Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (32 page)

“Sir, perhaps
it would better for all if you just let her find a new job.”

“I may have to
endure this shit from Coco, but I’m not taking it from you. I need Carrie. She
is the heart—”

“And soul of
the company. I've heard.”

“She saved my
company from bankruptcy!” Why was he the only one who could see her value?

“And you’re
driving her into bankruptcy, so it evens out.”

“What do you
mean?” While he knew she was overextended on her credit cards, this was the
first he’d ever heard of bankruptcy.

“She has
something like forty thousand in bills from the Taiwan trip and all the clothes
you made her buy.”

Trent slammed
his fist on the hood of the car. “Damn it all, I’ve dealt with this. Only the
investigator hasn’t called me back. Why can’t anyone do their job?” The only
person who could make people do their job was Carrie, and he could hardly give
her this task.

Sam sighed
heavily. “Just let her find a normal job where she works nine to five and
actually gets paid.”

Trent had a
great desire to knock his driver to the ground. “You can join forces with Coco
if you want, but I’ll never give up Carrie. As to the money issues, I’m aware
of the problem, although I didn’t realize I owed her so much. With three phone
calls, I will put an end to any bankruptcy.”

He first
called Mars—the other one. “Give me the name and number of the investigator
again.”

After receiving
the information, he called the worthless son of a bitch. The man had barely
stated his name, when Trent yelled, “You have to rank as the worst investigator
on the face of the earth. I give you one simple task and you take a lifetime to
do it.”

“Mr.
Lancaster,” the man stated in a long slow manner, as if he basked in the sun by
a pool. “Good to hear from you.”

“Yes, but it
should have been
me
hearing from
you
!”

“I called your
number and talked to a most interesting fellow.”

Trent
grimaced, now realizing why he hadn’t heard back from the guy. “You spoke to
the Diggereedo fellow? He didn’t offer to sell you anything did he?”

“As a matter
of fact, he did.”

“Well, under
no circumstances indulge yourself while you work my case. Now do you have the
account number or not?”

“I do. Where
can we meet?”

“Meet? I don’t
want to meet you. I just want the number over the phone right now.”

“I need to get
paid.”

“I’ll send you
a check, but give me the number now.” When the man balked, Trent added. “Or
I’ll find a new investigator.”

The man read
off the numbers. Trent snapped his fingers and repeated them to Sam, who just
stared at him.

God! He missed
Carrie. She always wrote down the numbers he called off. Sam became a statue
with attitude.

“Hold on.” He
glared at his driver. “Sam, get something to write on and take this down.”

“Who are you
talking to?” the investigator asked.

“No one, just
my driver.”

“So he’s in on
this too?”

“No, he
happens to have a pen and paper in the car. Don’t worry. He’s no idea what
you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done?
By hiring me you’re just as culpable as I am.”

“Right, now
just read the numbers slowly.”

Sam wrote them
down and pressed the Post-It to Trent’s jacket lapel.

Yanking it
off, Trent glared at his driver then stormed inside and searched the lobby for Coco.

He saw no one
except a guard, whom he approached. “If a short brunette, cute-as-a-button
young woman comes in here, let her in, no matter how badly she’s dressed,
understood?” To strengthen his request, he slipped the man a hundred. He wanted
to ensure when Carrie returned from New Jersey, no door guard would toss her
out like trash again.

“Yes, sir!”

“Do you happen
to know which floor a tall lanky blonde went to?”

“Forty-eighth
floor, sir.”

Trent handed the
guy his card. “I expect to have a lot of openings in my company in the near
future. If you would like to work in a place where people are positive and act
as a team, give me a call. We’ll need a new lobby guard.”

“What’s happened
to your current one?”

“He’s over
ninety and my HR manager intends to retire him.” Trent frowned. “It’s possible
he’ll still show up for work, but you’ll be in charge.”

The man
smiled. “I’ll give it serious consideration, Mr. Lancaster.”

* * * *

Trent found Coco
in a dreadful office done in black shiny shit and chrome metal. Suddenly, he
longed for Carrie’s purple chair.

The thought of
Carrie, days until bankruptcy, redirected his thoughts. “Where’s my office.”

“You’re
standing in it.”

Gad, she had
horrible taste! “I have a private call to make.”

She sat at the
desk, staring at him as if the hint didn’t register. He knew she understood him;
she just wanted to challenge him for dominance.

“You look
exhausted.” He motioned beneath his eyes. “Almost like a raccoon—”

Jumping up in
a panic, Coco rushed out, no doubt headed to the bathroom to repair her makeup.
Carrie would have high-fived him for his brilliant move. He turned the lock on
the door and sat down at the ugly black desk. Using Carrie’s phone, he called
his banker.

“Tom, Trent. I
want to wire…” He wanted to make sure he didn’t shortchange her. If he overpaid
her, he knew she’d return it. However, if he sent too little, she’d never tell
him. Sam said forty, so he doubled it. “I want to wire eighty-thousand to this
account number at once.”

The banker
assured him he’d see to the matter personally.

“Thank you,
Tom. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.
May I ask what the money is for?”

Trent frowned.
“Why do you need to know that?”

“Oh, new bank
regulations…” His voice wandered off, just like Trent’s did when he lied.

“It’s to pay
for a child I’m planning to adopt.”

“What?” the
man squeaked.

“Cute thing
little about four-foot six inches tall.”

“Are you
serious?”

“No. I made it
up, just like you made up your reason for being so damned nosey.” He hung up
and smiled. With one call, he’d saved Carrie, both financially and emotionally.
While he’d go through hell here on the East coast, Carrie would be far away
enjoying the California sun and learning a new skill. He smiled at the thought.
She loved learning new skills.

Carrie jumped
when a hand rested on her forehead.

God what a
nightmare she’d just had.

She opened her
eyes and took in the sparse room with its green curtains, then stared up at
Detective Pascal. His brow furrowed.

Her horrible
week was real and continued. “Do you need to arrest me for something?”

“No.” He knelt
down beside her. “Although I wanted to arrest your former boss.”

Pain surged
through her body. Former boss. Somehow, in her week from hell, she’d lost her
job. Nor could she blame him for firing her. Despite her best efforts, nothing
would work for her. Honestly, she couldn’t have been more of a disaster if she’d
intentionally tried to wreak havoc and chaos on the world.

“What’d he
do?”

“Tried to
prevent me from taking your property from his penthouse.”

Carrie sat up.
She would have expected Trent to be happy to get her possessions out his place.
“Why?” Was it possible he still cared? Yeah, he liked her so much he had the
lobby guard call the cops. The answer came to her and she collapsed back
against the recliner. “Oh, I know. His lawyer’s taught him never to cooperate
with police.”

“Well, he
almost needed his lawyer,” Joey grumbled.

She rolled to
her side so she faced him. “I really appreciate you retrieving my stuff. And
sending Jenson to save me. Otherwise--” She recalled Bad Boss waiting outside
for her. “Things would have gone badly.”

With a
calloused hand, Joey brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I'd planned to
drive you home, but I’m not comfortable leaving you alone. I’m afraid you’ll
starve to death before you get over this setback.”

“I probably
will since I’ll be homeless soon, but I really want to see my garden. It
soothes my soul.”

“Do you have
friends who can look in on you?”

She nodded,
which was a lie. When had she time to make friends with anyone? She spent all
her waking hours trying to save Trent’s business.

I’ll have
plenty of time to make friends now. Only who wants to befriend a homeless
person?

On the long
drive home, Joey insisted on knowing what she meant by being homeless. Reluctantly,
she explained the whole stupid mess. “Since I’m fired, no one will process my
expense report and I’ll never get paid.” She pressed her head against the
window. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yes, but
before we change topics, you should know it takes far more than one late
payment to take away a person’s home. In fact, in today’s market, some people
live in their homes for years after they stop making payments.”

Finally, a ray
of hope. “Really?”

He nodded.

“So I might
actually have time to get a new job before I lose my house?”

“I am very
confident you will. I’d hire you if I needed an EA.”

Carrie smiled
and clung to this one parcel of hope. She had time to recover.

When they
pulled into her driveway, she stared at her garden in shock. She’d resigned
herself to the possibility she’d have a cremated garden, given the lack of rain
during the last week. Never in her wildest imagination had she expected her
garden to flourish in her absence.

What magic
dust had Trent’s gardener used on her flowers?

Opening the
car door, she walked down the garden path, taking in its wild exuberance. Not a
weed anywhere due to the newly laid cedar mulch. Even the height of the plants
had taken on an orderly turn with the tallest plants in the back and the
shorter ones up front.

She knelt beside
her favorite rose bush, breathing in its sweet fragrance.

“I see why you
wanted to come home. This really can heal a soul.”

Tears of
happiness filled her eyes. Finally, she’d made it home, and she’d keep her home
because she’d get another job.

God, she
couldn’t thank Officer Pascal enough. He’d sent Jenson to rescue her from a
life of true hell then personally retrieved her stuff and brought her home. She
needed to do something for him in exchange. “Would you like something to drink?
I don’t have any perishable food, but we could crack a jar of peanut butter.

He chuckled.
“Sure.”

She grabbed
her laptop and purse while Joey carried in her suitcase.

The moment he
stepped inside, he smiled. “This is a really nice place you have. Soothing and
comfortable.”

“You haven’t
even sat on anything yet, how can you call it comfortable?”

“A couch can’t
look so soft and not be easy on the body.”

Since she
thought it so, she ceased to argue. He followed her upstairs, carrying the
luggage to her bedroom. Normally, she’d feel nervous about allowing a man into
her inner sanctum, but she trusted Joey.

He’d come to
her rescue several times now.

When they
entered her bedroom she thanked God Sam had packed the sex toy she’d left on
the bed stand. Saved Officer Pascal and her from an embarrassing moment. Guys
never liked to meet their competition.

Joey stared up
at the skylight over the bed. “How do you sleep in the daytime?”

She chuckled.
“I don’t. But I can see why a policeman wouldn’t like it.”

“Makes the
room bright and cheery.” He sighed with happiness. “I’m glad you’re back here.
The penthouse had to be pure poison for your soul.”

Could she
blame her week from hell on the penthouse? Had the place sucked all her good
luck away? Or had being with Trent twenty-four-seven caused it? Always before,
she’d had de-tox time on the train then come home to her garden and fish pond.

“Oh, my fish!”
She hurried downstairs and ran into the back garden. To her amazement, it
looked even better than the front. Relieved to discover the pond still had
water and the pump still worked, she focused on her well-beloved, low
maintenance fish and frogs.

Joey came up
behind her and took in the view over her head. “How many fish do you have?”

“Not sure. I
can see some babies in the nursery.” She pointed to the section segregated from
the remainder of the pond.

“I don’t see
anything.”

“They’re basically
invisible until they get older, when most obtain color, then spend the rest of
their lives changing their colors to match the new fashion.”

Joey chuckled
and placed his hand on her shoulder. Since she blamed spooning with her boss
for getting her fired, she couldn’t risk her only friend by making the same
mistake twice. She knelt down, so Joey’s hand no longer touched her, and pointed
to a two-inch frog. “I named the frog Pewter. She has no feet.”

“A frog with
no feet? Sounds like the start of joke. What do you call a swimmer with no
hands or legs? Bob.”

She’d heard
variations of the joke a million times, so it only warranted a smile. “Pewter
has legs and can jump when she needs to escape something, but early in her
life, something ate her feet. One to the ankle and the other to the knee. I
thought she’d die from her injuries, but they healed over and, living in this
protected environment, she seems to do fine.”

“Maybe I can
take her with me on my trips to the vet hospital. Might give my buddy Carlos
encouragement.”

“Did he get
hurt in Iraq?”

“Yeah, he’s a
member of our squad, the only one who didn’t come back physically whole. Sam
can’t bear to even hear his name mentioned.”

She turned and
faced him. “Why?”

He sighed
heavily and stared at her garden. “Because Sam was the gunner and he believes
if he’d shot into the crowd sooner, the person who threw the grenade wouldn’t
have lived to toss anything.”

“Sam fired
into a crowd? With civilians?”

“Yep, and
that’s why he delayed action.” Joey breathed out. “You need lighter topics and
food. How about we order take-out from one of the many restaurants in your
charming town and have a picnic back here? “

“A vast
improvement to my offer.” She rose and returned to the house, catching her
reflection in the mirror. “What I really need is a shower. It will only take
fifteen minutes.”

Instead of
bitching and moaning, Joey assured her he could wait. As she undressed and
stepped into the shower, she wondered why Trent couldn’t be so nice.

She knew why.
His brain didn’t work the same, being a different species.

So why do I
love him so much?

Even now,
after all he’d done, if Trent asked her to come back, she would.

Why?

Her brain
tried to dodge the question, but she couldn’t let it. She had to understand
what drew her so strongly to Trent, and why a very nice man of her own species
didn’t interest her.

Even after she’d
washed her hair, shaved her legs, and scrubbed her body from head to toe, she
didn’t have the answer.

When she came
downstairs, dressed in slacks and a knit top, Joey sat on the large couch and a
frightened Spanish couple sat on the loveseat.

“What’s going
on?” she asked.

Joey tilted
his head and continued to study the terrified couple. “The lack of dust on any
of your wood furniture struck me as odd. Then I went to your fridge to see what
an empty one looked like and lo and behold, vegetables and meats filled every
space.”

Carrie intended
to claim it impossible, but realized who this young man must be. She spoke in
Spanish.

“Are you the
gardener Trent sent?”

Relief welled
in both their eyes as the man spoke. “Yes, I’m Carlos. This is my wife, Maria.
We have stayed here so no vagrants would come. We have taken nothing. I swear
to you on my mother’s grave.”

“I believe
you. Thank you so much for your hard work. My garden has never looked better.” She
smiled at the woman. “Nor has my house ever been cleaner.”

Her focus
turned to Joey. “This is Carlos and his wife Maria. Trent sent them to care for
my house.” She sat down beside Joey, who seemed to mentally struggle with
something.

“What?”

“If I ask to
see their green cards, my gut tells me they aren’t going to have them.”

“Then don’t
ask. You aren’t on duty. You’re here as my friend.”

His gaze
focused on her. “Am I?”

“What?”

“Your friend?”

She nodded.
“Can you afford to take me to a restaurant to eat?”

He rose.
“Let’s go.”

Carrie talked
him into ordering a stone oven pizza with artichokes, red peppers, and avocado
slices on it at Café Metro, while she ordered salmon with vegetables on brown
rice.

“If you really
don’t like it, we’ll stop by Stewarts and buy you a burger.”

“Can we talk
about your house guests?” he asked.

Her smile
faded at his words. “Hopefully, they’ve headed home by now.”

His stern eyes
drilled into hers. “Is that why you asked me to take you out?”

She met his
dark stare and nodded. “I didn’t want you to have to arrest a good man with the
same name as your friend.”

He pinched the
bridge of his nose. “You nailed exactly what held me back. However, I believe
in my job, and I don’t want to become the type of cop who looks the other way
when an arrest becomes inconvenient.”

She sighed
heavily. “You’ve had to do a lot of looking away with me.”

A faint nod
told her there lay the crux of the problem.

“I really like
you, Carrie, and I think once you get Master Trent completely out of your life,
you’ll settle down—

“And not break
laws every other day.”

“More like
every day,” he muttered.

“Do you need
to arrest me for housing illegals? I didn’t know they’d moved in.”

He ran his
hands through his hair. “You just told me you did.”

“No, I
didn’t.” She breathed in deep and told him about Sam mistaking her garden for
weeds. “I thought Carlos came out for the day then returned to Long Island.”

Joey stared at
her a long time. “I believe you.”

He said it
like “I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it slide this time without arresting
you, but next time…”

He leaned back
in his chair and motioned the waitress over. “Can you box these to go?”

Carrie watched
her barely-touched food leave the table. He could’ve asked if she’d finished.

God! He wanted
nothing more to do with her. “I can walk home if you like.”

“No, I’ll take
you home. But if Carlos and his wife remain on premises, I’ll ask to see their
green cards and when they don’t have them, I’ll call the local police and have
them arrested. And if you give the officers trouble, they’ll arrest you.”

She handed him
her keys. “Go to my house and do what you have to do. I’m going to walk home.
Hopefully, by the time I arrive, no one will be there.”

He stared at
the keys instead of looking at her. “I’m not the bad guy,” he whispered.

“No, you’re
not, Detective Pascal. You’re a very good man. You just met me on a bad week. What
you need is someone who believes in the law as much as you, someone like
Officer Jenson. I bet she has similar problems finding an upright citizen to
date.”

He rose from
the table and reached out, accepting the food bags from the waitress. Carrie
remained seated.

“You coming?”

Despite her
desire to stare at her feet, she met his gaze. “I can’t afford to get into
anymore trouble. Thank you for dinner.” She wished she’d eaten more than a
bite.

Handing her
both sacks, he sighed. “Not sure which is yours, so keep them both.”

“Thanks.”

“Stay out of
trouble now, okay?”

She nodded.
Just
leave already
.

Finally, after
another long stare, he walked out the door. She stayed for five minutes at the
table then carried her food to a bench in the park and enjoyed her still-warm
salmon.

Better than
being arrested.

Again.

She hoped
Carlos and Maria had enough time to escape, but she’d never know for sure, and
their fate would eat at her conscience forever more.