Burn for You (13 page)

Dear Eliot
, she’d written.

I’m so sorry for running out on you that night. I panicked, for reasons too complicated to explain here. I’m sorry we didn’t work out, but I don’t regret our friendship. You helped me in ways I could never explain. I’ll just say I’m very thankful. On that note, I hope you will accept this token of my appreciation.

Ugh, “token of my appreciation.” It sounded so cheesy and impersonal, but she’d never been much of a writer. It was almost noon and the diner was filling up. Around 12:10 she felt deep disappointment. He wasn’t coming. Maybe he’d never come back. Maybe he would avoid Mack’s Diner like the plague forevermore because of her. Then at 12:15, he and a group of his buddies showed up.

When she saw him there, right there, as handsome and smiling as ever, she couldn’t help but admire him. She also wanted to disappear. What would he do when he saw her? What would he say? Maybe he would ignore her, pretend he didn’t see her. But no. His eyes scanned the diner and latched onto hers almost immediately. His smile faded and Molly felt a sinking in her stomach. He headed toward her with a grim look on his face. He slid into the chair at her table, his back to his friends, and gave her a look that was pretty antagonistic.

“Hi, Molly.”

“Hi, Eliot.” They both breathed in and out and the waitress materialized at that exact awkward moment to take his order. Eliot asked for a turkey club. After the waitress left he looked back at her, tapping his fingers on the table. Molly stared at those fingers. He had nice, clean, well-manicured hands for a delivery guy. She said, “I tried to call you a few times.”

“I’ve been busy.” Eliot shook his head and rubbed his neck. “No. I haven’t been busy. I just don’t think... You and I...”

She put a hand over his. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

He pursed his lips and Molly remembered what a wonderful kisser he was. She played with the edges of the envelope tucked into her book.

“Listen, Eliot, I wasn’t completely honest with you about who I am or...well...a lot of things. Not for any insidious purpose. Just because my life has been a mess lately. That wasn’t a lie.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Are you really a new widow? Or was all that made up?”

“No, that wasn’t made up. I’m just...” She squeezed her forehead with both hands, then gazed up at him, searching for words to explain. “I guess the two main things I didn’t tell you—that I should have—are that I’m very rich and I’m very weird.”

Nothing she was saying was cracking his cool facade. “Rich and weird, huh?”

The waitress was back, dropping a sandwich and cola in front of him on her way to another table. Molly waited as he started eating, took a sip of her own drink for calm.

“So how rich? And how weird? What do you mean by weird?” Before she could answer, he burst out in sharp, defensive words that made her feel sad. “You know, it’s my fault. I should have known you weren’t— I mean, I could see something was going on with you, but I don’t know.” He shrugged and swallowed hard. “I liked you.”

“I liked you too. We were good friends. And none of this is your fault. It’s my fault.”

“‘
It’s my fault.
’ ‘
It’s your fault.
’ This is a stupid conversation. At the end of it, things just didn’t work out with us. It’s cool.”

Molly grimaced. “Is it cool? You don’t seem cool.”

“Well, I’m not cool.” He put his sandwich down and leaned closer to her. “I have this awful feeling of incompletion, like the things I wanted to happen between us didn’t come true. I’m disappointed.”

“I know,” Molly said quickly. “I feel that too.”

“But at the same time, you made it pretty clear I’m not ‘the right person’ for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I appreciate your honesty. But I can’t be glad. I can’t be all like, ‘oh, hi, Molly, great to see you’ and shoot the shit like we’re just friends now.”

“I would never ask that of you.”

He made a soft, reproachful noise. “Then why are you here?”

She reached into her book and slid the envelope from the pages, pushed it across the table to him. “I wanted to be sure you got this. I’ve thought about this a lot, and...well. Please open it.”

After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up and pushed a finger along the envelope’s flap. He unfolded her letter, straightened it, scanned it quickly. Then he opened the folded-up check that had fallen down onto the table beside his plate. He blinked at it for a few seconds.

“Uh.” He narrowed his eyes and looked again. “This is a check made out for $300,000.”

“It’s for law school. So you don’t have to work anymore while you get your degree.”

“Molly...” Eliot frowned, then gave a small hysterical chuckle. “This is a check for
three hundred thousand dollars
.”

“If you need more, let me know. But my late husband’s lawyers said that should be plenty, even for a really good law school.”

He shook his head and put a hand over his mouth. She knew what he was thinking. That it was too much, that she was giving it to him for the wrong reasons.

“Please take it,” she said. “It’s not a pay off, or because I feel guilty or bad. It’s not anything, just me wanting to help you. Just me wanting to do something really generous for a deserving person. My husband would have liked his money going to someone like you. Someone who wants to make a difference.”

He gave her an arch look. “How do you know I want to make a difference?”

“You wouldn’t be working so hard to go back to school otherwise.” She twisted her hands together. It’s not like she’d expected him to jump up and down and hug her, but she’d hoped he might be happy, excited at least. “I have so much money I don’t need. Please allow me to do this for you.”

He looked down at the oblong, beige slip of paper in his hand and shook his head again. “I can’t really believe this. Is this a joke?”

“I know you probably think I’m loony, but no. If you don’t have a good place to put that much money, I have a lot of financial advisors who’d be happy to help you set something up.”

There was an edge of anger in his piercing gaze. “A lot of financial advisors? An army of them, huh? When would you have told me how rich you are? That you can cut your friends three-hundred-thousand-dollar checks just because you want to help?”

“I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think you’d care.”

Eliot put the check down in front of him, smoothed it out, scrubbed his hands down his cheeks, and then picked it up again. “What the fuck, Molly.”

It was a statement, not a question, so she didn’t reply, just sat and waited. He would take the money or he wouldn’t. She wanted him to have it, even if he was acting like an ass, but if he refused it she would live with that too.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this,” he finally said, his face still obscured with one hand.

Molly searched for the right words to say, to make him okay with it. “You know, I have a lot of lawyers, but they’re old. My husband’s old lawyers. Maybe I’ll need a younger lawyer one day. A really kind, young lawyer with a lot of integrity and an actual sense of humor.”

His face twisted. “You always say I’m kind. It sounds so...blech. It’s like saying someone’s
nice
.”

Molly flushed. She’d probably described him as “nice” to Mephisto and her husband’s lawyers about a hundred times by now. “Whatever. Do you see what I’m saying? I’m going to need people on my side, people I can trust, people I know. It would be great if one of them was you.”

“So this money comes with an entail, is that it? I can have it as long as I work for you when I have my JD.”

“Work for me?” Molly threw up her hands. “I don’t own a law firm. But once you’re out there lawyering or whatever, you can be hired? Right?”

“If I get into the kind of law you’ll need. Which sounds like financial law. Business.”

“Real estate, mostly.”

“I was thinking more about criminal law. Courtroom stuff. I don’t know. I guess I’m not really sure where law school will lead me.”

“You won’t become one of those horrible personal injury lawyers, will you? With those fake, sensationalist ads, offering people a free consultation?”

“Free consultations?” He seemed to consider that. “I don’t know. My time will be valuable. Maybe free toasters.”

Molly wrinkled her nose and they both laughed. Eliot ran a hand down the front of his work shirt, his expression thoughtful and finally a bit more relaxed. “All right. Wow. This is really a life changer for me. No more brown uniform.” He laughed abruptly, gave her his biggest, brightest smile. “I’m a stuttering moron over this. I’m sorry. Molly, thank you. I don’t deserve this, I don’t know how to repay you for it, but God, I’m so thankful for this. I’m sorry if I’m acting stupid.” He shook his head with a kind of wonder. “It’s just a really big surprise.”

“But it’s a really big
pleasant
surprise, isn’t it?”

“Pleasant? That might not be a strong enough word.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “My sugar mama has finally arrived.”

Molly sobered and looked down at the cover of her book. “I won’t demand any young lovin’ in return. Not that I didn’t—” God, why did she bring that up? “I feel like I have to explain—”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“No, I have to.”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “I know what Club Mephisto is. That place I followed you to. I asked around. You own it?”

Molly felt a wild urge to laugh at that idea, but the moment wasn’t that funny. “I don’t own it. I’m in a relationship with the owner.”

“A
relationship
.” She could see the veiled distaste, hear the disapproval in his tone. “It’s an S&M place, right? So I guess you’re his, what, slave or whatever?”

“That’s kind of private.”

“But that’s what they do there, isn’t it? He beats on you? Chains you to the wall? That kind of thing?”

“Uh, not exactly.” Of course Eliot wouldn’t know. Of course he’d have misconceptions. She understood it, but it still annoyed her.

“How long have you known this guy?” Eliot’s voice sounded tight. “He’s a guy, I assume? The owner?”

“I’ve known him almost ten years.”

That seemed to take a bit of the bluster out of him. “He knows you’re giving me this money?”

“It’s not his money. But yes, he knows. He encouraged me to.”

“Is he in charge of your money? Don’t give him control of your money, Molly.”

Her lips curved slightly at the urgency in his tone. Eliot was determined to be kind and protective, even now. “Don’t give him my money? Is that the advice of counsel?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry. My husband pretty much fixed it so no one can get at the money but me.”

“Was your husband... Did he know you and this club owner...?”

“Mephisto. His name is Mephisto. Yes, my husband knew him well. Mephisto introduced us.”

“Oh.”

Molly stabbed at her untouched piece of pie. “It’s complicated. It would be hard to explain the whole story.”

“You don’t have to. But if you were with him, why did you date me?”

“I wasn’t with him when I met you.” She screwed her eyes shut. “No, that’s a lie. He was always there, but I wanted to be sure he was what I wanted. Or maybe...I hoped you would prove to me that I didn’t want to be with him.”

Eliot looked as puzzled as she felt when it came to Mephisto. “If you don’t want to be with him, why are you with him now?”

“Because I have to be.” Eliot’s face went hard at that answer. Molly backtracked, holding up a hand. “No. Okay. A better way to say it is that I have to be with him because he’s one of the few people who gets me.”

“If you gave me more time, maybe I could have gotten you too,” he said with a touch of reproach.

“Oh, Eliot. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like... you meet a lot of people in life but there are people you meet who don’t just become friends or lovers. They become this deeper, more mysterious thing. There’s something about them you can’t forget, can’t let go of. This almost painful connection. That’s how it is with him and me.”

Eliot traced over the edge of the check she’d given him, over her scrawled note. “I thought we had a connection like that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget you.”

“You will. You’ll be studying. Meeting smart, well-adjusted law school girls.”

He made a face. “Is that what a ‘nice’ guy like me ends up with? A well-adjusted girl?”

Molly cut her eyes at him. “If you’re lucky. Crazy sugar mamas like me are overrated. Be glad you’ll never have to learn that firsthand.”

Eliot looked at his watch, then back at her. It was time for him to go, time for this strange, affecting interlude to be over.

“I’m so glad I met you,” she said. “I won’t forget you. And I wish you all the best.”

Eliot reached across the table and clasped her hand in a warm grip. “If you ever need anything... If that man doesn’t treat you right...”

Molly shook her head. “He’s a good person. Don’t worry.”

“His name is Mephisto,” he pointed out. “He’s named after the devil incarnate. The Dark Lord.”

“Ha,” said Molly. “His real name is Jay. Or Jason. Something like that. Wait. I think it’s Jayden.”

“You’ve known him for ten years and you don’t know his real name?” Eliot shook his head. “You
will
need a good lawyer someday. I have a mission now. I’m going to work real hard to hone my skills.”

It felt right to end with mirth and teasing. Someday some lucky woman would fall in love with Eliot, and Molly wouldn’t begrudge her his sweetness, his smile. Molly needed a different kind of sweetness, a fact she’d finally come to terms with.

She would miss Eliot, but she understood now they were never meant to be.

*** *** ***

Ah. God. Where was she?

Stupidly, Mephisto had warned Molly to take things slow, never considering how difficult it would be for him to follow his own advice.

Not that they weren’t growing closer, finding intimacy. He played with her every day, after breakfast, or when she got home from her volunteer jobs or the violin lessons she’d begun again. He tied her up, toyed with her, gave her cage time and then took her out and fucked her into a puddle. But that was all it was between them for now, playing. Carefully choreographed scenes for feeling out boundaries and becoming familiar again. He was going slow for her, to make the transition smoother and kinder. She was fun to play with, to control, not that he ever did anything malicious to her. No, everything he did—even the cruelest things—came from his heart, the heart she’d taken over, moved into, and claimed as her own.