Not Quite Perfect
Page 70

“Well, I don’t feel better. Making sure you’re okay is not putting anything on hold, it’s prioritizing what’s important.”
She toned down the anger in her voice. “Thank you. You’re important to me, too. But you’re going to London.”
“Mary—”
“I’ll buy a gun.” The decision was off the hip and not really what she wanted to do.
Her words were met with silence. “That should make me feel better.”
“Then I won’t buy a gun.”
“No. That makes me feel worse.”
Mary leaned against the counter. “Well, at least you’re open about your feelings.”
“I’m really not happy about all this.”
“I would hope not. I’m the one who is starting to cuss about it almost daily.”
“And you don’t swear.” His voice started to lose its edge.
“Nuns. They had rulers and Mary Frances wasn’t opposed to washing mouths out with soap.”
“And Our Fathers.”
She started to relax. “Don’t forget the Hail Marys . . . but those always felt wrong, considering my name.”
A long, audible sigh met her joke.
“Listen, Glen. I know our geography is not quite perfect. I think we both knew that going in. But for this to work, we need to trust each other on every level.”
“I trust you, Mary. It’s the dirtbag I don’t trust.”
“I don’t trust him either, but I’m not going to let him control my life. I’ll be smart. Have someone walk me to my car after dark, keep an eye over my shoulder. I’ll buy the darn gun and make sure I know how to use it. Maybe I’ll even get one of those stun gun things that Dakota has.”
“And a self-defense class,” he added.
“Probably not a bad idea.”
“I miss you, Mary.” His words were like a hot knife in butter, and they kicked her heart in all the right ways.
“I miss you, too. But you know something?”
“What?”
“Just knowing you’re there, that I can call you and if I really needed you to be here, you’d come—”
“Say the word.”
“It means everything.” She cradled the phone in her hands and imagined his face on the other end doing the same.
“Be safe.”
“I will . . . good-bye, Glen.” She started to hang up.
“No!”
“No, what?”
“Don’t say good-bye.”
She gripped the phone. “Why?”
“Just don’t. Say good night, or talk to you tomorrow. Just stop saying good-bye.”
The sadness in Glen’s voice brought unexpected tears to her eyes. “Why?” She knew there was something behind his lack of saying those words.
A long gap in conversation made her think he wasn’t going to explain.
“My parents said good-bye.”
Mary covered her mouth to keep from gasping. Two solid tears fell from her eyes. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay. Until then.”
Mary listened as her client, who was attempting to fix her marriage without the support of her husband, told her about her nonexistent sex life.
“Yes, I’ve gained some weight, but three kids will do that.”
“Does your weight make intimacy difficult for you?” Mary asked.
“We’ve always made love with the lights off. Even before kids.”
“What about—” A loud banging on her office door brought her question to an abrupt stop.
“Mary!” A woman yelled. The handle on the door jiggled, but the lock kept it from opening.
“Excuse me.” Mary opened the door to find Nina fuming on the other side.
“You told him!”
She should have seen this coming. Mary stepped out of her office, glanced down the empty hall of the office building. “Nina, I’m with another client.”
“I don’t give a shit about your other client. You told him I had an affair.”
With the volume of Nina’s voice, she’d just told the entire building.
“I told him no such thing.”
“He told me he came to you. That you confirmed it.” Nina tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“That isn’t what happened.” Mary hoped that her low voice would prompt the other woman to lower hers.
“You’re lying. And to cover your tracks you’ve called the cops on him. Who the hell do you think you are? Jacob is an asshole, but he doesn’t break into houses and fuck them up.”
“Nina—”
“That’s what the police said happened. Are you going tell me that’s not true, too?”
By now two of the doors down the hall had opened, and more than one head popped out to watch the confrontation.
“We should discuss this in private.”
“I’m done talking to you. I can’t believe you betrayed my trust.” It hurt to hear the words, even though Mary knew they weren’t true.
“I don’t know who I report people like you to, but I’ll find out.” Nina turned on her stiletto heels and stomped out of the building.
That didn’t go well.
Mary tried to smile when she walked back into her office.
“I think I should go.” Her client stood to leave.
“I’m sorry for the interruption. We can continue.”