Freaks in the City (19 page)

Some pregnant women liked to eat little and
often to stave off nausea. It was nearing midday so Jay decided to
make sandwiches—a safe bet when one was a guest in someone else’s
house. It wouldn’t do to whip up something more complex and earn
Marissa’s ire for using ingredients she needed for the evening
meal.

Next, she searched out the coffee. The
Davidsons favored instant freeze-dried coffee grounds, so mugs of
coffee would be quick to prepare.

By the time she set out a tray with mugs,
milk, sugar, plates and paper napkins, and two plates piled high
with a variety of sandwiches, a mere nine minutes had passed since
she’d exited the lounge. Pink had segued to Adam Lambert. Currently
she was listening to
Whataya Want From Me
. Mmm. How apt. The
lyrics could have been written specifically for her and Tyler.

She adjusted the position of a mug, moving
its handle to line up with the other two, and then went still. Even
over the loud music she would still be able to hear anyone
approach. No one would surprise her and be shocked to see her
standing inhumanly motionless. There was no reason to pretend to be
anything other than what she was right now.

Tyler’s comments about how it’d be easier if
she wasn’t independently wealthy, and was forced to work like he
did, slipped through her mind. Perhaps she should re-enroll in a
college and take some classes—just for appearances. But it seemed a
waste of time and energy when the lecturers and tutors couldn’t
teach her anything she didn’t already know or couldn’t research for
herself.

The term she’d spent at Appleton with Tyler
had proven how easy it was to slip up and give off a vibe of being
different, “other”. She’d been technically excellent at every “art”
form she’d undertaken, but had lacked the indefinable something
that marked the truly talented. Some tutors had been content with
her skill level. One or two had tried to push her to take risks, to
“loosen up” and “let go”. It was as well she had departed Appleton
before her inexplicable shortcomings had drawn too much
attention.

If she wanted to stretch herself, to
understand Tyler and what motivated him to consider her offers of
financial aid a blow to his masculine pride, then perhaps
employment would be the answer. Perhaps she should get a job.

A blink of an eyelid, and Jay snapped from
complete stillness to movement. She grabbed a mug from the tray,
switched off the element on the range, removed the pot, and sieved
the ginger concoction through her cupped fingers into the mug. The
pulp she discarded in the trash. Next she added lemon juice and a
dollop of honey to sweeten the mix. She boiled the kettle and made
coffee for Michael and Caro, and grabbed two colas from the
fridge.

A total of twenty-seven minutes had passed
since she’d departed the living room. Well, twenty-seven-point-six
to be precise, but this planned absence did not require that degree
of precision.

She scooped up the two plates, balancing one
on the flat palm of her hand, and the other on her inner forearm as
she’d seen experienced wait staff do. The tray was solid wood with
handles cut into the raised sides. Loaded up, it was too heavy and
far too unwieldy for a human to carry in one hand. Jay ignored the
handles. She slipped her fingers beneath the bottom of the tray and
hooked her thumb over the side’s raised lip. She hefted it and
turned to the man who’d been standing in the doorway, quietly
observing her.

“I’m impressed,” she said.

“Why’s that?” Michael Davidson asked.

“I thought your family would require more
time to discuss your issues. Unplanned additions to an already
well-established family unit, and sons with non-human girlfriends,
are not uncomplicated topics.”

His gaze flicked to her ear-buds. She noted
the moment he concluded any loud music that might be blaring in her
ears would not affect her ability to engage in a proper
conversation—the merest tightening of the muscles in his jaw. She
could have pulled out the ear-buds, pretended she hadn’t heard him.
But there was little reason to play human for Michael. He’d spent
five years learning everything he could about her, so he could
bring her in and turn her over to Evan Caine. Michael would never
forget what she was.

“My wife and son have come to a mutual
agreement,” he said.

“Good.”

He advanced toward her and Jay stood
motionless. She could detect no signs that he meant to harm her—no
elevated heartbeat, no flexing or tightening of muscles. He would
be foolish to try and she was one hundred percent certain he knew
it.

He reached out to pluck the plates from her
forearm and hand. “Aren’t you going to ask what the agreement
is?”

Jay transferred the tray to a double-handed
grip. “Tyler will tell me if he deems it necessary to do so.”

“You’re very trusting.”

“I trust Tyler to do whatever is right for
him.”

“What if he’s decided what’s
right
is
for him not to see you anymore?”

“Then that’s his decision and I will have to
abide by it.”

Michael snorted, the gesture so Tyler-like
that Jay smiled. If Tyler aspired to be like his father, that would
be a good thing.

“You’d just walk away? No covert
surveillance from afar? After everything you’ve done for Tyler—and
our family—I find that very hard to believe.”

“Believe whatever you like,” Jay told him.
“I can’t stop you.”

“You paid Tyler’s tuition at Wasserman.”

Jay reacted to the abrupt subject change
with a slow blink.

“He spun me some BS about scholarships and
interest free loans but I know it was you.”

“Yes. He’s not pleased with me for doing
that. We’re still discussing it.”

“Idiot,” Michael said.

It wasn’t clear who he referred to in this
instance. Jay needed clarification to enable her to respond
appropriately. “Me or Tyler?”

Michael grinned. “Tyler. Don’t sweat it,
Jay. Marissa was exactly the same way when we got engaged. I bought
this house outright for her as an engagement gift. The discussion
got rather heated but she came around. Eventually. Once she
realized I’d come about the money legitimately and wasn’t involved
with anything illegal.”

Jay accessed the appropriate data. In its
day, this house would have been pricey—far too pricey for a young
man to purchase outright with cash. “The severance package you
negotiated from the USAF must have been substantial.”

His reaction was the barest tightening of
the muscles around his eyes. “Of course you know about my youthful
indiscretions.”

“Of course. Does Marissa?”

“Originally I’d told her I cashed in some
shares to buy the house but I had to come clean and tell her
everything. She was never going to accept me strolling back into
her life after five years if I didn’t trust her with the whole
truth.”

Jay did the brow-raising thing again. It was
such a useful little gesture. “The whole truth?”

“Enough of it.”

“I understand.” Enough of the truth to
satisfy Marissa’s demands to know why he’d walked out on her.
Enough to regain a measure of her trust, but not enough to endanger
her. “May I ask a favor? A small one.”

“Ah, sure.”

There was a question in his voice, so Jay
hastened to explain. “I would like to use your computer to check
the online situations vacant in my area.” She could have accessed
the data remotely, but this was a good excuse to absent herself for
another period of time. And to play with Michael’s laptop.

“Tyler’s looking for another job?”

“No. I am.”

“Jay—”

“I’m doing it for him. It’s something I need
to do. And I would like you not to mention it to him. Please.”

Michael’s gaze roamed her face. “I
understand.”

And she thought there was a very high
probability that he did. “Is your laptop password protected?”

He gave her an adult’s version of “Well,
duh!” eyes. “Of course.”

“Will you tell me the password?”

“Of course not. Where would be the fun in
that?”

They shared a moment of perfect accord. If
Jay couldn’t bypass his security measures then she didn’t deserve
to use his laptop.

Michael sweetened the challenge. “If you can
do it in under ten minutes I’ll buy you that puppy Tyler mentioned
you wanted.”

“I’ll buy a doggie bed the instant I get
back to my place,” she said, appreciating his confidence in his own
skills but letting him know she was far more confident in her own.
“I meant to ask before, did Marissa receive the new AMEX card that
was issued when the last one expired?”

“Yes. The courier came a few weeks ago.”

Jay arched her brows.

“She didn’t cut it up, if that’s what you’re
asking.”

“Very good, Michael. That’s exactly what I
was asking because—”

“She’ll never use it again,” he said.
Marissa had only used the AMEX account Jay had set up in Marissa’s
maiden name when she and her family had fled Snapperton for their
own safety. The sole charges to the card had been clothing and
necessities, tanks of gas, meals and hotel accommodation—a drop in
the bucket compared to the vast wealth Jay had squirreled away.

“Even so, it is there for emergencies—such
as helping with the cost of getting ready for an unexpected
addition to one’s family. Or if Caro were to need assistance with
her studies, for example.”

Michael nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can
do.”

“Please do. Or I might take it upon myself
to set up a trust fund for your new offspring—after I inform your
daughter I’m paying her tuition fees, of course. I wouldn’t want to
be the cause of any sibling jealousy.”

Michael’s eyes twinkled with amusement.
“You’re a hard girl to say no to, you know that?”

“Your son doesn’t appear to have any
problems saying no to me.” Oh. Had that sounded a bit sour?

Michael’s chuckle told her it probably
had.

“We’d better take these through to the
lounge before Tyler sends out a search party,” he said.

Jay nodded and followed him out of the
kitchen.

Conversation cut off and uneasy silence
greeted their entrance. Jay waited for Michael to lower the
sandwich-laden plates onto the coffee table before placing the tray
next to them.

“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,”
Tyler said.

“I didn’t,” Michael said. “It was Jay.”

Despite being able to hear them perfectly
well, Jay pulled out her ear-buds. “Pardon?”

Michael saw right through her ruse but he
played along, confining his reaction to sharing a significant
glance with Tyler. The more “human” Jay could appear in front of
Marissa, the easier it would be for everyone.

Tyler caught on and repeated what he’d said
for her benefit. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“It was no trouble.” Jay selected the
appropriate mug and handed it to Marissa, who took it but didn’t
make a move to sample the contents.

“Fresh ginger and lemon juice sweetened with
honey,” Jay informed her.

“Oh.” Marissa sniffed the contents of her
mug, and the aroma must have been appealing for she took a
tentative sip. And another. Her sigh as she exhaled told Jay the
concoction was hitting the right spot and settling her stomach.

“Thank you.” Marissa sounded grudging, like
she’d been prepared to find fault only to have the rug pulled from
beneath her feet.

“You’re welcome,” Jay said, taking care to
keep her tone carefully neutral rather than give in to the
illogical desire to say the words too sweetly, thus highlighting
Marissa’s bad manners.

Tyler caught her eye and mouthed,
Baby
steps
.

Jay nodded, understanding he meant Marissa’s
hostile attitude toward her had thawed a little, rather than the
more literal interpretation of an infant walking. Or an adult
taking very small steps. Or even a number of very small steps
leading somewhere.

She snatched the colas from the tray and
tossed one to him. “I’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“Going jogging?”

Michael took his mug of black coffee from
the tray. “She’s taking a look at my laptop. It’s taking far too
long to boot up.”

Caro reached for a plate and loaded it with
two sandwiches. She brandished it at Jay. “Take these with you. By
the time you get back these gannets will have eaten
everything.”

“Thanks.” Jay accepted the plate even though
she wasn’t hungry and didn’t
need
to eat in order to
maintain her body’s optimum physical condition for another
thirty-two hours.

“Laptop’s in the study,” Michael said. “AKA
Tyler’s old bedroom.”

“Thanks.” She tapped her wrist where a watch
would be if she wore one and waited for him to acknowledge the
start of their wager. He nodded. Intercepting Tyler’s quizzical
glance, Jay smiled to reassure him that all was well, and then
turned on her heel and left them to their discussions.

The instant she entered Tyler’s old room the
memories slammed her. She sat on the edge of the bed and trailed
her fingers across the comforter. It had been here, sitting on this
very bed, that she had become so overwhelmed by her body’s
responses to Tyler’s nearness that she’d fantasized about kissing
him properly, thoroughly, as she’d seen intimate human couples do.
The reality of sharing her first “real” kiss with Tyler had been
far sweeter, far more devastating than any fantasies. It still
was.

Michael’s laptop sat on Tyler’s old desk
alongside a stack of papers in an open briefcase—student
assignments from the look of the notations that had been scrawled
in red pen. The wobbly chair—the one that had nearly toppled Matt
on his butt when he’d sat in it to plot Shawn’s downfall with
Tyler—had been replaced with a new, ergonomic office-style chair.
The bookshelf was now stuffed with textbooks, rather than music and
art books and sci-fi paperbacks.