Tap Dance (Dance Series)

chapter Twenty One



When is a 'walk of shame' not a shameful walk? When you could care less who saw you being walked by your Chief of Police boyfriend to your Aunt's door wearing the same clothes from the night before.

I turned to Ram on the stoop to tell him good-bye and instead he opened the door and came inside with me.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Ram pulled me into his arms and kissed me with such thoroughness that I was dizzy when he raised his head.

"May I see you after work this week?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, if you gotta…"

"Can I call you?"

"No, Ram, you should never call me again. As my boyfriend, I'm absolutely forbid…" And Ram put a lid on my teasing by kissing me.

He released the pressure of his mouth and rested his lips on mine.

"I will call you and we will see one another this week. And we will have another date on Saturday," he said softly against my mouth.

"I love it when you're forceful," I said our mouths still touching.

"I could tell, Pyari, from how sweetly your body sang for me last night."

Geez. The man was pretty good at having the last word.

He released his hold on me with a smile.

"What are your plans for the rest of today?"

"I'm going to the apartment, so that I can have a measure of control when I meet with the Claims Adjuster tomorrow and I have to get in touch with my cousin. What about you?"

"I'm going back to my house and sleep since a curly-headed sex goddess kept me up most of the night."

"Sleep well, honey."

"Do you want me to go with you to the apartment?"

"I think I need to do it alone."

"Call me if you need me," he said before dipping his head and capturing another kiss.

"See you, Sailor," I mumbled against his lips.

"Yes, I'll see you, Pyari," he mumbled right back.



*.*.*.*.*

For some reason, it seemed easier to walk up the steps and open the heavy front door of the apartment building than it had the previous two times. My heartbeat was only a little accelerated, my breathing only a little bit shallow.

I put my key in the lock of my apartment and took a deep breath before turning it and twisting the doorknob. I braced myself, but the destruction was no different than the other two times I'd been there and, for whatever reason, the lack of change helped me keep a grip on my emotions.

It was still bad.

It was still upsetting.

But it wasn't, at this viewing, overwhelming.

I kept the apartment door open, though. Just in case those feelings came back and I had to get out quickly.

I pulled out my small notebook and a pen and made notes of what I would need to replace and what was not destroyed. I was glad to see my mother's Hummel collection was untouched. My father had given her a Hummel piece on each anniversary. I'd had the collection insured since a number of the pieces were out of production and were increasing in value.

Ram had been right when he said all the soft furnishings and my clothes were destroyed. I had pictures and receipts for my bed and living room furniture but how do you place a value on your clothes?

The clothes from the dresser as well as the closet had been dumped in the middle of my bed, each piece cut in some way that rendered it unable to be worn.

My shoes were intact, but my handbags were cut beyond redemption.

I checked the linen closet and saw that it, too, had been ransacked. I added towels and bed linen to my list.

I was so focused on my list that I didn't realize I was no longer shaking and my heartbeat had gone back to normal.

This was a good thing.

A very good thing.

I was standing at the breakfast bar, still reviewing my notes when I heard Sara.

"Hey, Marianne."

"Hey, Sara. How are you?"

"A helluva lot better than you. Damn, they got you good, huh?"

"Yeah, they did."

"I hadn't seen it before. Man, this is bad." Her eyes travelled over the mess of what had been my living room.

"I'm meeting with the Claims Adjuster tomorrow and just wanted to get a list going of what I'm going to have to replace."

"Are you in a hurry or can you come up for a visit?"

"Loved to. Just give me a few minutes and I'll be right up, Sara."

She smiled and waved as she moved through the opened door.

I finished my list and gave another look around.

As soon as the Adjuster had completed his thing, I was calling the removal people that Jake recommended.

It will all be behind me soon, I told myself.

I locked up and made my way up to Sara's apartment. She lived directly above me and, since she was on the second floor, had a great view through her windows.

"C'mon in, Marianne. Soda?"

"Sounds good. Wow, I love what you've done with your place." Her color combination of taupe with vibrant leaf green and a lilac was feminine but not girly.

"Thanks. Have you given any thought to color change since your stuff has to be replaced?"

"Funny you should mention that! I have, indeed. I haven't decided on anything yet, but I have thought about it."

We both laughed.

"Sometimes things happen that force us to change even though we aren't quite ready to do it all on our own," Sara said quietly.

"Here's to change," I said holding up my can of soda.

"To change," Sara repeated holding up her own can.

"Has this thing spooked you guys?"

"Not really, only speaking for myself, of course," Sara said. "Julie seemed a bit freaked but she settled down. I haven't seen Layne at all since the party."

"I'll try and touch base with her, make sure she's alright." I pulled out my notebook and jotted down a reminder.

"Did you ever find Floyd?"

"Oh, yeah. Gosh, I should have let you guys know. Paul Adler found him at the Animal Shelter."

"That's good news. Are you still seeing Paul?"

"Mmm, not so much. I'm kind of seeing someone else now."

I watched as a huge smile crossed Sara's pretty face.

"What?" I asked, smiling back.

"This new person that you're 'kind of' seeing wouldn't happen to be a fine, exotic hunk of maleness that just happens to be the Chief of Police, now would it?"

I know my jaw dropped.

"How'd you know?" I whispered.

"Marianne, you should've seen his face at the party. I don't think you were out of his sight any longer than it took to blink. Everyone there saw it. In fact, I was surprised you didn't hear other people talking about it. And, then, when he showed up when the officers were called out? Girl, when a man shows up that fast and has you tucked underneath his arm within five minutes of being here? Shoot. It was a done deal."

I started giggling half-way through her speech and was full out laughing when she finished.

She may have had a point.

I remember his tone of voice that night I was walking down the hall. Now that I know him better, his tone was possessive, assertive and he was staking his claim.

Aw, geez.

I would've given him the freaking claim if I'd known he was interested!

"Speaking of men and watching people react, what's with you and Jake?"

Sara looked down at her soda can, her smile completely gone.

"Oh, honey. Sorry. Forget I asked, okay?"

"No. I've wanted to talk to you about it. So you can warn her."

"Warn who of what, Sara?"

"Caitlin. Warn Caitlin about Jake."

I tried to keep my face from showing any emotion but, as I told you before, I am terrible at poker because my face registers everything I'm thinking.

"I can do that. What about Jake, honey?" I asked softly.

Sara looked out the window but I could tell she wasn't admiring the view.

After a while she started to speak. To speak in a flat, emotionless voice.

"I don't remember when I first saw Jake. But I'd loved him for a long, long time before I was old enough to hang with his crowd. He was funny, smart and just great to be around, you know?"

I didn't say anything, but just let her talk.

"Not to mention, how good looking he was then. When all the other boys looked like boys, Jake already had taken on the silhouette of a man. And, those eyes, those crazy golden eyes. If he turned those eyes on a girl she was caught. And I mean caught with a capital "C". And if everything in the universe was aligned just right, then he might ask you out."

"So, it was a big deal to have a date with Jake, then, huh?"

Sara turned her eyes to me.

"Oh no, you didn't date him. Nuh-uh. You went out with him. Once. And every girl he had been with said the same thing. 'Stay away from Jake'. You got one opportunity to be with him then he'd act like he didn't know you as soon as you were finished."

"Finished?"

"Yeah. Finished. Because when you went out with Jake, you didn't get to go to the movies or for a burger, none of that. He would pick you up in his brother's ramshackle Camry and he'd park somewhere. You'd crawl in the backseat and …"

She stopped speaking, shaking her head at the memory.

"You'd hear from other girls, a LOT of other girls, saying the same exact thing. 'Stay away from Jake'. But the group of girls that hadn't been with Jake came up with reasons why Jake never saw those other girls again. Thinking that if they just had their shot at a chance to be with him, then they could tame his wild ways."

She stopped again, swilling the last of her soda.

"I listened with half an ear to both groups, the 'done-to' and the 'want-to', and just went about my business. But head over heels for him all the while. Until I got caught by his eyes. He was in his first year of college and I had just turned eighteen when we met up at a Frat Party. One thing led to another and I found myself alone on a couch with him."

She was lost in the memory of it, I could tell.

"I gave him my virginity that night. I'd been saving myself for him and I gave it to him thinking that we were a couple. That I was the one that was going to tame him since I'd given him my greatest gift."

She rolled her lips and caught them with her teeth.

"I was young and dumb. I just didn't realize that all the girls in the 'done-to' camp had the same experience as I did. Maybe he wasn't their first, but I'm sure the hurt wasn't much different when he turned what you thought were his warm golden eyes on you. Then after he'd had you, you realized that his eyes were cold and almost reptilian. I saw it, though, the moment he woke up and realized it was me snuggled with him on that couch."

She sighed.

"I don't think he even remembers it. When you have had scores and scores of women, how do you remember just one?"

"Can I ask when this happened, honey?" I asked softly.

"Ten years ago. April 28th, 2002."

"And you want me to warn Caitlin?"

"She needs to know that he is not the man he is pretending to be with her. He is the worst sort of man. The one that will play with you until he gets what he wants. Then he'll throw you away like yesterday's newspaper."

"Oh, honey," I breathed reaching for her hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too, Marianne. I should've waited and given my gift to someone that could've appreciated it." She said, her voice shaky and her eyes filling with tears.

I tried to steer the conversation to more neutral topics and then I left. I didn't know what to think about Sara's story. It was sad. But it happened a long time ago.

Would I be saying anything to Caitlin?

Absolutely not.

Because I knew the Jake that was with Cait was a different man than the one Sara described. The Jake from ten years ago. I had watched this Jake fall to his knees when he got the call that she was rescued from Fiona, the nutcase.

To his knees.

It was a sight I will never, ever forget.



*.*.*.*.*

I still hadn't received a callback from Greg, but then he never returned my calls. I drove over to Buxby's to see if he was working.

Yeah, he was there.

The little rat bastard.

I marched in and took a spot at the end of the counter, cooling my heels until he acknowledged me. I could care less if the customers saw me shooting daggers at him or if his little coffee place was crowded.

Could not give a shit.

I'd reached my breaking point seeing his mom's bills and him giving a perfect stranger, a perfect stranger, my telephone number.

Greg saw me, I knew he did. He was just ignoring me. Greg was a pro at ignoring what he didn't want to face. Which is why I always got the calls from his mother when she needed help.

Don't get me wrong. I loved my aunt very much. But she couldn't call her son, the darling Greg, because he wouldn't call her back. Notice I said, "wouldn't".

The little rat bastard.

I stood there waiting. And he continued to ignore me. The other baristas started whispering as they looked my way but I only had eyes for Greg.

"Greg, ah, your cousin's here." I heard the cute, little blonde cashier say. She must be new and, since she was calling him 'Greg' instead of 'Mr. Gibson' like all the other goof-balls he hired, she must be his latest excuse for not coming in when he should.

He ignored her just like he was ignoring me.

"Yeah, Greg," I yelled. "Your cousin's here!"

All of the behind the counter people immediately looked anywhere but at me.

Greg shot me a venomous look that completely bounced off of my Marianne's Righteous Anger shields.

"I'm not leaving, Greg!" I yelled again. This time I got the attention of the first set of tables as well as the behind the counter crew.

Greg made it to where I was standing pretty damn quick.

"Will you, for God's sake, shut the f*ck up!" he whispered.

"You need to talk to me, Greg. Now." I said at a lower volume.

"I'm busy. I'll give you a call. Now go the f*ck away, Mari!"

Oh, hello. No.

"Actually, the only thing I've seen you do in the twenty minutes I was waiting to talk with you, was to wipe the same bit of counter about forty million times and pat Cashier Barbie's ass . I think you have the time, Greg. Now."

"F*ck. You are such a …"

"Don't you even consider finishing that sentence, Greg."

He stared at me.

I stared right back.

Finally he jerked his head to indicate his postage stamp sized office.

I followed him back.

Correction, I stomped as I followed him back.

He is such a little rat bastard.

"Okay, Mari, what the f*ck is so important that you have to interrupt my business, to talk to me about."

Business-shidness.

I pulled out the bills I'd been carrying around for almost a week and held them out to him.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"They're bills for your mother, Greg."

"So?"

"These bills are for everything, Greg. She is so past due on all of them that she's going to be turned over for collections if they're not paid."

"Why hasn't she paid them?"

"How would I know, Greg?"

"Well, you two are pretty tight and you're always doing stuff for her."

He is such a little rat bastard.

I took a deep breath that I hoped to God it would help calm me.

"I help your mother, Greg, because you won't pick up her calls and, even when she leaves a message, you don't call her back."

"Stay out of it, Mari," he sneered. "The relationship I have with my mother is none of your…"

Oh, hello. No.

"Don't you freaking finish that sentence, Greg. You don't have a relationship with your mother. None. And don't try to play it off to me, to me, like you're all tight with your moms, okay?"

He just stared at me.

I stared right back. I was better at the staring stuff than he was. Proved it when I was nine and I've gotten better at it over the years.

Oh, yeah, bucko.

Bring it.

"Your mother is going to have her electricity, water, trash, gas and any other utility you can think of, turned off this month. There's even a past due letter in there for the mortgage. The freaking mortgage, Greggy!"

The little rat bastard had the decency to start flipping through the bills.

"Now, here's a funny question, Greg. Why would there even be a mortgage on the house if your father had the kind of insurance policy that covered the amount owing on the mortgage and gave clear title to you or your mom in the event of his death?"

Oh. That got his attention.

"I talked to Caitlin and she is filing a lawsuit because she was screwed out of her inheritance. Her attorney, Sam McKenzie, says that there are a number of claims where the distribution of assets was not properly transferred. And, the common denominator in this little scenario? Mr. Layton Jamison. Seems he was the executor of all sorts of estates that just didn't follow the instructions."

"I know Mr. Jamison was appointed executor for Dad's estate. They were good friends back in the day. He wouldn't screw me or Mom, would he?"

"I don't know, Greg. But I think that it's worth talking to Sam about, don't you?"

He glanced down at the bills in his hand.

"Yeah, probably."

"Do you have the money to pay these?" I waved my hand at the stack of bills.

"If I don't, I'll call and negotiate with them," he sighed. "Is she eating okay? Buying groceries and stuff?"

"I don't know how tight this really is, Greg. She's a very proud woman. When I tried to talk with her about she said…"

"It's such a vulgar subject," he pitched his voice high to mimic her.

"Yeah."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not holding the stack of bills.

"One other thing and then I'll get out of your hair."

"Promise?"

"And the horse you rode in on, Greggy."

"Oh my God, you're quoting Crystal Armstrong?" He laughed. "When did you get cool?"

I just stared at him.

"The other thing is…" he prompted.

Oh yeah.

"I received a call from Niko who told me that you had given him my number. Is that true?"

"Well, I saw you two were getting along that night when you took that shift…"

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be seeing someone?"

"You? Ha!"

Oh, that was bad. That was very, very bad.

"Greggy? Don't make me get my boyfriend involved, okay?" I said with a low, tight voice to let him know that I was dead serious.

"Okay. I'll play along. Who is this big, bad-ass boyfriend you allegedly have?"

"Ram Patel. You know, the freaking Chief of Police?"

Greg's mouth made a perfect little circle.

And, suddenly, I had Crys in my head saying, "Boo-yah!"