A Child's Heart (Trent & Cassie's Story) A River City Novel (11 page)

He chuckled and took another bite of his pizza. “I’m
not trying to be sexist, but if a pack of women get together, they
aren’t going to discuss cars, just as a bunch of guys aren’t going
to talk about the needlepoint pillows on the sofa. I will admit, I
do know the difference between needlepoint and cross stitch.”

“I’m impressed, and you’re right. But I’ve also known
women who change their own oil and things like that.”

He swallowed his bite of pizza. “And you probably
take your car in every six months for an oil change.”

“No, they put a little sticker on my car that tells
me when to get it changed.”

He shook his head. “Not just women, but people in
general take their car someplace to change the oil, because it
really only costs an extra ten bucks to have someone do it. So, you
change your own oil to save that money, or you do it because you
find pleasure in being self-sufficient. I do it to save the ten
bucks.” He took another bite of pizza. “I do make a decent
wage.”

“Right now, I’m making crap, but I honestly like what
I do most days. This week being the exception.”

“Bad week?”

“Very, and I am looking forward to the weekend at the
beach, but you’ve failed to commit.”

A grin spread across his face. “We’ll come, and I’m
driving. I know my vehicle will make it there and back. I need to
pick up a pair of trunks for Shawn. What he had last year won’t fit
him.”

As soon as the waitress brought the check, Trent
scooped it up.

“Oh, no you don’t! Give that to me. I forced you to
come here because my car quit. The least I can do is pay for
lunch.”

“No way, you need a battery.”

“That’s what credit cards are for, and I’ll get the
tip.”

His eyes narrowed. “How far in debt are you?”

“I’m not, except for my student loans. I use my
credit cards, but I always pay them off. McGuire Investments
handles most of my money. They keep me straight. I’m not poor. I’m
very careful.”

“I’m very careful, and I’m still poor. I got the tip
covered. Let’s take care of your car.”

***

Friday morning, Cassie put her key in the ignition
and nothing happened. She called Trent.

“I don’t have time this morning to fix it. I’ll take
care of it later. Do you want me to take you to work?”

“That’s okay. I’ll catch a bus.”

That afternoon, Cassie was sitting at her desk trying
to figure out how to tie two incongruent shows together and get it
to the printer. Her appointment calendar was open and next to it
were the figures for the dinosaur exhibit. Her thoughts were
interrupted by a knock on the door that opened immediately.

She stood and glared at Hugh Fitzgerald. “Never walk
in here until I’ve invited you.”

“Don’t give me any of that crap. And why are you
going to the mayor behind my back? Are you trying to create a
bigger problem?”

“I have every right to go to the mayor.” She flipped
her calendar closed. “The way things are set up, the museum is
being screwed. I can’t run this place with my hands tied behind my
back.”

“I’d love to see you with your hands tied. Do you
prefer satin or leather?”

“You’re disgusting!”

“Next year’s budget is on the table. If you want this
job and enough money to keep the museum running, you know what it
will take.”

A small recording device sat next to her computer.
She used it mostly for handling random thoughts and reminders. If
she could reach it, she might have a prayer of a chance against
making a sexual harassment charge stick. She stepped around her
chair and pressed the tiny button on the recorder, and then a
bigger one that shut her monitor off. “I forbid you to come into my
office and make such a statement to me.”

“We’re old friends, and friends are supposed to count
on each other.”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Since when, Cassie? I’ve always liked you.”

“That’s very nice. Now, get out of
my office because I have nothing to say to you.”
Stay calm, don’t let him bully.

“I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”

He took a few steps forward and she found herself
trapped in the U of her desks. “I said get out.”

“Oh, no, Cassie. You think you can go the mayor and
get things changed? Think again. Your job is in my hands, and from
what I see, you’ve almost sent this museum so far into the red that
the City will close its doors. The City can’t afford such a
financial drain.”

“This museum is holding its own and I can prove it.”
She grabbed a pen and held it tight in her hand.

“Give me what I want and you’ll keep your job.” He
reached out to her, touching her arm.

“Take your hand off of me. The only thing I’m giving
you is the opportunity to walk out that door.”

“If you want this museum, you will give me what I
want.”

“And what exactly do you want, Mr. Hugh
Fitzgerald?”

“Why the formality, Cassie? We were once lovers.”

“You’re sick. Being sixteen and groping me in your
car doesn’t mean a darn thing. Seems you didn’t know the meaning of
the word no back then either. So here it is, and learn it this
time. NO! Now get out! You are not going to come into my office and
harass me.”

“You’re making a big mistake. And I’m big.” He raised
his eyebrows at her.

“You’re a big bully, and I’m not falling for it.”

“Your loss. You can kiss this job goodbye. You spend
one more penny for anything between now and September, and you’re
out of here.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Not at all. Just giving you the facts. You’re over
budget and you know what it will take to loosen those reins.
Personally, I’d prefer black leather.” He stepped away from her.
“And don’t go getting any more ideas of running to Bruno Giovanni
and telling him a pack of lies about me trying to coerce you. I’ll
meet you tonight at five thirty at your place. After we’ve had a
nice meal, we can discuss the museum like mature adults.”

“Don’t bother. I’m never having dinner with you, and
you’d better stay far away from my apartment.”

“Would you prefer my house? My wife is visiting her
family this month.”

“One more time, the answer is no! Now get out of
here.”

Frozen in place, she watched the
door close behind him. Her head pounded and she still had the pen
in a tight grip in her hand. Her body and mind remained on high
alert, as she expected him to walk back through the door.
I will not be bullied. I will not be
bullied.
Closing her eyes and taking a few
deep breaths she put the pen back on the desk, pressed the save on
her recorder, pocketed it, and slipped a flash drive into her
computer.

I don’t trust that
son-of-a-bitch.
She downloaded several
files to her flash, tidied up her desk, and made sure she had her
appointment book and other important paperwork. She was still
checking her things when her phone rang.

“Dr. Jones speaking. How may I help you?”

“Did I call at a bad time?”

Relief washed over her. “Oh, Trent, your voice is
pure bliss to me.”

A small chuckle erupted. “It’s nice to know I have
that effect on you.”

“To be honest, I’m clueless as to how any man can do
what you do to me.”

“Well, we’re going to have to be on good behavior
around Shawn.”

“I know. That’s crossed my mind several times
today.”

“While you contemplate the impossible, may I have
your car keys?”

“How soon do you want them? I’m almost ready to
leave.”

“I can be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Perfect!”

Cassie made sure her cell phone number was easily
available to everyone working the weekend. She was ready and
waiting when Trent came through the door.

“I need this vacation.”

“We need to get your car to my house.”

“Is this going to prevent us from getting away
tonight?”

“Depends on when you were planning on leaving. I’ve
got the new part, but I’m not a mechanic.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Cross your fingers.”

She blew out the breath she hadn't realized she was
holding. “Oh, dear.”

He grinned. “I’ll carry this. What is it?”

“My laptop. Where’s Shawn?”

“At playschool. I’m going to take your car, if I can
get it started, but I’d like you to follow me. Can you get your
things and we’ll leave from my house?”

Trent took her home and parked his car next to
hers.

She slipped out of the passenger seat and spoke to
him as he popped the hood on her car. “It’ll take me a few minutes
to finish packing. I did most of it last night. Do you need
help?”

“I’m fine I’ll catch up to you in a few minutes.”

She gave him a quick kiss and
scurried to the elevator. For t
wo days and
two nights I can forget my problems.

***

She looked over her the things she had packed and
made sure she had everything she needed. A quick trip to the
kitchen and she filled a brand-new cooler with a variety of bottled
drinks, some wine, fruit, and other assorted things. Then dumped
the last of the ice from the freezer compartment of her
refrigerator into the cooler, brushed her hand on her jeans, and
closed the lid.

The sharp rap on her door caused her heart to leap
with joy. “It’s open, come in.”

She turned around and froze.

~~12~~

“Hi, Cassie. I’m glad to see you’re ready. You didn’t
need to pack anything. I doubt you’ll be wearing anything this
weekend.” Hugh Fitzgerald grinned.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d pick you up at five thirty.”

“And I told you no.”

“Then why are you ready and waiting for me?”

“I’m not waiting for you. Get out!”

“Not until I get what I came for.”

“I’m calling security.” She took a dive for the panic
button near the front door, but Hughie grabbed her.

“Now you’re mine, and we’re going to enjoy a relaxing
weekend.”

“Get your hands off of me!”

“You always were feisty.”

Her mind raced, trying to remember a few self-defense
tricks she had once learned, but she was feeling powerless against
the large man, who probably weighted one and a half times more and
towered over her by more than a foot. “Let go of me!” Her sandaled
foot came down hard on his instep, but he didn’t flinch, he
laughed.

“Cassie. Stop this nonsense. We’ve got all weekend.
I’ll take it slow and easy on you. I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“You’re right. At sixteen, I was too scared to tell
anyone what you were trying to do to me, but the kid in me is gone!
So take your hands off of me before I kill you.”

The pain from his grip on her left
biceps ran to her fingertips. She had to do something. His grip
tightened further and her body bent under the pain.
Key!

Slipping her free hand into her jeans pocket, she
retrieved her door key and held it between her fingers. The ring
and head were tight in her palm. She knew she only had one chance
to make this work, and she was certain it would. She ran her
key-fisted hand straight up under his jaw.

He reared back. “Bitch!”

Blood ran down his neck, but she
didn’t care. He still held her tight.
If
they pull, you push in that direction.

“What the fuck are you trying to do to me?”

He grabbed her other arm and squeezed so tightly that
the key almost fell from her hand. Determined to protect herself,
she brought her knee up and made contact. He let go of her one arm
for a split second, and she swiped at the panic button, not knowing
if she had succeed in pressing it.

“You fucking, little bitch!”

Pain shot through her as he slammed her into the
wall.

“Cassie?” Trent’s voice called as he tapped on the
door. “Cas?” The voice was louder.

“Make him go away,” Hughie hissed in her ear.

“I can’t. I have his key.”

“He can get it later.”

She took another swing at Hughie, this time swiping
the key across his cheek and into the side of his nose.

“Agh! You fucking bitch!”

***

The sounds from inside Cassie's apartment were
muffled, but Trent knew something was very wrong. He tried the door
handle and it opened.

"Trent!" Cassie shrieked.

Every fiber in his body tightened as he pushed the
door open further. Suddenly the door slammed into him, knocking his
shoulder into the doorframe. White, hot pain ripped through him.
Cassie screamed. But was silenced midway.

Someone grabbed Trent and pulled him into the hallway
of the apartments. He was incapable of doing anything. The searing
pain still gripped him, as his hands were cuffed behind him.

“Dr. Jones? Are you all right? Dr. Jones?” A
uniformed security man asked.

“Yes, sir. I’m fine. Thanks,” a male voice
replied.

Trent stepped up to the door and hissed, “Dr. Jones
is a petite blonde female. Something is very wrong.”

A security guard pulled Trent by his cuffed wrists
away from the door. “We know Dr. Jones. Who are you?”

“Trent Callahan.”

“So why were you at her door?”

“We were planning on spending the weekend together at
the beach.”

The guard looked at Trent. “Yeah, right. I’m not
buying your story either.”

“Ask her.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk, when you are at
the police station.”

Four uniformed cops rushed past him and pounded on
Cassie’s door. “Dr. Jones, this is the police. We need to talk to
you. Open the door.”

“I’m fine. Sorry to disturb anyone, just a minor
altercation when the guy tried to break in here,” the male voice
replied.