Chapter 7
“Whoa there. You’re going to make yourself sick again if you eat that fast.” Rob slid the plate away, and Marina snatched it back.
“Touch my food again and I’ll stab you with a spoon.
” Marina took his advice and set her fork down.
“I never thought I’d want to eat again after yesterday, but now I’m ravenous.
” The chicken breast over creamy mashed potatoes had tasted utterly divine.
He and Jeff had also brought more electrolyte tablets and coconut water, which she sipped dutifully, though a beer would have gone down better to help drown the mortification that lingered like sweaty pit stains in a favorite shirt.
“Given the way your system emptied itself of both food and liquid, it isn’t surprising.” Jeff sat back, his hands cradled around a cup of tea. “Are you feeling better?”
“You looked like someone had reheated your corpse when we got here.” Rob’s eyes had gone wide when she’d opened the door, which told her exactly how bad she looked.
While she showered, they’d plated the food and Rob had even laid out her sweats and T-shirt, which was sweet, even if she hated people going through her drawers. They’d been friends long enough that it wasn’t as weird as it could be.
“Feeling much better. Physically, anyway. Mentally and emotionally?” She shook her head. “Yesterday I told her I had the runs. Today I passed out, literally, in her arms while looking like something that washed up on shore.”
“And smelling like it. Don’t forget that.” Rob grunted when Jeff pinched his leg.
“It’s not like I want anything with her. I mean, sex would definitely be something mind-blowing. You can tell by the way she moves her hands.”
“Lesbians,” Jeff said, shaking his head.
“But then I’d have to deal with all the woo-woo stuff. We’d have the kinds of arguments that end in prison time, I’m sure of it. She’s soft and sweet and believes that a deck of cards can tell you your future. She probably dances naked and prays to a goddess too.”
Jeff frowned as he blew softly on his tea. “There’s nothing wrong with people believing in whatever they believe in, Marina. Plenty of couples have different belief systems and make it work.”
“They do, that’s true. But I’m not going to be one of those people. I don’t have the time or energy for someone who wants to commune with the spirits.” She told them about the situation with the couple in the restaurant. Rob laughed, but Jeff continued to look serious.
“I think that’s very sweet, and if it’s real, then it’s something special.”
Rob cupped Jeff’s chin in his hand. “I love how forgiving you are of people’s weirdness.” He kissed him quickly. “But I’m with Marina on this. It’s one thing to say you think there’s an afterlife, or to go to church. It’s another realm entirely to think you talk to dead people.”
Jeff shook his head. “You’re both too cynical for your own good. Marina, someone like River could be good for you. The way I’m good for Rob.”
Marina pushed away her plate, which she’d nearly licked clean.
“I’ll never know. I came this close,” she held her fingers a smidge apart, “to messing shit up with Sheila Black. I can’t risk not giving her my full focus.
I read the rumor mill online, and she expects people to jump the moment she snaps the whip, no matter what time it is, day or night. I need to be that person.”
Rob nodded emphatically, while Jeff looked dubious. “You’re right. Monty chose you for this, and it could send you skyrocketing to the top. Get laid, have fun, work off some steam, whatever. But don’t let anyone keep that from happening.”
Jeff stood and started clearing plates. “I’m glad you didn’t think that way when we met. Or that you think that way now. You’re giving bad advice, love.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “I’m agreeing with her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is when she’s shutting down the possibility of something special.” Jeff left for the kitchen with his arms loaded with dishes.
“Special?” Marina closed her eyes, weary to her bones. “I’ve run into her a couple of times and two of them ended with me in tears. I hardly think it counts as a budding romance.”
Rob leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I think you need sleep. We’ll head out and drop by tonight with dinner. Call us if you need anything or if you feel strange.”
She nodded without opening her eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
One of them draped a blanket over her, but her eyelids were so heavy, she found she couldn’t open her eyes to say bye. She drifted to sleep.
Strong, solid arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
Hot breath caressed her ear. “You’re mine.
You’ve always been mine.” The kiss was hard, passionate, insistent.
Every part of Marina ached to be taken the way this woman wanted to take her.
Her lips felt perfectly bruised and as her top fell away from her shoulders she moaned softly, the sound accompanied by a buzz. And then another buzz. And another.
She blinked, unsure for a moment where she was. Her phone vibrated on the side table, making it jump along on its own toward the edge. She fumbled for it and squinted at the number she didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” she murmured and closed her eyes again.
“Don’t tell me you’re sleeping in the middle of the afternoon?” Sheila Black’s voice came through like pins pressing into Marina’s skull.
“No, of course not. I was just deeply involved in a case file. What can I do for you?” There was no need to mention that it was Sunday afternoon. Clearly, Sheila didn’t care.
“I’ve just emailed a document over. I’d like you to read it and amend it as necessary, then send it back to me within the hour.” She spoke sharply to someone in the room. “I take it that won’t be a problem?”
“Of course not. I’ll look at it right now.
” Marina went to sit up but got tangled in the blanket and fell off the couch with a thump.
“Is there anything I need to be looking for specifically?” she asked, her voice muffled by the blanket she was trying unsuccessfully to pull off her.
Was the fucking thing made of Saran Wrap?
“No. Just make sure it’s airtight. Ciao.”
Marina finally yanked the blanket off and shoved it away.
Her hair crackled with electricity and made her yelp when she went to pat it down.
Coffee first. She got a pot running and yawned as she checked her email and texts.
There were three from Rob, asking if she wanted them to come over with dinner, what she wanted, and if they could watch the new Marvel movie. The next one made her smile.
River: I’m hoping you’re still alive enough to read this and that you’re feeling better. I wonder how many more times I’ll get to say that?
Marina thought of the dream she’d been so rudely awakened from. She hadn’t seen the person’s face but she knew it was River, all the same.
It felt so good to have banter that didn’t require any effort. For a woo-woo person, your bedside manner is lacking. Where’s the sympathy? Still alive. Still mortified.
I’m stuck in woo-woo land. I’ll go look for my little violin. Did you want some company to make sure you continue to hydrate tonight?
Marina stared at the ceiling and contemplated the offer to hang out. Wish I could, but I’m working for the rest of the day.
While it wasn’t true, as she only had an hour to get the document done, and then Rob and Jeff were coming over, boundaries would be a good thing to put in place.
She wasn’t about to lead River on and let her think she was available for anything beyond a momentary fling.
Not that she’d asked for anything at all.
Argue well.
There was nothing more and Marina set down her phone, feeling a little deflated. Had she wanted River to beg? She clearly wasn’t the type, but Marina hadn’t been with anyone who had healthy boundaries and who didn’t play games in so long, she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
She headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.
She felt far better now, but another few hours of sleep wouldn’t have gone amiss.
She made her coffee and went into her home office, where she booted up her computer.
The document from Sheila was standard fare.
Re-zoning permission would apply to a proposed area of South Shore, allowing for taller buildings in place of the current maximum of four stories.
It would allow for larger commercial spaces as well.
Marina made a few small suggestions to terminology to cover any potential objections later and then sent it back with five minutes to spare.
Curious, she pulled up the area in question on Google Maps.
It was an older section, no question. Many of the brick buildings needed attention, some were clearly abandoned, and there were a number of vacant lots.
Trash was in the gutters, and potholes that could swallow children marred the streets.
It would be an easy sell. When she looked at the statistics, that was clear.
It was one of the poorest areas of the city, and it desperately needed the income urban redevelopment could offer.
She shut down her computer and stretched. She hadn’t heard back from Sheila but that could only be a good thing. Surely if it was wrong, she’d have heard about it within seconds of it landing in Sheila’s inbox.