Rebecca began to panic. “You should find a woman who thinks of you like that.” She swallowed hard. “You’re a great guy.” He wasn’t a big man, but he could easily overpower her. She needed to talk him into letting her go.
“Why can’t you see that I’m better than the two of those morons put together? Why won’t you give me a chance to show you how good I can be to you?” He leaned in to kiss her.
Rebecca turned her face to the side and tried to duck around him. He grabbed her by the neck, and the force of his thumb against her trachea squelched any alarm she’d hoped to sound. He slammed her head to the wall and took the kiss from her anyway, forcing his tongue into her mouth.
Rebecca clawed at his face, and he smacked her hard with his free hand.
“Fucking whore. Who do you think you are?”
Rebecca was choking. The pain in her throat wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the lack of air.
Wilson’s nostrils flared, and his eyes were wide and wild. She clawed at his hands.
“Look at us. We could have been the perfect couple.” He pulled her away from the door and pressed their heads side by side in the wall mirror. “Look!”
The move gave Rebecca enough room to thrust her knee into his balls. He released her, doubling over. She kicked him in the face. He stumbled backward enough for her to get the door open, and she ran like hell.
* * *
Kyle had never been so nervous in his life. He checked his pocket once again, just to feel the outline of three new keys pressed against his thigh. The Veritage’s vintage elevator took its sweet time climbing the floors. In a few hours he’d stand with his family in solidarity to accept Olivia’s election results, for better or for worse. Six weeks ago, the prospect of Olivia losing reelection was unthinkable. She was a shoo-in against the little known shill the opposing party had backed. Now the polls put Olivia more than ten points behind. Her struggles had started when everyone became more concerned about the strings she’d pulled to get Kyle and Manny assigned to the same unit than the congressional influence she’d promised to wield on her constituents’ behalf.
Olivia was beside herself. No one had given much thought to the prospect of her losing, least of all Olivia herself. For all his hard work, Kyle thought he’d be more disappointed about the expected landslide. But for right now, it was his other family that he was concerned with.
From a different pocket he pulled out a copy of Manny’s apartment key and opened the door. There was a note on Manny’s fridge in Rebecca’s bubbly script.
I’m up in the solarium. Manny’s at the gym. Don’t worry, we voted this morning.
He smiled. Even the little things, like notes left detailing their whereabouts, made him smile these days. The two black-eyed Susans in his hand needed water. Somehow they’d survived the trip back from Orange County that morning without wilting. Kyle put them in a tall beer mug and chuckled to himself, remembering the look on Mrs. Dawson’s face when he stepped into the village clerk’s office with an envelope of cash. Arrangements through her realtor had brought her there bright and early. The $500,000 he passed her for the deed to the Bennett house nearly knocked her onto her bedazzled ass.
He had two conditions for the sale: that she be out by the end of the day and that she keep her mouth shut about who had bought the home. He’d have movers pack up the house and send her things to her address in Florida. Mrs. Dawson had asked if he was kidding. He told her that cold cash doesn’t have a sense of humor.
The house was his. But what did he need with a four-bedroom historical home forty-five minutes from Manhattan? Nothing, if Manny and Rebecca didn’t say yes. He put the flowers, plucked from his new garden, on the windowsill and checked his watch. There was plenty of time to get to the Grand Plaza Hotel where his parents and Sam would gather for the final election results. As soon as Manny and Rebecca returned he’d ask them officially to move in together in their own place, and he prayed he’d get the answer he wanted.
* * *
Apparently the Veritage Association’s November newsletter contained more than the usual Mahjong dates and birthday wishes; it also contained a notice that the gym was closed for renovations. Manny stood at the concierge desk without the sweat he’d expected to break.
“Ronald, you wouldn’t know when the gym will be reopening, do you?”
Ronald gave Manny an apologetic nod. “I’m afraid they expect it to be out of commission until the end of the month.” He smiled sheepishly. “Longer than I’ll be here. Retirement awaits.”
Manny missed the old guy already. “Hey, Ronald. That’s great. Congratulations.”
Ronald smiled wider. “I’ve met a lot of nice people over the years. You and Ms. Sinclair included.”
“Thanks, Ronald. The feeling is mutual.”
Ronald lowered his voice. “I don’t normally talk about the residents in any bad light, but what Mr. Goodman did was simply unconscionable. I could lose my job for saying so, but at this point no one can stop an old man from speaking his mind.”
Manny shook his head. “I’m sorry, who is Mr. Goodman?”
“Wilson Goodman, your neighbor. He took…” Ronald cleared his throat, and his cheeks flushed. “Er…your friend’s phone from the desk; said he would run it up to him that night. I didn’t think anything of it until the next day when, well…I knew he was responsible.”
Manny’s jaw locked. “Wilson had Kyle’s phone?”
“If you plan to return someone’s property, you don’t go snooping through it first. I watched him on the elevator security cameras.” Ronald lowered his eyes. “I’d have said something sooner, only my retirement application was still pending and he’s on the condo board. Thirty-two years I’ve been doorman at the Veritage. I need my pension.”
Manny fished in his pocket for his phone. “I understand, Ronald.” He was already off to the elevators. “Good luck to you.”
“And to you, Mr. Tescadero!”
Kyle picked up on the second ring. “Dude, it was that slimy fucker Wilson who took your phone. He’s the one who handed our pictures to the press.” Manny mashed the elevator button as though it might understand the urgent need he had to flatten a certain pencil-neck loser.
“Where are you?”
“In the lobby, on my way up.”
“I’m just getting out of the shower. Let’s see if that dickhead is home.”
“Roger that,” Manny said, feeling his rage slip over him like a familiar specter. He could kill him. It wouldn’t be the first life he’d taken.
Manny shook his head. No, this wasn’t war. Revenge needed a leash in the civilized world, and he didn’t need any more blood on his hands. They’d scare him a little, shame him, make him regret the day he was born.
He exited the elevator to see Kyle approaching with wet tousled hair and bare feet. He’d tugged on one of Manny’s US Marine Corps T-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts.
Manny stopped in his tracks. “Hold on. Let’s not do anything stupid.” Being arrested for assault on his mother’s election night wouldn’t be good.
Suddenly, Wilson’s door opened, and Rebecca darted out into the hall with a scream for help. Tears ran down her cheeks, and the chilling fear in her eyes had Manny’s stomach dropping through the floor.
“Fucking whore!” Wilson jumped out after her, and while Rebecca ran to Kyle, Manny shoved two hands in Wilson’s chest and pushed him back into his apartment.
Manny faintly registered Kyle asking Rebecca if she’d been hurt. “What did you do?” Manny seethed. “You motherfucker! What did you do?” Manny’s hands were around Wilson’s throat, holding back the answers he was afraid to hear.
“Oh God! Manny, stop!” Rebecca screamed from the doorway. “Baby, I’m OK.” She touched his arm.
Manny inhaled and felt the burn of fury singe his lungs. Short puffs of air escaped his clenched teeth. “He hurt you.”
Wilson struggled in his grasp. Manny tightened his fingers.
“No. He tried, but he didn’t get the chance. I’m fine.”
“Don’t do this, man. He’s not worth it.”
Manny felt another hand on his arm, and he began to loosen his grip around Wilson’s neck. Turning toward Kyle’s voice, his swirling rage started to dissipate. He’d seen enough death in the war.
“You’re right. He’s not.”
Wilson tore away from him, coughing and scrambling to the furthest point in his apartment. Manny noticed the pile of cocaine on the dining room table that separated Wilson from the rest of them. He shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking they were probably safer there. “What do you mean he tried?”
“Baby, should we call the police?” Kyle asked.
It was Wilson who answered. “Yeah! Call the police so I can have you thrown in jail for assaulting me in my own home.”
“He didn’t do anything you didn’t do to me and then some, you bastard,” Rebecca hissed. “Besides, I’m sure they’d be very interested in this pile of coke.”
Wilson’s eyes darted to his dining table and back to Rebecca. He pushed his hands to his face and scrubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t…”
Kyle took a step forward. “For real? You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say?” He took his phone out and dialed. “Tell it to the cops.”
Wilson opened his eyes again and stared Kyle down. “You don’t want to do that and put yourself back in the news, do you?”
Kyle put the phone to his ear. “Watch me.”
* * *
They waited only ten minutes until the police arrived, but the process of taking Rebecca’s statement had already stretched a little over an hour at the precinct. Kyle and Manny had spoken to the investigating officer first and now sat in silence on the bench just outside the small glass room for Rebecca to finish. Kyle stared at the faded speckled floor beyond his folded hands.
“Pressing charges was the right thing to do,” Manny said, as if reading his mind.
“I know it was.”
“I hope it ruins him.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t.”
Manny shot him a quizzical look. “What?”
“People should get second chances. Don’t get me wrong. I hope they throw him under the jail. Just don’t say it should ruin him forever. That’s what he tried to do to us. No one deserves that.”
Manny put his hand on Kyle’s knee. Kyle met his eyes. A slow smile appeared. “What, are you trying for sainthood?”
Kyle quirked his lip with a shake of his head. “Ha! Don’t bet on it.” He checked his watch.
“Polls are closed,” Manny said, stating the obvious. “You should head over to the hotel to be with your mom.”
“I’m not leaving Rebecca here. Olivia will be fine. She’ll understand.”
Manny shrugged. “She’ll be fine, yes. She always is. But I don’t know if she’ll understand.”
Kyle gave a short laugh. “Yeah, me neither, really.”
Rebecca came out, finally. They jumped up to greet her. Her voice fluttered. “Piece of cake.”
Kyle recognized that tone and knew it meant it had been the exact opposite.
She tugged her jacket back on and faltered, searching for the other sleeve. “I’ll probably be called as a witness if he pleads not guilty, but the officers said he made a full confession.”
Manny helped her with her jacket and even took the time to button her up. “I wish we could have been there to stop him.”
She managed a smile. “You were.” Kyle slipped his hand into hers as they walked to the door. She held him tight. “Hey, won’t the results be in soon? Don’t you need to get to the hotel?”
“Don’t worry about that. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Oh, hell no. Your mom hates me enough as it is. We’re getting you changed and to that hotel, and we have an hour tops to do it before they call this thing. ”
“You sure you’re up for this?” Kyle asked. “I want us to take you back home and hold you all night long.”
“Later. We’ll all get into bed and hold onto each other, but we’re not the only ones who need you tonight.”
When they reached Manny’s car, Kyle stopped them before they opened the doors. Olivia was going to lose, and all hell was going to break loose. It was inevitable. Before he took them into the dragon’s den, he needed them to know where he stood. “I have a surprise for both of you.”
“Haven’t we seen all of your tricks, already?” Manny asked, smiling wryly.
Kyle had to laugh. “Oh, I’ve got a few more. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. Wait until later. I want to be able to luxuriate in it, whatever it is. Right now, all we have time to do is get you into that hotel ballroom.” She opened the passenger door.
Kyle held her arm. “I bought the Bennett house. For us…to live in together.” It came out in rush, not as the proposal he was hoping for. Not the setting, not the timing…and now not the reaction.
“What do you mean you bought it?” Rebecca asked.
“Cash, this morning. It’s ours.”
Manny chimed in. “You mean it’s yours. How do you suppose it’s ours if you bought it?”
Kyle threw his hands up in frustration and instantly wished he hadn’t. “Pay me rent then if you want to. I don’t care. I just want a place we can call our own.”
“You mean a place bigger than a postage stamp?” Rebecca said.
“Or one your parents don’t have the keys to?” Manny added.
Manny and Rebecca looked at each other over the top of the car. Their expressions said it all.
“OK, look. You can think about it. If you think it’s too soon, I’ll sell it, or use it for a retreat for the kids in my foundation. Fuck, I don’t know. I just…”
“Kyle, this is some heavy stuff to spring on us,” Manny said. Shoulders back, with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, he looked genuinely flustered.
Kyle blew out a hard sigh and gazed down 82nd Street. “Sorry. It was stupid. I should have asked you first.” The idea to buy the Bennett house hadn’t come to him lightly. In Bermuda he’d gotten a taste of the life he imagined for them: a threesome sharing a home, sharing their lives. This shuffling back and forth between apartments just didn’t feel permanent. Kyle was ready for permanence to seal the frayed edges of any doubt. They belonged together, but looking at their shell-shocked faces he was suddenly scared that they didn’t feel the same way.