Most Wanted (32 page)

“Why? Where is it?”

“On the West Side, but that’s not the point. I can’t show up to my counseling session with some other guy driving me.”

“With Slice still out there, no way I’m letting you go by yourself.”

“No, really.”

“Really. I insist. I’ll drop you around the corner if it makes you feel better.”

“Dan, please.”

“Come on, we’re wasting time standing here arguing about it.”

SHE WASN’T SURE WHY SHE ENDED UP IN HIS car—whether it was because he wouldn’t let her say no or because she didn’t want to.

“Where to?” he asked.

“West End and Eighty-fifth. She works out of her apartment, this woman.”

“Jesus, I can only imagine. Some ex-hippie in a caftan with long gray hair?”

She giggled. “Maybe, I don’t know. This is the first session.”

“I never believed in that counseling shit anyway. Either you make it on your own steam or you don’t.”

“Yeah? What do you know about marriage?”

“Oh, I know a thing or two, missy, and it ain’t pretty. But then, maybe I wasn’t married to the right person. Maybe you weren’t either. Aren’t, I mean.” In the light from an oncoming car, he wore an expression of grim determination.

“I had no idea you were married before,” she said.

“It’s not the first thing you mention when you meet someone.”

“So what happened?”

He stared at the road, not answering. The silence grew.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Now
I’m
prying.”

“No, no. I want to tell you. It’s hard for me, is all. Like I said, I never talked to anyone about it before.”

“You never talked to anyone about the breakup of your marriage? Not one single person?” she asked.

“No.”

“How long ago did you get divorced?”

“Lemme see. It’s four—no, almost five years now.”

“That’s a long time to keep it inside.”

He took his eyes off the road and looked at her. “I told you, I’m very private. I don’t just go around telling people stuff. But I want to tell you this, so you know me.”

“I understand,” she said, looking back at him, feeling something opening inside her heart. He seemed so alone. Like she felt sometimes.

“Simple story, really. I knew my wife—my ex-wife, that is—my whole life, from when we were kids. Everybody expected we would wind up together. She was the best-looking girl in the neighborhood, and I was…well”—he blushed in the darkness of the car—“I guess you could say I was a good ballplayer. So, long story short, we got married, young. Too young.”

“Yeah, so? A lot of people get married young and it works out okay.”

“Jeez, now I see why you get so much information out of witnesses. Gestapo tactics here.”

“Sorry. Take your time.”

“This is hard for me,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand, resting on the steering wheel. She’d only intended to pat it reassuringly, but he gripped her hand hard, as if he needed her help to go on.

“Well, it was like this. Diane was from a cop family, like me, so she knew the score. But she was a princess, too. Everybody was always sucking up to her, because she was beautiful. As beautiful as you, but she wasn’t smart like you, didn’t have your substance.”

“You sound angry. Did she leave you?” she asked, paying close attention but also secretly thrilled. He thought she was beautiful!

“Yeah. She got sick of being married to a cop, thought she could do better. Those early years with the Bureau, I’d go on duty, get thrown a case, and call home three days later from the other side of the world. Nothin’ I could do about it either, except quit, which I wasn’t about to, since I was born for the job. It might have worked out okay if she had more of her own shit going on. But she never wanted to work. And it didn’t happen for us with having kids. That was a big disappointment.” He fell silent again.

“So she left?”

“Yup.” He stared out the window at the traffic. “I came home one afternoon from a tour, forty-eight hours straight in the same clothes. Took a shower and crashed. It wasn’t until the next morning I realized her stuff was gone. She didn’t even leave a note. The divorce papers came in the mail.”

“Where is she now?”

“Remarried to a guy I used to play ball with. I think she was cheatin’ with him when we were still together, but I can’t be sure. He’s got a construction business out on the Island. She helps out in the office, drives a nice car. She found what she wanted, I guess.”

They reached their destination. He pulled up to the curb a car length away from the marriage counselor’s building.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he said, as she started to open her door. She turned back.

“What?”

“This, you and me. Is it just revenge, for what your husband did?”

His heart was so exposed as he spoke that she could practically see it right there in the car. She wanted to protect him, comfort him.

“I don’t think so,” she said. But there was a touch of uncertainty in her voice that he didn’t miss.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re too honest?” he asked, smiling sadly.

He reached out and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. Eyes full of longing, he traced the outline of her lips. She felt his hand tremble. She was mesmerized by his touch, unwilling to stop him. It seemed to take an eternity for him to lean toward her across the small distance between their seats, so that by the time their lips met, the kiss seemed inevitable, preordained. Yet it was the merest taste, sweet and gentle and over much too soon.

He sat up straight in the driver’s seat. “You’d better go in. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

Melanie opened the door and got out, feeling unsteady on her feet. She looked back at him for a long moment before slamming the door shut.

Dan honked the horn as he drove past, but she didn’t wave back. Her eyes were focused instead on the brightly lit path under the green awning that stretched from the door of the building to the curb. Steve was standing there, framed by the light, staring at her, shock and hurt in his eyes. He’d seen everything.

HER FIRST THOUGHT WAS, HAH! NOW YOU KNOW what it feels like! But she wasn’t vindictive enough to say that aloud. In Steve’s eyes she saw the same sick surprise she’d felt herself, in that awful moment when the bottom had dropped out. That moment when
she
caught
him
red-handed. Infidelity sucked, no matter which side you were on.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” she said. Part of her truly meant it, but another part of her was still in the car, tasting Dan O’Reilly’s kiss. And wanting more. Man, she was confused.

Without saying anything, Steve turned his back on her and marched into the lobby.

“Wait!” She rushed to catch up with him. He pretended not to see that she was coming, so she had to stick her hand in the elevator door to stop it from closing. Once they were alone in the elevator, he stared at her as if he barely recognized her. In spite of his anger, he looked amazing. Tall, lean, and tanned, wearing his suit with that careless grace that she loved. This guy could be a model, he showed off clothes so well. Sometimes she thought her whole relationship with her husband was based more on physical attraction than substance. No wonder it wasn’t holding up so well under pressure. Hmm, maybe she should marry Dan and have an affair with Steve?

Steve opened his mouth several times but couldn’t seem to bring himself to speak.

“I know how that must’ve looked,” she said. But then she stopped, at a loss for what to say next. Because it
was
what it looked like.

They stepped off the elevator into a long hallway wallpapered a dingy beige. The therapist’s apartment was directly across from the elevator. Steve pressed the buzzer.

He turned to her as they waited, still looking stunned. “I guess you’re trying to get back at me? That’s what I just saw, right? Melanie’s revenge?”

The door swung inward onto a narrow foyer warmed by a deep red Oriental rug and smelling of potpourri and scented candles. A petite woman with frizzy red hair and fashionably small eyeglasses greeted them. She was about their age.

“Hello, I’m Deborah Mintz. You must be Steve and Melanie.” Neither of them responded. She looked at them and smiled quizzically. “Why don’t you come in?” she said. She had a mellifluous voice, unusually deep for such a small woman. To her surprise, Melanie immediately liked her.

She showed them into an office off the foyer, furnished with a brown corduroy sofa and two beige leather chairs. Against the far wall stood a desk piled high with books and papers. Deborah shut the door firmly and went to sit in one of the chairs.

“Please, sit down,” she said.

Melanie sat on the sofa. Steve chose the empty leather chair, dropping his head into his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were red and teary. If Melanie had ever thought revenge would be sweet, she was sadly mistaken. Hurting him felt much worse than getting hurt herself.

“It was lucky you called when you did, Steve,” Deborah said. “I only have evening office hours once a week, and I just happened to have a cancellation. Now, would one of you like to begin and share with me what brings you here?”

“I cheated on Melanie, and I’m here to take responsibility for that,” Steve said firmly, looking at Melanie as he spoke. “Melanie’s been acting out, trying to show me how upset she is, and I want her to know that I hear her and that I’m going to do better. For us and for our daughter.”

“Okay, well, that sounds like a good place to start. Melanie, would you like to respond?” Deborah asked.

Now they were both looking at her. Steve’s words were what she’d been waiting to hear all along, right? So why didn’t she feel overjoyed and relieved, like she’d expected to? Why didn’t she jump up and throw her arms around him? Could it be that, in her heart, she was already out of this marriage?

“It’s not that simple,” was what popped out of her mouth.

“Why not? What do you mean?” Steve asked. He looked at Deborah for an explanation, but she just gestured for Melanie to continue.

“When Steve says I’ve been acting out, I get the feeling he thinks I didn’t mean any of it. That I just want attention or to get back at him.”

“You did mean it?” he asked, shocked.

“Mean what? Fill me in here,” said Deborah.

“She was downstairs kissing some other guy, for starters,” Steve said. “Did you mean
that
?”

“Just now?” Deborah asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I think I did mean it.” Melanie felt short of breath. Her heart was beating erratically. She’d never had this experience before, of being the one in the wrong. She didn’t like it. But she needed to get the truth out on the table here, and the truth was, she felt something for Dan, and she was no longer certain
what
she felt for Steve.

“Who is he?” Steve demanded.

“An FBI agent I work with. We’re doing a case together. We only just met a couple of days ago.”

“And you’re already kissing him? Fast work, Melanie! Are you fucking him, too?”

“
No
! Don’t use that word. You must be confusing me with that
puta
Samantha.”

“Whoa, time out,” Deborah said, making a T with her hands. “Let’s try to stay civil and productive. Melanie, please continue. I think Steve needs to hear what you have to say.”

“If Steve is serious about wanting to work things out, I guess I’m still willing to try. But we can’t sweep our problems under the rug. I want him to know that nothing I’ve done was for show. Not asking him to move out, not taking off my wedding ring or kissing somebody else. I did all those things because I’m not sure whether I want to continue with our marriage.”

There, she’d said it. All of it.

Dead silence.

“Which doesn’t mean I’m convinced our marriage is over,” she continued, her voice ringing out, loud and urgent, in the quiet room. “Maybe there’s—”

Steve stood up. “I need out.”

“What? Out of where?” asked Melanie, heart in her throat. Whatever she thought she was up to here, she never intended to end things this minute. She needed more time to decide.

“I can’t hash this out in front of a stranger right now. I’m too confused. I’m sorry, Deborah, I know this was my idea. It just—I’m not ready. I need some air.” He began to move toward the door.

“Wait!” Melanie said. “Maybe she can help us. We should give it a chance. We should—”

“I can’t right now, okay? You really took me by surprise, with this other guy. I need some time to think.” He strode out of the room.

“I have to go after him,” Melanie said to Deborah, leaping to her feet. “Can you mail us the bill?”

“Of course. And, Melanie, I’m here if you want to come back, either together or alone. Okay?”

“Thank you.”

She ran after Steve, catching up with him as he waited for the elevator, leaning against the wall with his face buried in his arms. She placed her hand lightly on his back, making contact for an instant with the well-defined muscles under his suit. The touch reminded her of that morning, doing it standing up in the hallway. What was wrong with her, thinking about that at a moment like this? There was more to marriage than just sex.

Steve angrily shrugged off her touch and barreled into the elevator when it arrived. She followed him. On the street he hailed a cab.

“Is it okay if I come with you?” she asked in a small voice. She hated this. It was actually much better to be the wronged party, the victim. Being the offender felt too terrible.

He opened his mouth to reply but merely clenched his teeth, whistling with a mixture of defeat and scorn, holding the taxi door open for her.

ELSIE OPENED THE DOOR FOR THEM, DISPLEASURE written all over her face.

“You people realize what time it is?” she said.

Steve took money from his wallet. “Thanks for staying, Elsie. We really appreciate it. Here’s your overtime and cab fare.”

“That don’t make it okay. Night after night being asked to stay late. You-all must think I have no home life.”