Untitled (37 page)

      My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath. He wasn't picking up, so did it really matter what I said?

      "And I miss you." My stomach turned over when I heard myself utter those words. Sick with the feeling of exposure, my eyes watered, my heart rate sped up.

      Damage done, Piper.

      And I didn't care. I'd said it, and I didn't care. It wasn't so bad, being honest, after all. I could have cried, sniffed back the emotion and spoke again. "I just miss you, is all."

      Realization of what I'd done gripped me and I hung up. It wasn't fear; more an alien sense of liberation. I'd done it.

      Maybe not to his face, but circumstances hadn't allowed it. Would I have had the bottle to say those three little words if he'd been standing in front of me? I didn't know. But said them I had, in my own way.

      If he calls back before I get to the taxi rank, I'll go to his place. Or meet him wherever he is.

      Normally one to walk confidently, chin up, arms swinging when on my own late at night, to give a don't mess with me impression to anyone else abroad at that late hour, I walked on this occasion very, very slowly. Giving Leo every chance I could to catch me before I reached the corner of the street where the cabs lined up.

      Gripping my phone, I was almost scared to reach that corner, because once there, if a cab awaited, I'd have nothing else to do but get in and go home. I checked it a few times, knowing there wouldn't be anything to see because I'd have heard it ring and each time I did so my heart sank a little further.

      Fuck, maybe I called the wrong person by accident.

      No, stupid idea. You heard his voicemail message. How many Irish people do you know?

      All the same, I checked my recent calls log.

      Yep, definitely Leo Carson.

      Maybe he didn't—

      Shaking my head, I told myself, no, Piper. You left the message, and yes, he got the message. Or it'll be there waiting for him when he checks. You've done all you could.

      And that feeling of finality, so soon after the euphoria of my realization he was the one I wanted, brought tears to my eyes again.

      He was the one.

      As soon as I opened the passenger door of the first cab in the taxi rank and got in, the driver threw the typical line at me. "Where to, love?"

      I took a deep breath, gave him my address and went home.

      Every activity became monotonous by virtue of the fact it was something I wasn't doing with, for, because of him. Every other man lost his individuality, labeled in comparison to he whom he was not. A name in negative. Not Leo, not Leo, not Leo. Customers in the diner, whose entrance made me crane to see the door whenever the bell tinkled. Men I passed on the street. Guys who called me. Even Matthias, who phoned to ask how I was. Names on my mobile phone screen, screen names on emails, signatures on credit card slips at work, none of them Leo.

      I escaped to the locker room round about the time I knew Matthias would be on his lunch break and checked my phone.

      Nothing.

      My heart couldn't sink any further than it already had, so it made no difference to my mood.

      My blood pressure, on the other hand, was up and down like a yo-yo. Every time the door of the diner opened, all of my senses went on high alert, and given the amount of customers we had each day, that was a frequent event. Then when I saw who this new customer was not, the adrenaline disappeared, leaving me light-headed.

      I could curse you, Leo Carson. Your coming here even once means I'll forever be looking out for you doing so again.

      "Hey, Piper. How's it going?" Matthias greeted me.

      "You don't mind me calling?"

      "Nah, course not. I don't have long, though. We're short staffed, so they've asked me to go back early. How's work?"

      "Hellish. I can't stay on long either, this isn't an official break, I've sneaked off."

      "Better watch. You'll get in trouble."

      "I don't really care."

      He tutted down the line. "Piper. That's not the way to think."

      "I know, I know, but... I wonder if I should take a holiday from work? What do you think?"

      "Might do you some good."

      "Yeah, it'd stop me looking at the door every five seconds waiting for Leo to come in."

      "Still no word?"

      "No. Doesn't look like there will be, either. I don't know why... oh buggeration. Look, Math, I must be getting right on your tits with this. I'm even annoying myself—"

      "No, no, Piper. You're not. Honestly. Stop trying to rush yourself into feeling better."

      "I like to be doing something, that's all."

      "Have you thought about contacting him again?"

      "I already left a voicemail. It's been a few days now. He obviously doesn't want..."

      "Maybe he doesn't know what to say in reply."

      "Bollocks. I basically laid it on the line. What more can I say?"

      "Maybe he's thinking it over. He might be having trouble deciding what to say."

      "Even if he wants me to fuck off, he should at least call back and tell me so."

      "Yeah, 'cause you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Matthias chuckled.

      "At least then I'd know. Mind you, it's looking like no answer is my answer, as the self-help books say. I just would've preferred it..." I sighed.

      "If he'd come into your work and told you to your face that he wanted you to fuck off? No one goes out of their way to say something like that in person, do they?" He chuckled.

      "No. I guess. I—wait, what did you say?"

      "Uh, something about him coming into your work to tell you not to contact him? That no one would contact another person to tell them in person they didn't want...?"

      "Math, you're a genius!"

"I am? I mean, yeah, I am."

"I could kiss you; I really could!"

"Ugh. Please. But, uh... what did I say?"

"It's a long shot."

"If it makes you feel better it's worth it."

      "I remember once asking Leo why he came into my work instead of phoning, and he said he just wanted to see me."

      "Right...?"

      "Well... it's worth a go, isn't it? Or... I don't know, what do you think? Bit creepy? Yeah, probably is. Fuck."

      "No, wait, wait. You mean you're going to go see him?"

      "I thought I could..."

      "Well he came into your work. It's only fitting if you go to his. Where does he work, anyway?"

      "Self-employed. He has offices. I don't know where they are, but I could probably find them in the phone book. They'll probably be registered under his surname. But listen... if you were a man-"

      "Thanks."

      "Oh, sorry. You know what I mean. Do you think it would be too much if a girl left you a voicemail then realized you didn't like phone calls and decided to visit your home?"

      "Ordinarily, yeah, but... this time? Might be worth a shot. I mean, it seems to me like you hurt him pretty badly, so he could be sulking."

      "Leo Carson? Sulking?"

      "You know him better than I do, sis."

      "Yeah, but you know how men think better than I do."

      "Most of the time we don't. Okay, gotta go. Go get 'em, kid. I prefer you much better when you're on a mission. No sister of mine is going to be a drip for long!"

      "Yeah, big kiss you patronizing bastard."

      "Mwah." He hung up, and I was surprised—pleasantly so—to realize I had a smile on my face as I tucked my phone away in my locker and returned to work.

      "Just here will do," I said, and the taxi driver pulled over. I handed him a note, told him to keep the change and got out. As he sped off, I checked my appearance in my compact mirror, remembering when I'd done that just before meeting Leo for our first date. First and last. The date that had turned into a thirty-six-hour sex bender.

      I'd been nervous then but it was nothing compared to how I felt now.

      Hair straightened? Check. Make up done? Check. Not that either of those two items would matter to Leo—if he was at home. The stilettos? I knew he'd approve.

      If he was home.

      That, and willing to speak to me.

      "Come on Piper, you can do this," I murmured and snapped the compact shut. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walked purposely but not fast, wanting to get there and yet not wanting to get there. My nerves increased with each step which shot my theory of 'get the driver to drop you off a street or two away and you'll have some walking time to calm down' to pieces.

      I stopped in my tracks when I turned the corner into his apartment complex. No cars about but of course the parking garages were all undercover, indoors. Just as well it was a respectable area; it was after eight in the evening and this was unfamiliar territory.

      In more ways than one.

      My hand trembled as I raised it to the intercom panel on his block. Only one buzzer for the top floor entirely taken up by his loft, of course, so no room for mistakes.

      "Fuck." Pulling my hand away, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Come on Piper, you can do this." If he's out, I'm not coming back. I can't put myself through this—

      I lifted my hand to the button panel again. "Okay. Press it. It's a fucking button. What are you so scared—?" My hand took on a life of its own and pressed, while I yet spoke and I nearly threw up.

      The buzzing continued for agonizing seconds. He's not coming. Well at least I tri—

      "Hello?"

      Fuck. "Leo? It's Piper."

      I'd never felt a second that lasted as long as that one.

      And I'd never felt relief as cold and all-consuming as that which I experienced when the door to his apartment block clicked open.

      Okay, well, that was a good sign. I darted indoors and headed for the lift bay. He didn't say anything, but at least saying nothing meant no orders to never darken his doorstep again. And he let me in.

      I considered working off some of this nervous energy by taking the stairs, but doubted my legs would hold me up.

      So the lift it was, and it would get me to Leo all the sooner.

      I winked at the CCTV camera as I entered, before turning to press the 'loft' button, and wondered where the images were stored. Probably in a janitor's room somewhere in the building as there were no visible concierges.

      Don't look nervous even if you are, a voice said in the back of my mind. You'll look like a fucking idiot if you have a spine like jelly. Posture. Deep breath. And—

      Too soon for me to prepare myself fully, the lift doors opened. I didn't even have to knock on Leo's door. It, too, opened all too soon.

      "Hey."

      Jesus fucking Christ. My eyes widened, trying to take all of him in at once, but... I couldn't. My heart leapt and I had to clear my throat to give myself a few seconds' thinking time.

      His just-washed hair stuck up in damp, messy spikes and he wore nothing but a pair of jeans. No shirt, no shoes. One hand held the door handle, the other leaned against the

doorframe at his head height.

I'd never seen a man look so...

      "Can I come in?" My voice sounded an octave higher than normal.

      "Sure." He stood back to let me in; my spine rippled as I walked past him. When the door clicked shut behind us I felt... safe.

      I'm here now. That's a start.

      "Feck off!" greeted me a second later.

      "What the—?"

      "Oh hell, I left his cover off earlier, hold on..." Leo crossed the room and pulled the cover over Hyde's cage, lingering for a moment before turning round to face me. But staying on the other side of the room.

      "That's some welcome," I commented.

      "Yeah. He likes to..." He rubbed his hands together, as if cold. Cold or nervous. "So...?"

      I studied him for a long moment, trying to decide how to tackle this. Then jumped straight in. "I left you a voicemail."

      "Yeah. I know."

      "I assumed your lack of reply meant..." I bit my lip. "Well, I thought I'd come 'round to see if..."

      He looked at the floor, holding his palms together as if at prayer, raising his fingertips to his lips. "Whatever you thought my lack of reply meant, you're probably wrong. I don't like phones. Not for conversations like we need to have."

      "Which is what I thought. And that's why I'm here."

      "And now you're here."

      "Yes. Can I—"

      "Were you drunk when you left that message?"

      "What?"

      "That's part of the reason why I didn't get back to you. Besides not liking phones. You left the message on a Saturday night. I assumed you'd been out with friends."