Chapter 44
44
M aeve
“Where to, ma’am?” George asks, holding a door for me when I come out of the building.
My legs are still shaking from the view I just got. Ezra King falling apart in my arms—and my mouth, if one wants to get technical. If I get to have a powerful man like Ezra yielding to a slight snap of my wrist and flick of my tongue, I could perform my wifely duties all day every day. Him returning the favor right there, on top of his desk, didn’t hurt either.
I never thought being eaten out in the corner office overlooking New York was one of my fantasies. Until it was fulfilled. Turned out it was indeed my fantasy, and now it has become a part of my everyday bucket list. I should make these trips to his deserted office more frequent. One day, when I help him get his building back, it will turn into a celebration feast for the both of us. And I can’t wait .
“Ma’am?” George repeats with a sly smile. It’s like he knows what I’ve been doing. Wait, maybe he does. I subtly touch my cheek only to find it flaming hot. Yep, he knows.
“Twenty-Fifth Street,” I reply, looking away from him.
He pauses before asking, quickly losing all playfulness, “Where to on Twenty-Fifth?”
“I don’t know yet,” I reply with a smile. “We will have to figure it out on the spot.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
I look up at him before he closes the door. “You know what, George?”
“I don’t, ma’am.” His face is humorous.
“I think I’m beginning to like you.” I circle him in the air with my hand. “All this let’s-go-no-questions-asked thing is enticing.”
His face stretches with a smile. “The feeling is mutual, ma’am.” Then he adds with an even wider smile, “Besides the talking part.”
I smile back and dig into my bag. I need some cash and groceries.
“George, can you please stop at a grocery store first?” I ask when he’s back in his seat.
“Of course, ma’am.”
On the way, we stop at the store, and George helps me carry a basket. I fill it with some necessities and sandwiches, use my new card, and take cash out.
When we turn the corner of Twenty-Fifth Street, George asks. “Where to?”
“Just drive slowly by the curb.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I really like that—no questioning my weird requests.
We drive down the whole street, but I don’t see Jeff anywhere.
“Change of plans.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and poke my face between the front seats. “Can you stop over there?” I point at the bus stop next to Lulu’s house. This is where Jeff usually found me waiting for him.
George stops the car, and I open the door. “I’ll be back for the groceries.”
“Mrs. King?”
“Yeah?” I hate how easily I’ve gotten used to being called that.
“Are you sure?” He looks around, seemingly worried. “The neighborhood doesn’t look safe.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off. “I used to live here, and I’m fine.”
“Alright.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I’ll be here in case you need me.”
“Of course.” I smile. “Thank you, George.”
I don’t know how a gentleman his age could protect me from attackers, but I don’t voice it. I’ve been here for some time, and chances are I’d be the one protecting him.
I shut the door and walk to the bench at the bus stop, hoping Jeff will find me due to his super-developed sixth sense.
Thirty minutes into waiting, I see Jeff’s limping figure walking toward me. He’s favoring his right leg even more than he usually does, and a worried feeling comes over me.
“Well,” he greets me with a laugh, “look at you. Parents treated you well, I see.”
“Nope, not the parents.” I laugh, patting a spot next to me. “Come here. Let’s talk.”
He takes a seat next to me and looks at my face. “You look happy. And you didn’t want to go to see them. Told you they’d be happy to see you too.” He looks genuinely excited for me, and I feel my spirits lifting after the news Ezra delivered about his company.
“That’s not them though. ”
“Who then? Who put that look on your face?” He points at me with a smile. “It has to be a boy?”
“Well,” I start gleefully, showing him my ring.
“Kiddo, that was fast.” He peeks at the ring. “That thing is big.”
“I know.” I wince, making Jeff chuckle. “It’s awful.”
“It’s not bad. Maybe the size equals his love and devotion to you,” he says, squinting and not sounding convinced himself.
“Right.” I start laughing. “Let me get you something. Be right back.”
I run to the car, grab the bags, and ask George to stay inside. Not looking happy, he agrees but keeps a watchful eye over me. I can feel his gaze the whole time.
When I place all my goodies in front of Jeff, he looks at me with round eyes.
“That’s for me?”
“Yeah.”
He wipes his nose. Then sniffles and wipes it again. “Thank you.”
“No biggie.” I shrug it off, not wanting him to feel like he owes me something. “I’m just returning the debt. Let me help you stash them in your cart. Where is it?”
“It’s over there, right around the corner.”
I make a move to grab the bags and get them to the cart when Jeff takes my hand. “Leave it. I’ll take them. Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
I plant my ass back on the bench and explain to him the whole story, from the very beginning. By the time I’m done, he’s watching me with wide eyes.
“Wait, so the man whose coffee you’ve been spiking with salt is the King? The one from King Developers?”
How come even Jeff knows about them, and I don’t?
“Turns out that way, yes.” I shrug one shoulder .
He looks thoughtful when he speaks next. “I used to play at their parents’ anniversary.”
“What?” I cry out, drawing the attention of two people walking across the street. They pick up speed, hurrying away.
“Yes. His mother was apparently into jazz, so she insisted we fly over here all the way from New Orleans to play.”
“They used to live here back then, in New York?” This is something I should have known by now, but I’m new at this whole wife thing.
“Yeah. I remember their two kids. Two boys. The eldest was stiff like a stone wall.”
I nod because that sounds about right, and nothing has changed since then.
“The father was on this poor boy all the time. ‘You’re not sitting right. Not talking right. Not looking straight. Not smart enough. Not tall enough.’” He shakes his head with disgust. “At one point, I got so fed up with that, that I told him to leave the poor boy alone.” Jeff quiets down, scratching his chin. “I never played again.”
“What?” My heart stops beating. It stops beating for Jeff whose life was changed that day for worse. And for the poor boy who was forced to think he was not good enough.
“Yeah. That was the last time I played music as a paying job. No one ever hired me after that. Not even in a shitty café.” He looks ahead of him with glassy eyes. “The King blacklisted me from the entertainment industry.”
“Oh, Jeff. What happened to you after?”
I’ve never heard his story. Never actually asked because I didn’t want to overstep, hoping he’d tell me his story eventually. But this story just can’t be true. There’s no way the universe weaved us all together like that. It just can’t be happening.
“Music was all I’ve ever known. All.” He bumps his fist to his chest, his voice breaks. “It’s my heart and my soul. When it was taken away, I couldn’t do anything else. I’ve tried. Trust me, I’ve tried. But my whole desire to live was taken away.” He stops talking, withdrawing into himself. “So here I am,” he finishes. His shoulders drop forward. “Still playing. Just on the streets.”
“Oh, Jeff. I’m sorry.” I cover his hand, which is resting on the bench with mine.
“Don’t be, kid.” He pats my hand with his other. “I have zero regrets. I wish more people would have stood up for those kids. But Mr. King was a powerful man. I think he still is.” He shrugs. “I’m just glad his son turned out to be okay.”
“How do you know he’s okay?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood with some humor.
“You’d have to be if he was able to put that smile on your face,” he says with a wink.
“Yeah, he’s okay.” Saying it out loud makes my heart flutter like wings of tiny butterflies. Oh crap, I’m in trouble if the mention of his name makes me giddy.
“What about that piece of shit father?” His eyes narrow.
“I guess he’s still a piece of shit. He brought a board in instead of passing on his company directly to his kids.”
“Yeah, he’d do something like that,” Jeff confirms, nodding.
“And now the board wants to take the company away from them.”
“Why did he marry you then?” he asks with raised brows. “You just told me you came with a side of voting shares.”
“I do,” I sigh. “But as it turns out, the city wants the King brothers to fall, so the board can take over the company.”
“The city?” Jeff’s brows draw together.
“Yeah. The senior inspector who keeps the building closed?” I wait for him to nod to continue. “He’s the brother of one of the board members. And apparently they’re the ones who started this whole scheme.”
“Well, damn.” Jeff whistles. “What’s his name?”
I blink at his question, not sure how this information is relevant, so he asks again.
“What is his name, kid? Did you swallow your tongue?” he chuckles.
“I—” I start mumbling. “I actually don’t know.”
“Well, you’d better find out because I’ve been living on the streets of this city for a long time. And I know things. And I also know people who know things,” he adds with a wink.
I blink some more before calling Ezra. He picks up on the second ring.
“Wife.”
My legs turn into jelly. I didn’t expect one word could hold such power over my body, but it does. One word, and I’m reduced to a mess whose sole desire is to run home and wait for him with legs spread right in front of the elevator.
“Wife?” He repeats the magic word.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, that’s me.” I clear it again. “I mean, I’m calling to ask for the name of the inspector who’s holding the building prisoner.”
A pause. “Why?”
I mumble a curse about everyone asking stupid questions even though I just did the same to Jeff. “Just give me the damn name!”
“Boris Lebovski. Why do you need it?”
“Thank you! Bye!” I quickly hang up the phone not to give him a chance to say something stupid and liquefying like ‘Come home, wife, I’ll make you come again’ or worse.
“What’s the name?” Jeff reminds me that I’m not alone here with my hot fantasies.
“Boris Lebovski. ”
“Hmm,” he hums, scratching his scruffy chin. “I think he visits the hookers on Fifteenth.”
“What?” I jump to my feet, utterly too excited.
He keeps scratching his chin, not hearing me. “Definitely Fifteenth. I’ll ask around. Maybe he goes over there too.” Jeff points at a brick building around the corner. “They have a sex club in the basement. We’ve seen some weird shit crawling out of there at sunrise.”
Assuming he’s not talking about vampires, my heart starts beating like crazy, threatening to rip my ribcage open and jump out to perform a happy dance. “Are you sure?”
“Yes-yes.” He starts nodding. “Give me some time. I’ll get you some pictures, and you can blackmail the shit out of him.” Then his face turns sour. “Oh, wait. I can’t do it just yet. I need some time to collect money for a camera. I’ll go to the park tomorrow morning. It’s Saturday, so there should be tourists I can play for.”
“Jeff,” I whisper, grabbing his hand. My voice is breaking. “You really would do that for me?”
“What?” He slaps his open palms on his knees in frustration. “Take pictures of an asshole who took down the whole building and therefore some of our food from us?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“The restaurant inside and the coffee shop? They were leaving bags full of leftover food next to their back door in big plastic bags. They were feeding a lot of people on the streets,” he explains.
“Really?” I ask, excited. I was one of those who left a bunch of food next to our door when I was closing up the shop, and in the morning the bags were gone. I didn’t know who took them, but it’s good to know they were doing something good for the people.
“Yep, they did. So we really want that building open again too. Give me some time. I’ll get money and figure something out.”
“Wait.” I dig into my purse to get the cash I took from the ATM before. “I forgot. I came to pay my debts with dues.”
I press five hundred dollars in twenties into his hands. He looks down at our joined hands and then back at me. “I think it’s too much.”
“It’s the dues. From Ezra,” I add with a warm smile. I’ll have to make it up to Jeff for standing up for my husband when no one else was doing that.
“It’s still too much,” he says, his voice breaking.
Ignoring his words because it’s uncomfortable for the both of us, I continue. “I’ll get you a polaroid tomorrow and bring it here. It’s hard to fake those pictures, so he won’t have anything to say about it. All you have to do is get a bit closer to the target. And maybe a phone too.”
He forcefully shakes his head. “No. This is more than enough to buy a twenty-buck machine. And I already have a phone,” he adds, sounding a bit offended. “I’ll be fine.”
Agreeing easily because I’m planning to bring more money, I shake our still joined hands. “Thank you, Jeff. Oh, wait.” I dig into my pocket and produce a piece of paper with my new number, which I scribbled before we came here. “Take it. Call me when you find something.”
“Will do.” He accepts it with a nod. “Thank you, kid.”
“For what?”
“For noticing me. Sometimes I forget how painful it is to be invisible,” he replies quietly. He picks up his bags and limps away. Before he disappears behind the corner, he turns to me. “I’ll find you when I have the photos. Let’s hope he’s a horndog so it happens rather faster,” he adds with a chuckle and disappears out of view.
“A friend of yours?” George asks as I slide into the back seat of the car .
“He is,” I reply with a nod. “I also think he’s a friend of my husband too.”
I don’t even notice how easily the word slipped from my mouth. How natural it feels to call him that.
“I have a feeling I’ve seen him somewhere.”
“You might have.” I turn to look at him. “How long have you been working for Ezra?”
“Twenty years for the King family. And five years for Mr. Ezra, since his father retired from the company.” I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I think he mumbles something like ‘thank fuck.’
Well, I just started liking George a little more.
I poke my face between the seats like a rabbit from the hat, making him smile. “We need to find an apartment for Jeff. Until he can get back on his feet. Can you help me with that, George?”
“Aye-aye, ma’am,” he replies playfully. “My daughter works at a real estate agency. We can call her.”
I lightly smack his shoulder. “There we go, George! Working as a team already.”