Chapter 19
Farber’s Fourth Law of Relationships
“Necessity is the mother of strange bedfellows.”
Crystal didn’t say a thing when Toni wandered into her office at noon, though she and the rest of the office staff fell silent and watched her as she made her way to Crystal’s desk. Toni never came in late. Her assistant handed her several message slips and gave her an encouraging smile. Once in her office, Toni stood in front of one of her full-length mirrors. Her business suit looked neat and freshly pressed, but she exuded a pale melancholy, suggesting she’d been told she had a fatal disease and was determined to prove it.
She’d forgotten her briefcase, but it didn’t matter. With a sigh, she fell into her desk chair and surveyed the phone messages. Half were from Bateman, another third from Pendergast, and the remaining work related, real work or worse, family, but nothing from BJ. Why did she think he would call? And if he did, what could she say? She felt like crap.
She called Bateman’s office. His secretary put her through immediately, which surprised her.
“Crenshaw, I expected a report hours ago.”
“I just got in. It was a really late night, Dr. Bateman. You know, the barhopping, the experiment, being attacked by your private investigator.” When there was no response, she laid on the sarcasm. “Oh, didn’t you know? I was sure you already had a full report from Murda Security’s own, Martin Proski.” In the silence that followed, she could feel the volcanic hostility over the phone. “So, how is Mr. Proski?”
“What happened?” His voice a controlled whisper, Bateman sounded infuriated rather than embarrassed or concerned.
Toni told him, sparing none of the gory details, finishing with Starling’s conclusion that after Proski’s attack and the reactions of the women at The Alibi, the scent had proven too strong, too dangerous. “I don’t think he will sell either formula now .”
Bateman hung up without another word. Toni stared at the phone, but then shrugged. She called Pendergast and laid out the same story. It turned out that Pendergast hadn’t known about Bateman’s surveillance. He also abruptly hung up after she reported Starling’s decision. She stared at her phone for a long time after setting it down.
Well, any chance at the lead counsel position just died, eviscerated, and perhaps her job too. When Ackerman retired, Bateman certainly wouldn’t have her replace him, not over Yates or one of Bateman’s cronies. She laid her head on the desk, shutting out the light with her arms. A numbing emptiness kept her from crying.
She’d worked so hard, given up so damn much to earn the position that had filled her life. Yet, she’d been willing to sacrifice it all to keep Bateman from having BJ’s formulas. She groaned and called herself all kinds of stupid thinking about what she’d said to BJ. Feeling weak and listless, Toni hoped no one would see her, head buried in her arms.
She had no end game, no strategy in place when her life, professional and personal, hit the shitter. All she had was work. She sat up, picked up a pen, pulled over a document on her desk, and began to read it.
Toni labored through lunch with the French distribution contract from Pendergast, and when the clock approached five, she called Rena. When she answered, Toni hesitated. What should she tell Rena? Shit . “Hi, it’s Toni.”
“Well, you survived the experiment.”
“Sort of.” She almost asked about BJ, but instead said, “I could use a drink, You up for it? Is The Crew going out tonight?”
“Nope. We haven’t been getting together as much since you went MIA.”
“Rena, I—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m free. Sam’s got his doctoral thesis burning up a lot of his time, including tonight.”
“How’s BJ?” she had to ask.
“Good question. I don’t know. He came back this morning by taxi and had Sam ferry him to his driver’s test. He passed and came home again around 1 p.m. He went to his lab and hasn’t come out since, according to Sam.” Rena paused, but anticipated Toni’s next question. “I call Sam a couple of times a day.” She sighed happily. “He gives great phone.”
“No doubt, conversation loaded with helpful nutritional facts and suggested physical exercises.”
“Don’t you know it.” Rena cleared her throat and gave a detailed description of BJ’s bandage and bruises. “What the hell happened?”
Toni sighed out loud. “I’ll need some alcoholic reinforcement if I’m going to tell you. The Sarajevo?”
“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few, but if I’m buying, I expect the whole story, girlfriend.”
~ ~ ~
One of Rena’s favorites, the Sarajevo, was a Balkan restaurant at First and Battery. Over wine and an appetizer of brie and figs, Toni gave an impatient Rena a rundown of the events at The Alibi and the battle in the alley.
“Christ Almighty, Toni. You should sue Bateman and his hired goon.” Toni shook her head at the idea, so Rena said, “Fine. Why the hell didn’t you take BJ to Harborview?”
“The scent. BJ refused, afraid of what might happen.”
Rena gave Toni a furtive look. “But weren’t you afraid of what might happen if you drove him to your condo?”
“I kept my distance.”
“Riiight. For how long? BJ didn’t come home until this morning.”
“Rena—”
“From your gray aura and BJ’s silence, I’d say whatever happened didn’t end well.”
“Damn it, Rena. The man said he loved me.” Toni downed the rest of her glass of wine and slumped in the booth, waiting for her friend’s pithy observations.
“No shit?” Rena sat back with a happy smile and popped a fig in her mouth.
Toni waited for more but apart from that silly grin, her friend just munched on the figs. “What?”
“Sounds really good to me. What’s the problem?”
Toni crossed her arms. “You don’t see a problem? Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. You care for him —a lot from what I can tell —and he loves you. Sounds good to me.”
She stared at Rena. “Are you nuts? Me and him?” He frightened her, how much she wanted him. She’d never had a decent relationship with a man, family or not. She’d just end up hurting him —more —and she didn’t want that.
Rena sat forward and pushed the appetizer plate toward her. “Try the brie with the figs, they’re really good.” When Toni glared at her, she sighed dramatically and said, “Okay, what is sooo wrong with BJ?”
“He’s—”
“He’s crazy smart,” Rena interjected, “full of surprises, a drop-dead gorgeous, muscled hunk, and rich. I’d say from how worked up you are, he’s better than a ‘C’ average in bed too.” When Toni sputtered, Rena chuckled and said, “Okay, so what’s the big problem?”
“Rena, he’s an innocent. Emotionally he’s still a thirteen-year-old, and culturally deprived at that. He didn’t even know what a prostitute was.”
“Uh-huh. If you really believed that, why did you sleep with the thirteen-year-old? There are laws, missy.” When Toni crossed her arms and fell back in her seat, Rena cocked an eyebrow, saying, “Or were you just mindlessly lusting after his spectacularly adult body?”
Prickling sensations on her cheeks and arms led Toni to chug her glass of wine to hide her responses to the question.
With an impatient glance at her friend, Rena finished the figs and signaled the waiter for more wine. “You know what I like about Sam beyond the obvious?”
“He has guns?”
Rena pursed her lips and shook her head, chuckling. “No, Ms. Curmudgeon. He’s unspoiled. He isn’t as cynical as you or I. As experienced as he is, he’s still open, trusting and yeah, a boy in some ways, but with a rock-solid core. It’s endearing and refreshing.”
The waiter brought them another bottle of wine and their entrée. After attacking their Balkan Lamb and Leek Pie, Rena looked up. “I think that’s one reason that Sam and BJ get along so well. A similar view of the world.”
“Don’t tell me you think BJ is as emotionally mature as your Sam.”
“My Sam. I like that.” Rena happily took the time to take a long, considered swig of the ?ilavkawhite they’d ordered. “So, tell me, Oh Woman of the World, of the men you’ve known, who has proven to be emotionally mature?”
After a second’s reflection, both women burst out laughing. The two finally slowed to a chuckle when they saw other patrons looking at them. Wiping away a tear, Rena said, “I’m trying to imagine the kind of angry you faced with BJ. I’ve heard he’s gotten mad at you before.”
Of all the things to say that was the most embarrassing. Toni bit out, “I suppose Sam told you that?” Rena nodded but waited expectantly. Toni took a deep breath and said, “He didn’t get mad at all,” still amazed that he hadn’t and more astonished that she hadn’t considered that fact until now. Most men did with far less provocation.
“Come on. What did he do? What did he say?”
“He told me how he fell in love with me.” Toni related BJ’s story and then sighed. “I told him that it couldn’t be real love, just . . .”
“Puppy love?”
With a chastising squint, Toni said, “ No. He thanked me for not using that term. I said I could believe an attraction, but falling in love during a half-hour meeting two years ago? Not reasonable at all.”
Rena chortled. “Reasonable? Love?” Annoyed at Rena’s comment, Toni didn’t respond. Rena cocked her head thoughtfully. “But he didn’t get mad?”
“No.” There was wonder in her tone. “In fact, he didn’t blame me for, well, for not accepting his declaration as real.” God, that’s what she’d done. Toni frowned hard, remembering why she’d acted the way she had. He’d scared her. “He said he knew what he was doing and hadn’t expected me to feel the same way about him.”
“Well, there’s something new.” Rena scooted over and filled Toni’s wineglass. “So why did he wait two years to tell you he loved you, or do you think it was just PCMR?”
“What?”
“Post Coitus Male Reflex?”
“Rena!” Toni slapped Rena’s arm. Then she emptied the wine bottle into her glass, downed it in one gulp, and called for the check. She didn’t say any more until they left the restaurant. She linked arms with Rena, but realized she felt worse than she had before dinner. She’d avoided reflecting on the morning. The whys were now evident.
“He said he didn’t tell me because he knew me and didn’t want to hear what I would say to his confession of love.” She couldn’t ignore it now that she’d said it out loud. Her stomach abruptly dropped to her feet like it had a few years back when she’d dived off a bridge bungee-jumping. Closing her eyes against the sensation, she swore and then said, “It seems he did know what I would say.”
“Ouch. Then what did he do?”
“He left.” She felt miserable, the emotional ache a lead weight in her chest.
“That’s it?” Rena remained quiet until they reached their cars. “I don’t know, girlfriend. Could BJ have given you an honest-to-God example of what an emotionally mature male would do?”
When Toni got back to her apartment, she did something she hadn’t done since she was seventeen. She cried herself to sleep.
~ ~ ~
The natty, straw-haired toothpick in the three-piece suit across the conference room table selected another one of his legions of sharpened pencils and inspected it. Toni was convinced Childers’ only purpose in life involved torturing her with his inane behavior. The French perfume company Lélégance wanted a European distribution contract with Rayaneta. Of course, Childers had ignored the boiler-plate forms and her notes, producing a contract with massive loopholes, inviting abuse and litigation on every page. Naturally, the lawyers from Lélégance loved the mess, so Childers considered his work was done.
He had wasted her entire week with his dumb-ass objections while Pendergast complained about the holdup in negotiations all while Toni repaired the contracts. Of course, as lead counsel, it should be Ackerman’s job, but he seemed to be ‘on vacation,’ so Toni had persuaded Rich to let her do damage control. She’d have to sooner or later.
She glared at Childers, who had not written a damn thing on his legal pad in the last two hours while she had gone through the entire contract showing him where it needed to be changed, the idiot. He’d only screw up the rewrite, ignoring her suggestions.
“Are we done here?” Childers asked as prissy as a French headwaiter. “I have a five o’clock appointment.” He collected his pencils without waiting for an answer. “It’s terribly important.”
“I can only imagine.” She didn’t say another word when Childers left the conference room, but then neither did he. Toni stifled a growl, figuring she should be thankful.
Toni leaned her elbows on the table and gazed through the glass walls out at the office staff circulating among the cubicles which packed the floor of the Legal Department. For 6 years this had been her world, and for what? She rubbed her forehead.
She sat alone with her thoughts again and she hated it. Since the dinner with Rena a week ago, she’d worked nonstop to avoid thinking, to ignore the ache always burning in the back of her throat. It was Friday again, and she’d failed completely because every hour she’d thought of BJ, thought about calling him without knowing what she could say, wondering if ‘knowing her’ as he did, he wanted her to call, or decided he wasn’t interested in knowing her anymore. He did tell her that he didn’t waste his time on people who didn’t like him, or he didn’t like.
Toni ran a hand through her hair disgusted with herself. The fear of rejection roiled like acid under her heart. Though he’d proven to be very different, she’d been afraid BJ would turn out to be no more trustworthy than her brothers, her father, or the men she’d known since. She couldn’t be sure BJ could still like her. Maybe she should let it go. She could hurt BJ more if she did get closer to him. It had been so easy to keep men at arm’s length and so hard with BJ. She rubbed her face in frustration. She wasn’t good at fretting. She had to do something. But what?
Toni was still staring at nothing, absorbed in her thoughts, when a large figure passed outside the windows of the conference room. She did a double take. Starling! She collected herself and ran to the elevator. There he stood looking up at the lights signaling the floors as the elevator descended, beating a thick manila envelope against his thigh.
“BJ?”
He started, but then turned and calmly gazed at her for a moment. “Toni.” Tall and compelling in an elegant light brown suit he stood silently making it damned hard to think straight.
“Uh, I’m glad I caught you. Can-Can we talk?”
“About what?” He waved a hand. “Toni, there’s no need. I understand how you feel.”
“No you don’t!”
He drew his head back at her vehemence. “All right, I don’t.”
Toni looked around. A number of the office staff were watching them expectantly. She lowered her voice and stepped closer. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“I can’t. There is someplace I have to be right now.”
“Tonight?”
He shook his head.
She felt panic build. This was a new experience, chasing after a man. She didn’t think she’d survive rejection, not now, not with him. “Tomorrow?”
“I have . . .” BJ stopped and studied her, making her feel more naked before him than in the shower. “Okay, tomorrow. How would you like to join me, Rena, Sam, and other friends running in the Tough Mudder?”
“The what?” Is he jerking me around? Did I hurt him that badly?
“It’s sort of an extreme marathon. It’s a 12-mile run with obstacles along the way. One of our group had to drop out today, so her slot is open.”
“I-I haven’t trained. BJ, I want to talk to you, not kill myself.” Was this a test?
“Oh, you’re in good shape,” he said, an impish smile playing on his lips. “We can talk afterwards.” Before she could suggest other options, he said, “I’m booked tomorrow night, Sunday, and all of next week.”
At his innuendo about her shape, she gave him a disgusted look, but acquiesced. If she still had a chance to make this right, it was worth the risk or the embarrassment. “Fine. Where?”
“It’s south of Renton on Pike Coal Company land, but come by my house. We’re all meeting there and will go down together. You’ll enjoy the others.” BJ smiled that charming open smile that made her melt.
She steeled herself, and asked, “And who are these others ?”
“Oh, lab-rats from Rayaneta, other scientists, as well as a few of Sam’s acquaintances from Washington University. Then there’s Tracy, you remember her?”
His nonverbal coach and bed partner. Great . “Yes.”
“Terrific. Look up the Tough Mudder Seattle website. It’ll show you what to expect and what you should wear.” The elevator opened and he stepped in among several other passengers. It was quitting time. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at my place, six-thirty sharp.”
Toni gasped. “Six-thirty?”
BJ nodded with an amused glint in his eye, but then gave her a pointed look. “Just so you know, Toni. Whatever you want to see me about, I refuse to be your occasional booty call.”
The other people in the elevator stared at him and then her with a mixture of shock and mirth.
Toni’s face heated. “You sack of—” She caught herself and glared at him. “I am not talking about . . .”
BJ grinned and said “Gotcha” as the elevators closed. The entire floor was chuckling behind their computer screens when she stalked through the cubicle maze to the conference room. That was the meanest thing she’d ever seen him do. He was hurt. It wasn’t until she sat behind her desk that hope led her to smile at his practical joke.