mother die. I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not going to
be responsible for
that
. You are not getting away from me again,
understood? You said we have thirty minutes, right?
“Yeah.”
“Get
in touch with Gertie. Have her meet us around the block from his office. She
can pick him up, then I’ll go with you.”
“Finn—”
“No
arguments. That’s what’s happening.”
I
nodded, holding my sobs inward, trying to maintain composure so I wouldn’t
scare Joey any more than he already was.
As
I followed Finn to the car, feeling the weight of my little boy in my arms, his
realness, his warmth, his being, it occurred to me how unclearly my mind had
been in such a frazzled state, thinking I could go in against Roman alone.
What if he murdered Michelle and I both as soon as I walked through the door?
What would’ve happened to Joey? Yes, he would’ve been with Finn, but Joey
wasn’t his responsibility. Sooner or later, he’d be deposited on his daddy’s
doorstep, unloved, unwanted, forced to live with a man he didn’t know.
I
was furious with myself. Joey’s fate should’ve been the first thing on my
mind, but when you’re caught up in the moment, fight or flight overtakes
rationality.
Everything
I had done over the past year had led to this moment in time, right here, right
now, as we dashed across the open expanse of grass, toward the car. Twelve
months of horrible decisions—even if they were motivated by good intentions—had
all coalesced and given me thirty minutes to figure out how to stay alive for
my child’s sake, to keep Finn from paying for my actions, and to save my best
friend’s life.
***
I
buckled Joey into his car seat and tried not to cry. Gertie eyed me over the
seat.
She
said, “I’ve never asked questions because I didn’t want to know, and I’m not
about to start now, but Kim, whatever this is…be careful.”
“I
will,” I said, nodding. “Joey, honey, look at Mommy, look at Mommy, okay?
Mommy loves you very much.” I stroked his hair, his cheek, and then wiped a
remaining tear from the corner of his eye. “Mommy loves you so much. Gertie’s
gonna take you for ice cream and then Mommy will come find you in a bit.”
Gertie
said, “Should I…should I call the police?”
“No,
please don’t. I’ll explain everything later but for right now, just get him
out of here while we take care of this.”
“Okay,
we’ll be at the apartment. Joey, are you ready for some ice cream? Huh? Are
you ready? We’ll get you a big double scoop this time.”
He
smiled. My heart broke.
What
if I never saw that soul-melting grin again?
“Go,”
I ordered. I kissed Joey’s forehead one last time and shut the door.
Finn
and I watched her drive away. I fell into his arms, bawling into his chest as
he hugged me close. What I would’ve given to be in that embrace under
any
different circumstance right then. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
He
rested his chin on the top of my head. “We have what we have,” he said. “I
don’t believe in that whole ‘things happen for a reason’ stuff, not usually,
but something brought you back to me, before
this
, you know? It’s
almost like whatever higher power’s out there…it knew that we’d need to be
together. It
wanted
me here to help.”
God,
I hoped that was true. I would rather it be that than some cruel joke played
by the universe.
I
could almost hear it mocking me.
All
good things come to those who wait, huh? Well, Kim, here’s the love of your
life, right before you die. Funny old world, ain’t it?
I
patted his chest. “Let’s get this over with.”
We
walked down the sidewalk, toward Roman’s building, smelling the wet
aftereffects of that morning’s rain. It smelled clean and fresh, like the
downpour had washed away the remnants of all the bad things in life.
All
but one.
While
we’d waited on Gertie to arrive, we’d concocted a plan. It wasn’t much, but we
didn’t have the time to come up with anything exceptional.
Harris’s
plan—the original one—had been for me to confess my sins to Roman, to apologize
profusely, and to lure him out with the promise of paying him the money he’d
lost, along with any sexual favors he’d wanted, no matter what the request. If
it had worked, Harris had intended to hide in the back seat of Roman’s
Mercedes, and then “dispose” of him there. One tiny prick from a needle, an
injection of an untraceable poison, and the job would be done.
Back
in the library, I’d severely protested the need for murder.
My
what ifs and buts made no difference. Harris had operated with one clear goal
in every job—eliminate the possibilities. Frightening Roman into silence,
running him out of town, or trying to physically beat him into submission were
no guarantees that he wouldn’t return and try to finish the job. “Men like
that,” Harris had said, “those greedy sociopaths? They don’t think like the
rest of us. No, your best bet is to pull the plug and dump him in a landfill
somewhere.”
“But
what about the security cameras?” I’d countered. “Won’t they see him leaving
the office with me?” He’d assured me that they wouldn’t be a problem.
Fingerprints, either. “And Alice, I don’t want her hurt. Not a finger,” I’d
demanded.
To
which he’d replied, “I’m a professional, not a goon. Trust me. I move the
chess pieces around and all you have to do is get the king out the door.”
If
that hadn’t worked, Harris said he’d think of something.
What
happened? What made him change his mind? Why had he abandoned our plan before
he gave me a chance?
Finn
stopped at the street corner. He squeezed my hand. Roman’s building was a
half a block away. “That’s it, right? The place with the pine trees?”
“Right.”
He
studied it for a moment, one arm around his chest, while he propped his chin up
with the other hand, in a thinking pose. “Something’s been bothering me.”
“What’s
that?”
“When
he called you, you said that the Harris guy had died there in his office,
didn’t he?”
I’d
been in such a wrecked mental state that it took me a moment to recall. “Um,
yeah, he said that he’d bled out on his carpet.”
“Doesn’t
it seem strange to you that Michelle’s there?”
The
thought hadn’t occurred to me. I’d been so laser-focused on getting here,
getting Joey to safety, and then getting Michelle out alive that I hadn’t
considered the
why
. “It’s weird, yeah, but he could’ve left to get her
or had someone bring her here.”
Finn
shook his head. “I’m not buying it. I mean, I don’t know the prick at all,
but from what you’ve told me, he doesn’t seem like he’d be careless enough to
do that. If your hitman guy was dead in his office, he wouldn’t risk having
someone find the body if he left, and it’d be just as stupid to have some thug
dragging Michelle into the building against her will. Right? There are too
many things that could go wrong, either way.”
“So
you’re saying that she was there on purpose?”
Finn
shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue, but that’s what it seems like to
me. It’s the most logical thing.”
I
considered the idea for a moment. Was it possible? Yes. Probable? Maybe.
Unless Michelle thought she would try to negotiate with Roman, what other
reason would she have for being there? Could that be it? Had she tried to fix
things on her own?
That
had to be the reason. I’d told her to go home, to get away from all of this
until I could sort it out, and she’d done the exact opposite. She’d been
trying to make it right for me and had walked right into the lion’s den. Or
better yet, she’d stuck her head in the lion’s mouth.
“Let’s
go,” I said, tugging Finn’s arm.
***
When we entered the front doors to
the lobby, I paused and looked directly at the security camera tucked in a
corner overhead, hoping that Harris hadn’t had a chance to disable them and
that the tape was able to record a good image of my face. With any luck, what
the cameras captured would be stored at an off-site location, preventing Roman
from destroying any evidence. I wanted someone, anyone, to know that I’d been
there in case they couldn’t find my body.
Finn
and I stood at the set of stairs at the building’s rear. Months ago, during
one of our meetings, Roman had shown me the exit in the back of his office and
had laughingly told me about how he’d had to sneak a client out that way when
the guy’s wife showed up, demanding to know where he was. The plan was to have
Finn slink up the back way and surprise Roman from the rear while I distracted
him from the front. They were roughly the same size, so the hope was that Finn
might be able to knock Roman out and secure him long enough for the police to
arrive.
It
was dangerous and ill conceived, but what choice did we have? Maybe if we’d
had days to plan, maybe if we had the experience of someone like Harris, we
could’ve come up with something more cautious and less patchwork.
“Remember,”
I said, “sixth floor. He won’t be able to see you coming down the hallway.
It’s hidden off to the right, next to the bookcase. We don’t know what the
situation looks like in there, but I’ll try to keep my back to the window so
he’ll have to face me.”
“I
got it,” he insisted, stroking my hair. “I’ve watched enough movies to know
what I’m doing.”
“Finn.”
“Sorry.
I try to be funny when I’m scared.” He pulled his cell out and checked the
time. “Three minutes. We better hurry.” Finn leaned over and kissed me,
hard, passionately, holding me close. I wanted to stay in that tiny pocket of
time forever.
“See
you up there,” I said, as he darted up the steps in twos and then disappeared
around the landing.
The
ride up the elevator was slow, methodical, and unbearable. Watching the
numbers tick over was maddening, my stomach churning faster with each passing
floor.
The
bell chimed. The doors opened. I lurched into the hallway and vomited into a
plant, then wiped my mouth with a sleeve. I was dizzy. I couldn’t breathe.
Mentally,
I may have shut down for a second, because the next thing I knew, I found
myself walking through the doors of Midnight Fantasy. Alice was gone. The
lights were low. I shuffled down the hallway, dragging my feet, dreading what
had to be done. Feeling like I was being pulled, yet resisting at the same
time, being sucked into a whirlpool of drowning mistakes.