I don’t know where I am.
Oh God. Oh my God. Is that what she was talking about? Trying to walk away from? Is that why she feels trapped? For a long moment Rake thought he was going to faint. No, manly men don’t faint, he’d pass out, he wouldn’t faint and oh fuck, who did it and where could he find them and would Delaney lend him money for a baseball bat? And some body bags?
No one will come in? Unless I let them?
“I’m sorry.” It sounded beyond inadequate. “Delaney, I’m so sorry that you were scared to—that you felt you needed to put it off. But good for you. I mean, it was your choice at the Days Inn, right? You had sex on your terms. That’s— Some people don’t even get that, you know?”
A shrug. He’d never known anyone who could be so eloquent with her shoulders. “It was a long time ago.”
A long time ago? She wasn’t thirty yet.
“Does this go back to that whole eventful childhood thing?”
Her gray gaze was on him, watching his face for—pity? Wondering if he’d crack a joke? God, please, please don’t let her think I would joke about this. “Yeah,” she said eventually. “It was.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I told you that. I mean—I really can’t believe it. You’re an entitled pain in my ass, Tarbell, but you’re sure easy to talk to. It must be the oh my God you’re blushing.”
“I am not!”
“You’re blushing even harder now!” she cried, delighted.
As annoying as that was, it was pretty great that his lack of control over the blood vessels in his face had cheered her up. “Yeah, well,” he mumbled. “It happens sometimes.”
“It’s sooooo cute.”
“Please shut up now.”
“Downright adorable, in fact.”
“I hate you and everything you stand for.”
That made her laugh. “That’s probably true. But getting back to my point—” She gestured at the newspaper. “My point is, I can barely order a meal in Italian.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You think you’re ordering milk, but you’re actually ordering coffee and milk. Which is why they keep bringing you coffee and milk. Then you force it down and glare through the rest of dinner.”
“That’s because it’s not so much Minnesota Nice as it’s Minnesota Passive-Aggressive. I’ll roll right up on a CEO who changes his mind about a charity pledge, but I’ve never sent a restaurant meal back in my life, and I’ve had some stinkers. And for the last time, whatever is in the paper you want to show me, just tell me already.”
“Here. Right here.” He pointed to the headline below the fold. “That jewelry/handbag shop near the Rialto Bridge. It says they had pledged a donation and then reneged, and then reneged on their reneging.” He thought of what Delaney would do to anyone who promised charity and then didn’t deliver, and shivered. Decapitation, probably. Followed by one hell of a long shouting match. “This is just the kind of thing you hate, right?”
“Yep.” She reached out and touched the paper, looking puzzled. “That made the news?”
“Guess it was a big deal. The owner had made a show of how profits weren’t letting him keep up his end, called a press conference and everything. So I guess it was big news when he did another one-eighty not even a week later.” He waited, but Delaney just sat there.
Huh. Where was a delighted smile? Not that he’d been trying for one. Just trying to keep Delaney up on current events. With a paper newspaper no less.
“Isn’t it great that they found the money after all?” he prodded.
“Yes, it’s great that they promised money they’d never miss, broke their word, then changed their mind about breaking their word.”
“I know you’ve heard this before—”
“Then don’t, for cripe’s sake.”
“—but anything sounds bad when you say it like that.”
“You can stop reading the newspaper now.”
Much later, when he found out exactly what Delaney was doing to people who renounced their pledges, he thought decapitation would have been kinder.
Twenty-four
At last, at last they were going to pick up his new phone! He’d check on his accounts to see if the snafu had been fixed and, worst case, would call Blake and beg for a wire, maybe thirty or forty grand to tide him over for the rest of the month. Then: shopping. Clothes, a new wallet, more clothes, and dinner with Delaney in the most expensive place in town, and he’d leave the waiter a huge tip, because he was a giver.
“You’ve been a good sport.” Delaney, amused as usual by his antics, was walking very close to him in the narrow alley. Which was just excellent. “And a big help.”
“‘Good’ might be overstating,” Lillith said, then squealed and hopped aside as he poked her. “I said might!”
“I’ve been a whiny bitch,” he corrected Delaney cheerfully, “and a most reluctant helper, and you know it. But I’ve learned to count my blessings, like every character at the end of every TV show ever. Could’ve been worse, you could have worked for the Red Cross. I’d have died of anemia by now.”
“That’s not how the Red Cross works.”
“I know, I was just kidding. I’ve donated before.”
Delaney stumbled on a loose flagstone—nope, she stumbled out of shock. He didn’t mind, because he got to put out an arm to steady her, and after that it was easy to hold her hand. Sort of a “just in case you trip again I can keep you safe” thing. Not that he was into that. Besides, he was using his other hand to hold Lillith’s hand. Because he was all about safety. “You’ve donated blood? Willingly?”
“You bet! I’m chock-full of O-positive goodness.”
“You liked it?” Her astonishment was a little ego-deflating, but at least she was too surprised to shake her hand free.
“What’s not to like? The finger stick is the worst of it and that takes, what? Half a second? Then you get to lie there for a few minutes and nurses fuss and say nice things to you and if you’re cold, you get a blanket, and then—cookies! And a sticker. That’s my favorite. Do you know how easy it is to talk to a woman you don’t know when you’re sporting a bright red ‘I donated blood today!’ sticker and have cookie breath?”
“Gross.” From Lillith.
“No idea.”
“Supereasy. It’s just so easy.”
“Yeah, shoulda known. Leave it to you to … nope. I won’t finish that, I’ll just let you have that one. Good for you.”
Cookies and blankets and stickers were reason enough, but Delaney’s delight was better than a hundred stickers. A thousand!
As they got farther into the street, it got more crowded, forcing them
(yay!)
to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. More people, too, and he had a minute to be glad, for a change, that he wasn’t carrying any cash, when Delaney reached back without looking and, spooky-quick, snatched at something. Rake looked and realized she’d caught a kid in the middle of trying to lift her wallet.