One More Day (15 page)

Then again, Connor had a great laugh, too. So apparently, it didn’t mean all that much.

I felt a bit of my good mood fading. “Um. So I kind of want to surprise her with this, but there are a few things I can see right off that need to be fixed and I don’t want her to have to deal with them.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.” He had a clipboard in his hand, and he clicked a pen. “I noticed two broken panes of glass in the front windows,” he said, writing that down. I nodded.

“That. The front door sticks a little,” I added, and he wrote that down, too. “Really, there’s something that needs to be worked on in just about every room. And that’s not even getting into the furnace or plumbing or anything like that, because I don’t even know what to look for.”

“I’ll take a look at it while I’m here,” he said, making a note of it.

“And charge me whether there’s anything wrong or not?” I asked, semi-teasing.

He looked at me, a serious expression on his face. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Why not? I just admitted that I wouldn’t know either way.”

“Because that’s dishonest, and most of my referrals are word of mouth. I do a good job, so I get a lot of referrals. If I cheated people, that wouldn’t happen.” He met my eyes. “And, you were just honest with me about not knowing. I’d be an absolute jerk to take advantage of that.”

“Okay,” I said. He was still studying me. “What?”

“You look kind of familiar,” he said, and I tried not to react. My mask had fallen off during my fight with Maddoc, and it had been broadcast live on TV. For the most part, my face had been swollen and bloody, so I doubted many people would recognize me. My mother had, though.

I shrugged. “I’m just another blond chick. There are thousands of us, right?” I forced myself to smile.

“Maybe. Do you live around here?”

I shook my head.

“Hm. Well, let’s see what else you want to add to the list, and then I’ll get you a quote.”

I took him through the house, room by room, pointing out all of the things I wanted fixed, from a broken light switch in the hallway to better fixtures in the bathroom. The wood floors throughout the house needed to be refinished, and the plaster was cracking in a few places on the ceiling and walls. There were a few more modern light fixtures that people had put in that didn’t go with the house, and I pointed those out. When that was done, I led the way down to the basement and he took a look at the furnace and other mechanicals.

“This furnace is pretty new, actually,” he said. “Water heater, too. The ductwork could use some insulating, though. These old houses are notorious for losing heat in the winter.”

“Should we insulate anywhere else?” I asked, thinking of Mama’s utility bills.

“I’ll check out the attic. Probably wouldn’t hurt to add some up there. And I’ll check the windows and seal any that need it.”

I nodded. “So… how much do you think this is going to cost? Ball park, I mean.”

He looked over the list, and I studied him while pretending not to. He wasn’t super tall, maybe six inches taller than me, I guess. Nicely built, but not as muscular as the guys I worked with. After a little while, he gave me a quote.

“It could change, but you asked for a ball park number. We’d go through an itemized thing if you decide to go forward, of course, and I’d spec out each item so you could sign off on only the ones you want done.”

I nodded. I really wasn’t worried about the money. I still had more than enough set aside, even after buying the place. Actually, I’d been expecting the number to be higher. “And how long do you think this will take?”

“Well.” He looked around. “Less than a month, probably. Two to three weeks, if I hit it full time. Which, based on how much we’re looking at, I wouldn’t schedule any other jobs until I’m finished with this one, so I can give it my full attention.”

“Do you do all the work, or do you have a crew that comes in to help you?”

“My brother works with me sometimes, when it’s something I need more than just myself for. He’ll probably be here to help out with the upstairs bath and maybe when I’m refinishing the floors, because that’s just a lot faster with two guys. Is that okay?”

I nodded. “That sounds great. I think I’d like to go ahead.”

He smiled. “Perfect. Let me write this up more officially, and we’ll get a work order going.” He went over to the kitchen counter, pulled a form out of his clipboard, and started writing. I wandered through the house a bit, rather than stand there staring at him like an idiot. My phone rang, and my stomach lurched. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the number. Connor.

I looked at it for a moment, then answered.

“Hey. I’m back in town and I hadn’t heard from you. How’s everything?” he asked, and all I could think of was the photo of him, as Raider, standing over the dead body of a super hero. Less-than-pleasant comments about what he expected from me.

I gestured to Justin that I was going to step outside, and he nodded. I walked toward the front door then stepped out onto the porch before speaking.

“You lied to me,” I said quietly.

“Oh, come on. I came clean. That was the whole point of that. To tell you so that we could move forward— ”

“Not about that. You said you never…” I couldn’t say the words out loud. “That British hero,” I said, hoping he’d get what I was saying.

“I didn’t say I never did that. I asked if it mattered. And you didn’t answer.” He paused as I fumed. “So you were researching me, Jolene?”

“What? Did you just expect me to let it go? To lap up more of your lies like a moron? I’ve done that too much already,” I hissed.

“You’re over-reacting.”

My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t even say anything for a few moments. “I don’t think you can over-react about something like that,” I finally said. “And besides that, there’s the whole ‘you blatantly lied to me’ thing. Which really pisses me off, by the way.”

“I did what I had to do then. Just like I’m doing now,” he said in a flat tone.

“What else have you lied about?” I asked. “Is anything you’ve ever said to me the truth?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Of course.”

“Which part?”

“I want you. I respect you and your powers. I am doing what I think is right— ”

“Have you killed anyone lately?” I asked, so quietly I wondered if he even heard me.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said after a while, and my stomach sank.

“So you have.”

“Don’t fuckin’ judge me, Jolene,” he said harshly. “You’re no innocent, either. Thief, liar, cheat. I came clean with you because I figured you’d understand. Didn’t realize you were such a hypocrite.”

“I’ve never killed anyone,” I said, wishing he was in front of me so I could punch him. “That’s a whole other level— ”

“Oh, please,” he snarled. “You spend too much time with assholes in spandex. Costumed heroes are a joke, and every single one of you thinks you’re better than everyone else.”

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone.”

“Bullshit. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be getting a fuckin’ lecture right now, when I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight.”

“So…what? I’m supposed to feel guilty or something now? For confronting you about your bullshit?”

“I should have just screwed you that night and let it be. You would have happily done it, too,” he said, and his voice was cold. It wasn’t a tone I’d ever heard from him. I felt the last bit of hope that I was wrong about what a jerk he actually was vanish. It was like a balloon popping, deflating instantly.

“All that shit. All that ‘you’re so strong, Jolene,’ ‘smart girl,’” I said, mimicking him, repeating something he called me every once in a while. “The socks. All of it was bullshit.”

“I meant some of it,” he said coolly. “It didn’t take much, did it? So close to getting what I wanted, and all I had to do was toss a few nice words and an ugly pair of socks I bought on clearance at Kmart in your direction. You are pathetic.”

“Don’t call me again,” I said.

“I don’t plan on it, sweetheart,” he said, the word a snide twist on the way he had once said it. I hit the “end call” button and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I took a few deep breaths.

Well. I guess I dodged a bullet with that one. At least I found out what he was before it went any further. It hurt, actually. More than I’d expected it to. I didn’t want to admit, even now, that I’d fallen for him.

And all of it was a lie. Every single bit of it.

I took another breath, then turned to go back into the house. Justin was still leaning on the kitchen counter, writing.

“Almost done. It was a long list,” he said when he heard me walk in.

“Sure.”

He glanced at me, pausing in his writing. “We can finish this up another time if you want. Or I can write this up and email it to you or something.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. Just work bullshit… stuff,” I said, irritated with myself. It’s like I don’t even know how to act around normal people sometimes.

He nodded, then went back to writing.

“I can get started tomorrow if you want.”

“That would be great. I’ll give you the extra key for the front door.” I tried to keep myself calm, together.

It hurt. I’ve never even been close to being in love with someone before. I had no idea that this was what it felt like when something you had such high hopes for ends. I thought it would be easier, especially since I already knew he was lying to me. None of it had prepared me for hearing him talk to me the way he had, for the way the warmth I’d once heard in his tone had turned to icy derision.

Justin finished writing, and he handed me the forms. I mentally shook away the Connor issue to focus on what I was supposed to be doing. I looked over the list and the corresponding estimates, along with an initial quote for the work.

I gestured for the pen and signed and dated the bottom of the forms and handed them back to him. He gave me a copy of each one, then held his hand out and we shook on it.

“This place is going to look great. It’s already a good house. A little bit of work, and you’ll be proud to have your mom living here,” he said. I let go of his hand.

“Thanks. I’m excited to see it. And thanks for agreeing to start on it so quickly.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled the extra key off of the ring, handed it to Justin.

“My pleasure. I’ll be here throughout the day, and if I need to finish stuff up, I’ll probably be here some evenings, too.”

“I don’t want to take away from any other responsibilities you have,” I said, feeling guilty that he expected to have to spend all of his time here.

He smiled. “My cat will get by, somehow,” he said, and I gave him a small smile back.

“Okay. If you need to get in touch with me, you can always contact me at the number I gave you before.”

“It should go pretty smoothly. I’ll definitely call you before I do any painting, because I’d rather you pick the finishes in the house. Unless you want everything just to be painted white?”

I shook my head. “Mama can’t stand white walls,” I said.

“Okay. I’ll call you then before the painting starts. And of course, any time you feel like checking in, do so.”

“I don’t want to get in your way,” I said.

“You won’t,” he said, meeting my eyes briefly before looking away.

I gestured toward the door. “I have to get back to work, actually,” I said.

“Sure.” We walked out, and I noticed a large dark gray pickup truck parked near the curb. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Faraday,” he said.

I smiled a little. “Jolene,” I said. He nodded. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” he said. Then he gave me another small smile before walking toward his truck and climbing in. I watched him drive away, then started walking down the street. I locked up, then walked to the bus stop a few blocks away for the trip back to Command. It gave me plenty of time to think, but I wasn’t so sure that was necessarily a good thing.

At least something good had happened today, I thought as I stared out the window. Mama’s house was going to look great in just a few weeks. And I wouldn’t waste any more thoughts or feelings on Connor, because he sure the hell wasn’t wasting any on me.

I made it through the next few days alternately pissed off and depressed about how stupid I’d been over Connor, getting the silent treatment from my patrol partner, fielding dumbass questions from reporters and the “new media” assholes who were even worse, and just generally wanting to fall off the face of the planet for a while. On top of that were the dozen roses that Connor had sent to Command for me, in addition to the three voice mails he’s left, telling me how sorry he was.

I was fed up with pretty much everything.

I finished up a patrol with Portia, since Dani had backed out on yet another shift and they needed someone to fill in, then made my way to the team lounge to see who was around. Mainly, I was hoping Jenson was around, because she’d been trying to get me to talk and I hadn’t been in the mood and I kind of felt like a jerk for brushing her off all the time.

I walked into the team lounge to find Ryan, David, Amy, and Jenson in various states of slouch on the long couches there. Ryan was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and specifically not looking at me. Amy sat at the end of the couch, a book open in her hand, but she wasn’t reading it. Jenson sat cross-legged on the other couch next to David, who had a tablet in his hand.

“Can’t we turn this crap off?” Ryan was asking as I came in. “Why do you even follow that dipshit?”

“Because sometimes he’s entertaining, and other times, he’s kind of brilliant,” David said.

“What dipshit?” I asked, sitting on David’s other side so I could look at the tablet. On screen, there was a guy with a white mask over his face, sitting in an empty looking room. I listened for a moment. His voice was kind of distorted, the way they do on the news when they’re trying to keep someone’s identity a secret.

“This,” David said, nodding toward the tablet. “Blogger, podcaster, livestreamer. The Detroit UnPowered guy?” he said, and I nodded, recognizing the name from hearing Portia complaining about him. “He records a new stream every couple days or so.”