The Company You Keep (13 page)

She reached up and removed her swimmer’s goggles and her red silicone swim cap, then peered at the large round clock mounted high on the wall. She was checking her time—fastest yet—a good sign, but also registering the time of day.

She didn’t want to be late in meeting Lilah at Bean World, the local super-cool coffee shop on Whalen Avenue in town. Up until now she’d actually avoided her best friend. She hadn’t seen the point in rehashing the events of the kidnapping, but mostly she didn’t want to see the concerned look in her friend’s eyes. Lilah was this superempathetic person—unlike her, Mimi readily admitted.

But now it occurred to her that she really
wanted
to meet with Lilah. Because she wanted to ask her about Vic. It was only fair. Hadn’t Mimi peppered Lilah with questions two years ago during Reunions about her renewed acquaintance with their classmate Justin Bigelow, the onetime lady-killer and good-time boy? During that weekend, lo and behold, superserious Lilah had been the one to finally tame the wild man. Soon afterward, the two married and their blissful union seemed to defy the gloomy divorce statistics.

Mimi wanted to ask more questions—but not about Lilah and Justin. Well, she would politely inquire about their work in Congo and how things were going in their new house, not to mention the baby. And then she’d get to what really mattered—what Lilah thought about Vic. There was something about him that appealed to her at this stage in her life. Or maybe it simply was Roxie. Okay, she was a sucker for his dog. And the man went with the dog, surely? But the truth of the matter was, there’d always been something about Vic Golinski.

God knows, it wasn’t as if she was looking for love. As far as Mimi was concerned, love was a lot of fabricated hooey, with the exception of Lilah and Justin’s relationship. But for her? No way.

What she wanted to discuss wasn’t burgeoning love, therefore, but unanticipated glimmers of lust. And if she was going to get sage advice from the one person she truly trusted in the world, she would have to get a move on, especially because her mode of transportation was Press’s Trek bike.

Mimi hoisted herself out of the pool and walked swiftly to the women’s locker room down the hallway. Delaney Pool was a state-of-the-art racing facility—a welcome addition to the old dark and dingy gymnasium pool—and as an alum, she could still use the facilities for free. And, hugging her towel around her, she jogged in her flip-flops through the cavernous structure.

It took her less than five minutes to shower and slip on her clothes. She didn’t bother with the hair dryer, and instead whipped a wide-toothed comb through her chin-length hair, pulling the dark strands straight back from her forehead.

She barely glanced at the mirror to check on how she looked. After all, there wasn’t much to fuss about a pair of jeans and an oversize white shirt. Once upon a time the cotton blouse had been formfitting, but Mimi figured with the sleeves rolled up, it fit in with the “boyfriend” style that seemed so popular in New York these days. Actually, the jeans were new—two sizes smaller than what she used to wear. She hated wearing belts, and her old ones simply wouldn’t stay up on their own.

She bent over to yank out the old canvas knapsack she’d found in her bedroom and stuffed her belongings inside the big compartment. Then she slipped on the old pair of boat shoes she’d found in the mudroom. They looked like they must have belonged to Press at one time. At least they fit her—more or less. Kind of like the black zip jacket she’d “borrowed”, as well.

On the other hand, there was his bike. When had Press grown so much taller than she? Nothing like not being able to sit in the saddle the whole time. And when she had to stop for a traffic light, she’d had to balance her toes against the curb. There was no waiting flat-footed on the pavement with the crossbar so high.

After checking to see that she hadn’t left anything, Mimi banged the metal door shut, swung the backpack over one shoulder and headed out of the locker room and up the stairs to the top entrance of the building. The bike racks were tucked to the side of the walkway that ran between a large parking lot and Baldwin Gymnasium, the university’s multi-purpose sports complex. This section of the walkway—with the pool building on one side and the football workout facility on the other—was notorious for producing a wind tunnel effect that could almost blow you off your feet.

Mimi pushed open the wide glass door and in anticipation of a mighty gust of air, stopped under the concrete canopy to zip up and put up the hood of her jacket. Noreen had been right about the forecast—why wasn’t Mimi surprised? It had started to rain—in this particular location, sideways.

Mimi hunched over and clutched the neckline of the jacket around her chin. The sides of the hood blocked all peripheral vision. She kept her head pointed to the ground, her focus a few paces in front of her, and walked briskly toward the bike rack. The wind picked up and belted her chest. “Crap,” she muttered and bent farther forward, blind to anything more than an inch in front of her.

And smacked straight into a hard surface.

She yelped. Then looked up. Her hood fell back from her head. Rain pelted her face. It stuck to her eyelashes, and she brushed them off with the back of her hand. She squinted. She hadn’t bumped into a pillar.

She’d made contact with Vic Golinski’s back.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

VIC BREATHED IN THROUGH his clenched jaw. The rain soaked through the shoulders of his blue blazer and darkened his khaki trousers. A puddle had formed around his dark loafers. He was running late for a meeting with the California plant manager and he could just imagine the snarl of traffic on Route One. On top of which, his dog—his supposedly loyal companion—had decided to take a walkabout on the other side of the Baldwin Gym.

And somehow, despite the fact that there was practically no one on this part of campus first thing in the morning, and that the walkway was wide enough to fit a battalion of infantrymen walking abreast, some idiot had managed to bump into him—right where his shoulder blades came together and where all the stress of life always seemed to congregate.

He rolled his shoulders backward—hearing the telltale crackling of incipient arthritis after too many hits on the football field—and slowly turned his neck—yet more crackling—to get a look.

Why wasn’t he surprised? He hadn’t seen the woman for almost twelve years, and here they’d run into each other—literally this time—twice in two days.

“Listen, I’m sorry I bumped into you like that,” she apologized quickly. “The hood of my jacket was pulled so low, and I was staring at my feet just trying to make a beeline to the bike rack. I didn’t even see you there. I didn’t do any damage, did I?” She looked up.

“It was a low blow, but I think I’ll survive,” he replied, actually sounding charming—which despite his brother’s evaluation of his interpersonal skills, he was capable of being.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder to check that Roxie was still poking around at the far end of the track before turning the full weight of his critical stare on her. He noticed Mimi’s lower lip was blue and trembling. “You look freezing. Can I give you my jacket? It’s a bit wet.” He lifted it by the lapel.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She waved him off, looking self-conscious. “It’s just lack of body fat—it tends to make me chilly. But enough trips to Hoagie Palace and I’ll be generating heat like a furnace.”

He had to smile. Smile at her candor, her determination and her vulnerability all at the same time. He remembered his mother’s words from earlier this morning to avoid the Lodges.

How could he?

Then he looked over his shoulder nervously again.

“Something out there?” Mimi glanced across the field.

Vic pointed to the far end. “Just trying to keep an eye on Roxie. After my workout, I decided to let her off the leash and stretch her legs. Normally, she sticks pretty close, but this time, I don’t know. Maybe she’s picked up the smell of deer coming through here.” Roxie was wandering by one of the portals to the football stadium now, and Vic was in no mood to go after her. “If I start running after her, she’ll just think it’s some kind of game and take off.”

Mimi stepped to his side. “Do you have any treats? Something to lure her back?”

Vic glanced her way. The rain was easing up, but he noticed that several drops had beaded on the ends of her dark, spiky eyelashes. They were so long, he noticed. So dark against her pale skin. He was momentarily spellbound.

“Treats?” she repeated. “Dog bones? Rawhide chews? Pastrami sandwiches?”

Vic smiled. “Unfortunately, my goodies are at home or at the office. I hadn’t counted on her deciding to do a reconnoiter of the back forty.” He tried calling out her name, but all that elicited was a gentle wag of the tip of Roxie’s fanlike tail.

Vic sighed. “Obviously this would happen when I was in a hurry.” He gave Mimi a look of exasperation.

“I don’t know if this will help, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Mimi lifted her hand and, forming a circle with her middle finger and thumb, placed her fingers against her bottom teeth and whistled. It was the siren call to New York taxi drivers everywhere. And Roxie. The dog pricked up her ears, caught sight of Mimi and came running.

Vic stared, truly amazed. “You know, I’ve always wanted to be able to do that.”

Mimi looked sideways. “What can I say? One summer at sailing camp and I learned how to handle a rudder, blow smoke rings and whistle. Oh, and French kiss.” She seemed oblivious to Vic’s open-mouthed reaction.

Mimi squatted down and let Roxie run into her open arms. Then she pulled back and ran a finger along the indentations of Roxie’s furrowed forehead. “Hey, girl, why the concerned face?”

“Don’t take Roxie’s worrying personally,” he responded to her conversation with the dog. “She frets about the state of the world—everything, really. In fact, if you touch her the wrong way, or get too interested in a particular spot on her body—say, when I’m checking for ticks—she’s convinced she’s going to die.”

“Poor Roxie. No one should have to bear so heavy a burden—especially when so much is out of your control anyway.”

He watched the wrinkles in Roxie’s forehead relax as she lavished kisses on Mimi’s face. “It’s incredible the way she responds to you.”

“It must be the smell of chlorine from all my time in the pool.” Mimi let Roxie have her go, and then she gave a final pat and went to stand up.

Immediately, she grabbed the inside of her thigh. “Ooh. I can feel that. I thought I felt a tweak to my hamstring during the workout, but now it’s for real. Must be the cold. It should be an interesting bike ride.”

“Then let me give you a ride. I can fit the bike in the trunk of the car. It’s a wagon, remember? Besides, Roxie will probably run off if she sees you leave without her.”

“You could put her on a leash?” Mimi pointed to the plaid lead in his hand.

“She’ll whine like crazy, trust me.”

Mimi held up her hand, palm up. “Look, it’s stopped raining.”

“C’mon. You’ll only be injuring your hamstring more. It may have stopped raining—” it was true, the sun was winning the battle and peeking out from behind the clouds “—but your body’s still chilled.”

She frowned. “I thought you said you were in a hurry for some meeting or other?”

“How far out of my way can it be? Grantham’s not that big of a place,” he argued. “C’mon. Where are you headed?”

“Bean World.”

“Geez, Lodge,” he exclaimed, using her last name—jock to jock. Somehow that made it easier, more natural. “That’s only a few blocks out of my way.”

She looked torn.

He frowned. “Listen, if I didn’t know better, I’d say your refusal was personal. This makes twice in two days—not that I’m counting.”

She rubbed her nose, sniffed, then sniffed again. “It’s not, really.” She raised her head to look him in the eye. “I mean, it’s personal, but not about you, that is…” She toyed with the strap on her backpack, searching for words.

Vic arched an eyebrow. “If it’s not personal about me, are you saying it’s personal—meaning
you?
” He pointed.

Roxie, sitting between them, gazed from one human to the other.

“Mimi?” Vic prodded her when she didn’t reply.

Mimi shifted her gaze to the wide expanse of sky. “Hey, look. A double rainbow. I can’t remember the last time I saw one. Maybe Mongolia when I was getting a demonstration on falcon hunting?”

“Mimi?”

“Or was it Reno?” She acted like she hadn’t heard him. “I remember eating at this Italian restaurant—not bad, actually—and coming out and looking across the street at a pawnshop, and overhead were two rainbows.”

“Mimi? Look at me.”

Mimi eyed him nervously.

“It’s not me. It’s the car that’s got you spooked, isn’t it?”

She nodded—barely. “No one ever said you were dumb.”

“I don’t know—I believe you said as much twelve years ago.”