Tap Dance (15 page)

"…and the horse you rode in on, Mrs. Future Gorgeousness!" Crys said straight back.

I couldn't get a breath I was laughing so hard.

Dee came by and asked for Cait's order.  Crys passed.  I asked for coffee.

"I'm taking off ladies.  Got shit I've gotta do," Crys said as she plucked a couple of bills from her wallet and tossed them on the table.  She leaned over and gave Cait a one-armed hug.  I stood as she made her way around the table to me.

"Fun, Marianne, you know?" she said with her cute, lop-sided smile while she reached for me.

"You bet, baby girl," I whispered holding her close.

"Why the fuck does
everyone
call me that?"  She mock-yelled as she disengaged from me and turned around.  I watched as she bumped fists with Dee as she left.

I sat back down and caught Cait's soft smile. 

"One in a million, yeah?" she said softly.

"Oh, dear God, Cait.  You sounded just like Jake when you said that!"

"You're too pretty to be a bitch, Marianne!" she quipped with a laugh, which set me off again.

"Are you still seeing Paul Adler?" 

Dee was just delivering our coffees, although Cait got the Mexican coffee with the shot of tequila on the side.  At Cait's words, Dee bobbled her tray and the cups rattled against the saucers.

"Seeing? Yes. Dating . . . um, no."

"And that means…"  Her voice lilted up at the end, in question.

"I've been seeing someone else." 

Boy, had I ever.

I watched her roll her hand towards her chest, silently asking for more info.

"Ram."

Her eyes got huge.

"Ram Patel.  You know, the Police Chief?" I clarified.

She just looked at me.

"Okay, Cait.  Stop looking at me like I'm a new species, for God's sake."

"I knew it.  Jake and I saw you and Ram when I was in the hospital, when you brought me that big bouquet.  And
both
of us saw that there was this 'thing' when you looked at each other."

Now it was my turn to just look at her.

"It's kind of a
big
'thing' for me now," I said softly, even using my fingers for the air quotes.

"Glad for you, Marianne," she said softly.

"I'm glad for me, too.  But we really need to get you back to speaking like yourself instead of like your fiancé." I replied softly.

"To quote Crys. And the horse you rode in on, Marianne."

"Have you set a date yet?"

"For the wedding?  No, not yet.  I'm working with an attorney regarding the estate my parents left and would like to get through that and school before we actually make it legal."

"Your estate?" I asked.

"Yeah.  I told Jake about what I had gotten after my parents died.  He'd been through something similar when his dad and his brother passed and said my experience was different than his. And not in a good way kind of different.  He put me in contact with his attorney friend, Sam McKenzie, because something was really wrong if that's all I received.  Sam said he's heard about a lot of people getting ripped off when Jamison was the executor of the estate."

Holy shit.

I was connecting the dots with regard to my Auntie's finances.

Aw geez.

"What's wrong?" Cait asked when she caught the look on my face.

"My aunt's got some, uhm, financial issues.  They seem to have started when my Uncle Roger died." I was almost whispering as I put a possible puzzle together. 

If I was even anywhere near the truth, it was ugly.

"Do you think…" She didn’t finish her sentence.

She didn't need to.

I got Sam McKenzie's number from Cait and I made a mental note to call Greg at my first available opportunity.

*.*.*.*.*

"Hello.  Am I speaking with Marianne?"

I didn't recognize the male voice that had called me on my cell when I was about to leave Enrique's parking lot.

"And you are?"

"Niko.  Niko Milosevic.  I believe we met at Buxby's the other night."

Ohmigod.

Handsome. 

Actually, young and handsome if we were skirting towards the truth.

"This is Marianne," I acknowledged slowly.

"Hello, Marianne.  How are you?" His voice, with only the slightest hint of an accent, was just as stunning as the rest of him.

"Uhm, fine, thank you."

"I was wondering if you were available for dinner tomorrow night?"

Now, you and I both know that when a younger, handsome man asks a gal out, that said gal is flattered and
might
even entertain the notion for a second or two.  Maybe even has a flash thought of a sweaty entwining with the previously mentioned younger, handsome man.

But, in real life?

"I appreciate the thought, Niko.  But, like I explained at Buxby's, I'm seeing someone."

I heard him laugh softly.

Shit. 

His laugh was as gorgeous as the rest of him.  Not to mention, he had the cute dimple in one cheek.  Why would I remember that?

"Another time, then.  I'll keep trying.  I'm nothing if not persistent."

Aw geez.

"Uhm, Niko?  How'd you get my number?"

"From your cousin, Greg, of course."

Shit.

I should've known.

"Thanks for calling, Niko."  I was trying to think of a way of asking him to lose my number.

"Have an enjoyable evening, Marianne."

"Ah, yes. You, too."

As soon as he disconnected, I called Greg.

"We need to talk, Greggy!" I said, almost yelling into his voicemail. "Give me a call immediately!"

Okay.  So I didn't end the sentence at 'immediately'.

I might've maybe, kind of, added the words 'you stupid jerk'.

And there might have maybe, kind of, been a couple of 'F' bombs in the sentences.

Yeah, so?

*.*.*.*.*

It was just after nine when I made it back to Auntie's house.  Luckily, she was still up although she was thoroughly engrossed in the news.

"Aunt Estella?  We need to talk," I said gently as her show concluded.

"Yes, love?"

"I'm a little worried about your finances."  I sat on the end of the couch, close to her chair.

"Oh, Mari.  I'm fine.  Everything's fine," she said, but she wouldn't look at me as she spoke.

"No, Auntie, you're not."

She whipped her head around to look at me and I saw her face begin to redden.

"I'm fine, Mari, and we have no need to have a discussion about money.  It's such a vulgar topic anyway!"

Wait…what?

"It may be vulgar, but it’s something we need to talk about."

"I can't think about it right now.  I'm tired and going to bed," she said, gently shooing Floyd off her lap before standing.  She wouldn't look my way and quickly made her way upstairs.

I sighed.

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I knew I couldn't go to Sam McKenzie without involving my aunt and my cousin, but how do you force someone to take a step they don't want to take?

I locked up the house and checked to make sure Floyd had been fed and had a fresh, clean litter box.  I stood at the bottom of the stairs wondering exactly what it was going to take to get to the bottom of it all.

Chapter Seventeen

Ram was making his way from the interrogation room where Ted Pierson was interviewing one of the merchants that had claimed credit card fraud.  There were too many holes in the man's story to make it believable and Ted was going to have to advise him of legal ramifications in making false statements before he cut him loose.

"Is he getting anywhere, Chief?" Paul asked from his desk in the middle of the bull pen.

"Unfortunately, no," Ram answered never breaking stride.  He was steps away from his office when he heard Marianne's name mentioned.

"Paul, you still seeing Marianne?"

"As far as I know, Cliff," Paul said with a smile.  "Although her aunt says she's seeing a couple of guys.  I just hope I'm still one of them."

Laughter at Paul's admission made its way around the room.

Ram took that on board and didn't show that he heard or cared about the subject.  But he made a mental note to himself to have a talk with a certain blonde siren regarding the status of their relationship. 

He had been willing to step aside after watching her and Paul's flirting at the hospital, but things had changed considerably since that time and Ram wanted to make sure she knew that
he
was the only man she was dating.

Although, dating wasn't the right word when he thought about it. 

They had never gone out to dinner, seen a movie at the theatre or done any of what one normally does on a date. 

He was aware that his unpredictable schedule was partly to blame for not having the time to go out, but it wasn't the full reason.

He turned this over in his mind. 

Mainly, now that he thought about it, they had sex. 

And they talked, then had more sex. 

He wasn't complaining about it, but she was more than just a 'friend with benefits'.

He wondered how she would classify their relationship. 

Did he mean more to her than just what they did in bed together?

Did what she have with him have meaning for her?

Listen to me, he thought.  The standard joke was that the woman wanted to define a relationship, not the man. 

Well, joke or no, he wanted to make sure they were both on the same page and were working towards a common goal.

'And just what the bloody hell is that goal, Patel, huh?' he whispered to himself before sinking himself into his large, office chair.

He was out of sorts when he finished up for the evening and made his rounds through the downtown. 

He saw Marianne's car at Enrique's but didn't see her in the restaurant. 

His out of sorts frame of mind stepped up a notch and he realized that he was getting angry;  angry thinking that Marianne would think they were simply fuck-buddies, anger at himself for not showing her that he enjoyed her company both in and out of bed. 

Anger at the thought that she was still seeing Paul.

'Fuck this,' he mumbled and turned south to Jake's gym, where he hoped he could work some of this tension off. 

He couldn't remember the last time he had taken the time to work out.  Which just pissed him off even more.

His lack of time is something that he seemed to be using as an excuse not to do things that he knew had to be done or taken care of. 

But, when the old Chief had been ousted due to corruption, Ram felt he needed to front and center, overseeing the open cases, completing the documentation that needed to be done and getting it done on time.  Ram also tried to ensure that the townspeople of Grantham knew that he was a 'hands on' Chief and he made every effort to remain visible.

How long was he expected to have his work consume his life?  Outside of having Tim Bell cover for him when he and Marianne went to her apartment, he had been on the job 24/7.  He needed a break.  He needed a standard schedule with, at least, one day off each week.

No one said he had to work so much.  It wasn't in his employment contract but it was something he had started doing the moment he stepped through the door.

No one to blame but himself.

Well, he decided, after punishing his body with three rounds of circuit training, that shit stops now!

*.*.*.*.*

I was laying on the double bed in my aunt's guest room staring at the ceiling, unable to shut my mind off enough to sleep. 

First there was my apartment.  I still shuddered when I thought of the destruction of my property.  I knew I should be able to put this behind me, start thinking about the furniture I would be able to afford with the insurance check. 

Did I want to use blue again?

When had I had that notion, that blue was my signature color?  High school?  College?  After seeing how beautiful and gracious a home could be, like Ram's, I was considering changing my color scheme. 

Maybe having a signature color was a little juvenile?

Paul had left me a voicemail when I had been at dinner with Crys asking me out for Saturday night.  I hadn't replied because I wanted to keep my Saturday night open in case Ram wanted to be with me.

Why couldn't I fall in love with an accountant or a mechanic or someone who only worked eight hours?

Wait…what?