“Uh. Well. Zenny and I are sort of working together now. Or against each other, depending on how you look at it.”
Elijah is immediately wary. “What do you mean?”
I explain to him about the building deal and the Good Shepherd sisters going to the press about their upcoming eviction. And I’m about to tell him about the kiss, I really am, when he cuts in.
“Look, you know I don’t see anything wrong with what you do or how you make your money, but if you do anything to hurt Zenny or her sisters, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Whoa, man, I’m not planning on hurting anyone—”
“I mean it,” Elijah warns. “Zenny has wanted this for almost ten years, she’s had to put up with our parents and her friends all giving her a rough time about it, she’s worked her ass off to meet her obligations as a postulant while she’s getting her nursing degree. Do not ruin this for her.”
“I’m not going to!”
“Sean.”
“Elijah.”
“I know you, and I know what you do to people who get in your way, but I’m asking you for the sake of our friendship to keep her safe. Do not crush her to make more money, and do not fuck this up for her.”
The guilt has teeth now, chewing industriously at something inside of my chest. “I’ll keep her safe,” I promise, and I say it to atone for the ways in which I already haven’t kept her safe.
“Good. Because I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
I sigh. This is bad.
“And you are fine with her becoming a nun?” I ask. “Giving up a normal life?”
“Who gets to say what a normal life is?” Elijah asks. “The important thing is having a life with meaning. She seems to find that with the Catholic Church.”
“But the Catholic Church is terrible,” I counter, pulling into the Valdman and Associates parking garage. “Their meanings are all about homophobia and protecting predators and treating women like second-class citizens. How can you be okay with that? How can she be okay with that?”
Elijah’s voice is dry again. “Because I’m gay, you mean?”
“Well. Yes.”
“I get where you’re coming from, and trust me, I have an entire dossier of complicated thoughts and opinions on the Catholic Church after my childhood, but watching Zenny go through this journey has reminded me that there’s a lot of good people in the Church. People who believe in equal rights. People who are dedicated to helping the poor. Gay people and feminists and activists working for racial and economic and judicial justice. So maybe the Church isn’t perfect, but the answer isn’t shitting on it. And for Zenny, the answer is supporting what’s good about it and working to change the rest.”
I think about this for a moment. “Does this mean you’ll be heading back to Mass?”
“Fuck no. But it’s why I’m okay with my little sister becoming a nun. Nuns can do great things and Zenny is going to do great things, and I have no doubt in my mind that she is going to help a lot of people this way. Besides, it’s what she wants. That’s the most important thing.”
“Okay, okay.” I park my car and get out. “I hear what you’re saying. I still think the Church is bullshit though.”
“I know you do,” Elijah says. And then, his voice getting kinder, “No one’s forgotten about Lizzy, Sean. No one’s forgotten what you’ve gone through.”
“She wanted to be a nun too, you know.” There’s a stupid ball in my throat as I say the words out loud. “It’s all she talked about.”
“I know. I like to think that she and Zenny would have been really good friends.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“I meant what I said though. Keep her safe or I’ll kill you.”
“Elijah.”
“Seriously. I know you’ve got a job to do, but do it without fucking her over.”
“Elijah. I already promised.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t trust you.” And then he hangs up.
Sigh.
I drop my phone into my pocket and rub at my face with both hands while I wait for the elevator. Okay, so things are not ideal right now—I’ve lied to Elijah (by omission though, that’s not so bad, right?) and promised to take care of Zenny, and now I have to go upstairs and explain to my boss why there’s not a plan in place to fix all this yet.
Sorry, Mr. Valdman, sir, it’s just that she has a really pretty mouth and a way of asking for things like kisses that I can’t resist.
Yeah, no. That’s not going to work.
The elevator doors ding open and I go inside, thinking. Clearly, I can’t trust myself around Zenny, that much is clear. And I just promised Elijah that I’d keep her safe, which almost certainly means not kissing her again.
Not begging to see her pussy like a thirsty man just craving the sight of water.
I’m a responsible human, and while I recognize that I’m what some people might call sinful and others might call an asshole, I would never force myself on a woman. I am more than capable of keeping my hands and eyes and words to myself; I’m more than capable of being around someone I desire and still acting ethically and professionally. But that’s not the problem—the problem is that Zenny asks for things and once she asks, I can’t trust myself to say no.
Because if she asks for another kiss, there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to stop myself. Definitely not now, not after I’ve felt how soft and eager her mouth is, not after I’ve felt the pliant mold of her compact curves against my body. If she asked for another kiss, I’d be on her before I could even catalogue all the reasons I should refuse.
And that’s bad.
Badddddd.
By the time I get to Valdman’s office, I more or less have a plan in place. Trent the Secretary waves me inside, and I give a cursory knock on the door before I step in.
“Ah, Sean,” Valdman says. He’s in a chair by the window, flipping through a file in a manner so desultory that I’m sure he’s not actually reading anything inside, he just wanted to have something to look at while he drinks more morning scotch.
“Hi, sir.”
“How’d it go with the nuns?”
I clear my throat, trying to muster the confidence and charm that normally come so easily to me. “Nothing’s decided yet, but I saw the shelter and I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of how to handle this.”
Valdman closes the file and picks up his scotch glass. “I’m listening.”
I take a seat in the creaky leather armchair next to his. “We need to find them a new shelter. Bigger and better and at no extra cost. I don’t know if we can make it happen fast enough to get in front of the story, but it will still do a lot toward repairing the image of the firm.”
My boss nods. “And you’ve already talked with them about this?”
“No, sir. I wanted to run it by you first. But the space they are using now is cramped and shabby. If we can find them someplace bigger, nicer, someplace that photographs well and will look good on the news, then we’ll be able to salvage this.”
“I like it,” Valdman says. “So long as it doesn’t cost us any money.”