Bad Habits Part 13

"I am. I had a little talk with Denny before I put him down in your bed."

"You did?" Kim smiled.

He moved in closer. She had to look up to hold his stare. He didn't touch her but he was closer than she and he had ever been. "He told me that the one thing his mommy needed was a break, a good time. When I asked him what his mommy would like. He said boat!"

Kim smiled and repressed the tears that blurred her vision. Mathew captured one that slipped to her cheek with the pad of his finger and rubbed it away between his finger and thumb.

"Denny likes boats," she said softly.

"Another coincidence. Because I happen to have one." He touched her face this time and she relaxed. "So what say you, Mommy? Can you, Denny, Danny and me go for a ride on my boat?"

"I-"

"We promise to be on our best behavior."

She smiled. "I've never taken them out on the water. They don't know how to swim."

"Another coincidence. I'm a certified life-guard from my other life."

She felt the warmth of his palm pressed into the side of her face. She was so tired, weak, and scared. Her life was spiraling out of control, and he was the only person at the moment that could keep her from slipping under. "Denny does like boats."

"There you have it!"

Kim nodded. "Okay, we can go."

"Thanks," he said, lowering his hand.

"For what?" she asked.

"Letting me be a friend. It works both ways you know. I need one too," he said.

There were two knocks and the door opened.

"Oh good. I have you both together," Murphy said, eyeing them both. Kim stepped back and put on a straight face.

"You were looking for me?" she asked.

"Mr. Dagwood has cleared you both. He doesn't want to pursue an investigation over the mishap. I'll need you to sign off on the paperwork. Kim, I expect you will deal with Lacy. She can return to work now."

"Yes, I'm grateful. She will be too. It was a terrible mishap." She looked to Mathew. He nodded that he had her back. She saw it in his eyes. She could trust him.

"Very well," Murphy said and then walked out. Kim sighed. Mathew touched her arm. "I'm serious, Kim. If Patel bothers you or anything, come to me. Trust me okay?"

"Thanks, thanks for everything."

She stepped to him and gave him a hug. She could tell it shocked him and felt him stiffen all over when her arms closed around him. But he soon returned the hug. She needed the warmth of his embrace today. She needed someone to make her feel safe. She closed her eyes to the sound of his heartbeat, to the feel of his arms around her. He was right. She could so desperately use a friend.

"Um, thanks," she said stepping out of the comfort. Too embarra.s.sed to look him in the eye, she hurried away, mindful to keep her head down and the smile off her face. Did he really take that psycho to task for her? She looked back once to his closed door and grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. Now she was going on a boat ride with him. Part of her couldn't wait.

Chapter Nine.

Mrs. Livingston Simone "Good game!" Andrew said when the golf carts were parked. Cain hopped out. He didn't bother to listen to the rest. He had tired early of the conversation as well as the company. Instead, he jogged up the steps to the club, deciding on the bar. He'd get his first drink of the day, find Maryanne and get the h.e.l.l out of there. Walking through the doors, he was greeted by the cool crisp air of money and polished furniture, the smell of the club. It was a welcomed relief from the heat of the day. Cain glanced back over his shoulder and saw Keith with his father in-law. The men entered but climbed the stairs to the cigar smoking room. Neither checked for him. Gerald had headed off in his own direction.

He was free.

He smiled. The small pleasures he lived off of were pathetic. Then his cellphone rang. Removing it from his pocket he answered. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Wsup, bro?"

"Joseph?" he said.

"You busy?" his brother asked.

"At the club."

"La-di-dah, check you out," Joseph laughed.

Cain snickered. "How's the wife?"

"Good, calling to tell you that we will be coming for the Fourth. We decided Martha's Vineyard can't be all bad. Besides, I really want to see you."

Cain sighed in relief. "That's great news."

"So call you later this week for the details?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Tell Maryanne hi. Talk to you soon."

"Bye."

He looked down at his phone. His brother's number blinked off. The best news he had all day.

"Can I get you something, sir?" Geeves the club manager asked. "Mrs. Gatlin wanted you to know she's in the sauna with Mrs. Hollingsworth."

"Sure she is. I'm okay, Geeves. Thanks." He dropped his phone in his pocket and walked off. When he entered the private room where the bar and dining area connected, he was quite surprised to find only one person seated. The lovely, yet shy, Mrs. Livingston.

Cain tried to swallow the smile that tipped the corner of his mouth. But seeing her alone was the first promising thing all day. Pus.h.i.+ng one hand deeper in his pocket, he observed her. She sat on the leather cus.h.i.+on of her stool, eyes lowered to the single olive resting in her martini gla.s.s. He couldn't see her face. Not quite. Her thick dark hair fell over covering most of it. It didn't matter. Even without looking into her eyes, her beauty was evident. She crossed her ankles. Her sandaled feet dangled. Her long slender fingers ran over the stem of her martini gla.s.s before it lifted and pressed to her full lips. She sipped, then lowered it. Again, her eyes never lifted from the bar.

His gaze flicked over when the bartender, Steve, asked to refresh her drink. She smiled and shook her head no. Cain approached, slipping to the bar stool next to her. She looked over at him, a little surprised by his arrival.

"Mrs. Livingston."

"Hi, Cain. Please call me Simone," she replied.

He nodded.

"Game over?" she asked, looking beyond him for her husband.

"Finally."

Her eyes reconnected with his. They offered him a chance to prolong the perusal of her face. Why she intrigued him, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was the eyes. He saw such sadness and warmth there. It was a glimpse of the woman she struggled to keep at bay. He just didn't get how she fit with such a stiff like Keith Livingston. The moment pa.s.sed and she looked away, and he missed the opportunity to prolong it.

"What can I get for you, Mr. Gatlin?" Steve asked, wiping the inside of a gla.s.s then hanging it above.

"Guinness."

Steve nodded, reaching to uncap a beer for him and pouring it sideways into a mug, measuring the foam. Cain accepted the mug and downed its contents quickly. f.u.c.k, he'd wanted a beer all day. Andrew Hollingsworth didn't drink. Bonnie filled that quota for them both. So today's game had been the usual dry one. His eyes slipped over as he lowered the gla.s.s. "So how was it?"

"It?" she asked.

"My wife and her mother, the inquisition."'

Simone looked over at him. He nodded that he meant what she heard. No matter of pretense with them now, at least he hoped. "Don't look so surprised. I'm married to the woman. I know her."

"She and her mother were welcoming. In fact they offered to throw us a party."

"You have my sympathies," he said. She smiled. Too much of a lady to comment he a.s.sumed. His head turned and his eyes fastened on her. Of course she shyly again looked away.

"My husband, is he... done?"

"He's with my father in-law. Do you want me to tell him you're ready?"

"No. He wouldn't care either way." Her Freudian slip peeked his interest. "I mean he's all business you know, and it's his boss so I know he'd be distracted." She sipped her martini. Cain noticed how her eyes went to the ashtray, and then looked away.

"You smoke?" he asked.

"Not anymore, kicked the habit. Bad habit."

He shrugged. "Some habits aren't all bad."

She frowned. "That's not true. Why else would they be called 'bad habits'?"

Cain finished the beer, ran his tongue over his lips. His glanced at her. "Because people with labels always want to rob you of a little fun," he said.

She blushed, but smiled. He liked that. He liked it a lot.

"One more, Steve." He motioned to the bartender. Simone s.h.i.+fted on her bar stool and didn't bother to finish her martini. She just kept looking away from him. He understood it. h.e.l.l, she didn't know him.

"So you've seen Castle Rock and Bella Sh.o.r.e Country Club. What's the verdict?"

"It's nice, different, quiet," she said.

"Boring?" he added.

"Well..." She turned. He liked when she looked him in the eye. He didn't understand why she kept dropping her eyes away. "Where are you from?" she asked.

"Boston."

"Aww, a Red Sox man?" she said a bit cheery.

"And a Yankees' lady. Got New Yorker written all over you."

"You know it," she replied.

He smiled. So did she. He felt a layer of the wall between them lifting. "Saw you the other night."

"Excuse me?" she said.

Cain arched his brows. He wouldn't let her escape his stare. He leaned into her personal s.p.a.ce to be sure she didn't. "When me and my wife had words. You were on your terrace. I saw you, though you tried to slip away."

"Oh, sorry. I had no idea you were-"

"Don't apologize," he chuckled.

She blushed. "She's lovely, your wife. How long have you been married?"

"Too long," he said bitterly. He caught the frown in her eyes. He needed to rein it in. It wasn't like him to put Maryanne down to others. Just to her face. "Five years."

"Wow, close. I've been married six," she offered. "Six years," she repeated. She looked up to the mirrored wall behind the shelves of liquor. He looked up to her reflection and their eyes met. He lifted his frosted mug. "Here's to marriage."

She lifted her martini gla.s.s. "Cheers."

"The tuba? The tuba!" Simone laughed out loud.

The club bar had filled up with those from the courts and the course, cooling off over drinks. Everyone except their spouses. She was working on her third martini.

"What's so funny?" he smiled.

"You said you were a jazz man," Simone teased.

"I am, I play the tuba."

"Cain, only fat kids in marching bands play the tuba. There are no tuba players in a jazz band."

He hit his lower belly. "Let's just say I got a lot of wind."

Simone laughed, she shook her head wiping at her tears. "You're serious. You play the tuba?"

"I'll play it for you. Got one at the house. I can do Yankee Doodle Dandee and Michael Jefferson's Beat It. Been dying for an audience," he said, with amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice.