On His Turf (24 page)
***
When I arrive I find Donovan sitting at a back booth by the kitchen and I immediately notice the open bottle of wine that’s sitting on the table. As I sit he starts to pour me a glass but I hold up my palm to stop him.
“I’m good. I’m driving.”
“I can always get you a taxi,” he suggests and I shake my head.
“No thanks, I have to work tomorrow and my boss is a real slave driver,” I say, grinning at him.
“Cute,” he answers but I get the sense that he’s not all that amused by my answer.
“So you said you had news?” I ask in an effort to speed up the conversation so I can get back to Matty.
“It’s always right down to business with you isn’t it?” he chuckles but his laughter sounds contrived, almost like he’s using it to mask his irritation. “Can I at least get you something to eat?” He picks up a menu and opens it and I have to take a deep breath to calm my own flare of annoyance. I pause to collect my thoughts as I choose my next words very carefully.
“Thank you for the generous offer Donovan but I ate about an hour ago and I have a friend waiting for me at home so if we could just discuss the story that would be great.”
“Your soccer player friend?” he asks completely ignoring my request and my head whips up to meet his eyes.
“Actually no, another friend,” I answer even though it’s none of his business.
“That’s probably true,” he surmises, picking up his full glass of wine and taking a sip. “I highly doubt that he would have waited at home while you came here,” he adds cryptically.
“I don’t really know what that means and quite frankly I don’t think I want to,” I say shortly at the same time my phone pings with a new text message. “Excuse me for one moment.” I say, swiveling around in my seat to look at my phone.
Shane: Where are you? I called Matt but he didn’t answer.
Carmelina: Downtown. Donovan needed to speak to me.
Shane: U at the office? What did that piece of shit want?
Carmelina: Not at the office. Sabatino’s. Still here and will text l8er.
Shane: No you won’t. I’ll be there in 15.
Shit, shit, shit, I think to myself as I glance over at my boss. This has bad news written all over it.
Carmelina: Do NOT come here. I’ll text u when I’m done.
No answer.
Carmelina: Shane?
No answer.
Carmelina: I love you.
I wait for a few seconds but no response comes so I swing back around to face Donovan. His meal has arrived and he’s ordered a plate of what looks like veal. He asks if I mind if he eats and I tell him to go ahead, suddenly very glad that he didn’t order me anything because the way my stomach is churning I doubt I’d be able to keep it down anyway. I don’t know why I feel this way since I’m not doing anything wrong - I’m simply meeting my boss to discuss a story. But I know that Shane won’t see it that way regardless of what I tell him. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes to calm my nerves. It starts to work, that is, until my phone pings with another text message.
Shane: I love you too, babe. That’s why I’m going to drown that asshole in his minestrone for trying to force a date on you.
Carmelina: It’s not a date!!!!!
Shane: Tell him that.
I look across the table at Donovan who’s chewing a mouthful of meat while watching me with open curiosity. “Was that the soccer player?”
“Yes, that was Shane.”
“He has you on a short leash,” he observes and I snort.
“Because that statement is not offensive at all,” I say sarcastically.
“I’m sorry, Carmelina, I’m just trying to understand your relationship,” he says as gives me an affectionate smile.
“It’s not really your place to understand my relationship since you’re my boss.” I stress the last word and he nods, albeit reluctantly.
“That may be true but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. We’ve worked together for years.”
“Thank you for your concern but I’m fine. Better than fine, actually,” I correct. “Blissfully happy.”
“Good,” he smiles tightly but his expression tells me that he thinks it’s anything but good. He dabs the corners of his mouth with his linen napkin and places it in his lap before speaking.
“As for the story. It turns out that the president of Petroleo was a former political nominee in the last Venezuelan election. There have been three assassinations, two kidnappings and a handful of disappearances and a lot of money that has gone missing both foreign and domestic. I believe now that there is something to this story and so I’ve pulled two researchers from downstairs to follow up on the leads you provided,” he explains and now that we are getting down to business he sounds more like the Donovan I know and respect.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely and he seems to relax.
“I should thank you. You have a natural instinct for this kind of thing and I promise you that when the time comes this will be your story to apotheosize.” It looks like he’s about to say more when his eyes flick to the entrance and his smile quickly fades.
I cringe as I listen to the heavy footsteps heading in our direction and hear the scrape of the chair across the floor. I look up to see Shane sitting beside me and he places a hand on the back of my head and gives me a hard, wet kiss before pulling back and leveling Donovan with a glare.
“Well isn’t this a cozy work meeting. Tell me, Mr. Tate, do you take all of your employees to Sabatino’s on a Sunday night?” Shane says flatly as he reaches over and picks up Donovan’s wine. He takes a huge gulp from the glass before setting it back down.
“He didn’t take me anywhere, Shane. I met him here and I was just about to leave,” I explain, giving him a glare of my own.
“My best advice would be not to talk right now, babe. I’ll deal with you later,” he says through clenched teeth. He doesn’t look my way when he speaks and Donovan’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Quite the caveman isn’t he?” he says, giving me a look. “Tell me, Carmelina, do you enjoy being addressed in a manner that borders on verbal abuse?” There’s a note of disappointment in his voice and I squeeze my eyes shut to try and block out my mortification at the situation.
“I love Carmelina more than anything in this world and I would never abuse her - verbally or otherwise. But I might take it upon myself to teach her lessons in other ways - ways that she practically begs me for,” Shane calmly replies.
“Stop it!” I hiss and Donovan’s face hardens.
“You are a bully, Mr. Mitchell.”
“It’s not bullying if I’m protecting what’s mine.” Shane stands abruptly, knocking over his chair. “Enjoy your veal asshole because it’s the last dinner you’ll ever be sharing with my girl.”
Donovan’s shoulders slump as he addresses me. “I am surprised that the independent, self-sufficient woman that I’ve gotten to know over the past three years would fall for such archaic and misogynistic treatment. You are not an object to be possessed and I would’ve expected more from you,” Donovan says sadly. Surprisingly it’s not his words that affect me most but instead it’s the look on his face - it’s not angry or insulted or even scared - it’s sympathetic which is probably the worst of all.
***
The wind has picked up outside and the brisk evening air blows my hair around my face as I storm off in the direction of my car. At least I found parking on the street right in front of the restaurant so I can make a quick getaway. I’m sliding my key into the lock when I hear Shane’s voice rumble from behind me.
“You’re coming home with me.” He grabs my arm but I yank it away and when I turn to face him my whole body is shaking in anger.
“I’m so not coming home with you. I can’t believe you did that! That was my boss in there!” I shout, taking a step backwards. “How would you like it if I went and told Coach O’Brien to go fuck himself?”
“Probably nothing he hasn’t heard before,” he answers with a shrug.
“That’s not the point Shane!” I protest and he pulls me flush against his body as his hands slide around my waist to cup my ass.
“Think about it, babe. Was there anything he told you in there that he couldn’t have told you tomorrow morning?”
I fall silent as I think about his question. “I guess not.”
“And a full bottle of wine for one guy?” He gives me a look and I exhale a huge breath as I bang my head against his chest.
“It’s only a bottle of wine.”
“Has he come on to you before?” he asks and I try to avert my eyes but he grasps my chin with his fingers. “Has he?”
“I told you he’s asked me out before,” I whisper. “But I always say no and I’ve told him that I’m not interested in him that way.”
“How many times?” he presses and I can see from the look in his eyes that he’s not going to let this go.
“I’ve been working at the paper for three years and he’s been my boss for all of those years and the mood seems to hit him every couple of months so…a few?” I try.
“Carmelina,” he says sounding angry.
“Okay, a lot,” I relent.
“And you’ve said no every time?” he asks as I stare into his eyes, noticing that in the moonlight his brown eyes appear almost black.
“Every time,” I nod.
“Then I rest my case. He’s a slimy bastard who wants to put his hands on you but he can’t so he’s resorted to finding ways to trick you into going out with him.”
“Look, I know he can be persistent but he wouldn’t do that,” I argue but in the back of my mind I’m thinking that’s exactly what’s just happened - I’m just too proud to tell Shane that he’s right. I mean, I know that Donovan is interested but he’s always acted professionally and treated the rejections with grace. I never would’ve thought that he’d stoop this low.
“Do you really think that he would make up there being a huge break in my story and put two researchers on the case just to get into my pants?” I huff out, hanging on to the very last of my argument.
“I would,” he says matter-of-factly and I groan.
“You really are a caveman.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He gives me a boyish grin and just like that I’m putty in his hands.
“I’m not coming home with you though. I’m still mad at you and Matty’s back at my place waiting for me,” I pout and he laughs.
“Fine, then I’ll come with you. But I’m driving.” He snatches my keys out of my hand and folds his large frame into the driver’s seat of my beat-up hatchback. I can’t help but laugh as I watch him fiddle with the seat adjusters to try and get it back far enough to fit his legs. He narrows his eyes when he sees me laughing and I know that I’m in trouble but it’s the good kind of trouble that starts a throbbing between my legs.
“Get in, babe. Let’s not keep Matty waiting all night because I have plans for you.” His last words hold a hint of promise that sends a shiver of pleasure straight down to my nether regions.
***
The mood in the car eases and not surprisingly Shane has me laughing all the way back to my complex and up the stairs to my apartment but the laughter dies on my lips when I see that my door has been kicked open. Splinters of wood litter the hallway and the doorknob is hanging off at an awkward angle. I immediately think of Matty and rush forward but Shane snags me around the waist and places me behind him.
“Stay here,” he demands, pressing a finger to his lips to quiet me.
He steps through the open door and I ignore his command and follow him.
“Shit, babe, you are the most stubborn creature I have ever met,” he grumbles and I watch as his eyes dart around the room. “Just promise you’ll stay close to me.”
I nod and press myself against his back as I take the opportunity to look around. The living room has been completely trashed. My crappy old television has a hole kicked through the front of it and my even crappier sofa has been slashed open leaving the stuffing falling out on to the carpet. My plant pots are shattered and dirt is scattered everywhere and my favorite mirror is cracked and resting on the floor. I grit my teeth when I remember that I don’t have insurance for any of it. But I remind myself that it is just stuff and that none of it is more important than Matty who I need to find right now. I don’t see or hear him so I’m hoping he got bored and went home before any of this happened.
Shane leads us through to the kitchen which we find in a similar state. My dishes are shattered all over the tile and the fridge is open with its contents spilled out on to the floor. But when we reach the bedroom I see that it is the worst of all of the rooms. My clothes are strewn everywhere and my five year old computer is missing. It also looks like my jewelry box has been rifled through, not that I had anything of value in it anyway.
“Why would someone do this?” I say to Shane in a broken voice and when he turns around I see that he already has his phone to his ear.
“I’d like to report a break in at 1881 Pleasant Valley Road. We just got here and the place is trashed but luckily no one was home.” Shane’s voice is tight as he speaks into the phone. I’m about to head back to the living room when I hear a soft moan float up from the floor. My head snaps back around and I race across the carpet to look on the other side of the bed. When I see what’s there I slap my hands over my mouth to cover the scream that rips from my lips.
Matty is lying prone on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his swollen face is so badly beaten that I barely recognize him. When he moans again I fall to my knees and pull him into my arms. I’m shaking badly as I look him over and I think I hear Shane saying something about an ambulance right before I pass out cold.
I wake up to the sound of a machine beeping and when I open my eyes I find myself gazing up at a strip of harsh fluorescent lights. I sit up quickly and look around only to see that I am on a gurney in a busy hallway wearing nothing but a blue hospital gown. It takes me a moment to get my bearings and when I do it all comes rushing back. My apartment, Matty, the blood. I must have fainted. While my best friend was lying near death on the floor I went ahead and fainted. What kind of friend am I? I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for such a weak and selfish reaction to seeing Matty hurt. I have one of those pulse-reader thingy’s clamped over my index finger and the monitor beside me starts to flash beep like crazy as I struggle to get up.
