The next morning I arrived at the office early, determined to put last night’s covert activities behind me, and praying my expression didn’t betray my guilt. I busied myself by refilling the Hershey’s Hugs jar I kept on my desk for the patients. Over the last few months, they’d become accustomed to giving me their copayments and snagging a Hug or two from the jar before taking a seat in the waiting room.
At the rates the doctors charged for a session, I figured it was the least I could do to contribute to the overall mental health effort.
Besides, from time to time I’d been known to need a Hug myself. After last night’s foray into breaking and entering, I had helped myself to the last of the Hugs in the jar before breaking out a fresh bag for the patients. I suspected I’d need at least another dozen to ease the guilt.
It had been a busy morning.
I’d fallen behind in my work thanks to Marcy’s correspondence. Her personal correspondence. She was on the committee for some college reunion thing, and somehow the lion’s share of her volunteerism had been dumped on me at the last minute. But I kept that six-month probationary period uppermost in my mind as I photocopied letters to the alumni and then folded and stuffed them into envelopes. Besides, I reminded myself, we were pals.
Busy with my stuffing, I wasn’t aware of someone standing in the doorway. When I looked up, I dropped the stack of envelopes. “Jack, what are you doing here?”
I have to admit my ex appeared equally stunned by my presence, but he recovered sooner than I did. “Is that all you have to say to me, Bec? Why haven’t you answered any of my phone calls?”
“Because we’re divorced, remember? Now, what are you doing here?” I repeated, answering his question with a question, since he’d answered mine with one.
Jack sidled over to the nearest end table and thumbed through a magazine. I detested his attorney nonchalant act. It hadn’t worked when we’d been married, and it sure didn’t work now.
When he didn’t respond I stated, “I’m busy. Get to the point.” I was proud of myself for being businesslike and in control of the situation.
Jack strolled over to where I stood. “Can’t we be friends?” He had that little boy smile plastered on his face, the one that females always thought was so adorable, that is unless you were the ex-wife and knew it was fake.
Knew the smile could turn to petulance in a Richmond minute if he didn’t get his way. Or if I questioned him about where our money had gone. Or who had left threatening messages on our answering machine when we were married.
“Friends, Jack? No, I don’t think so.”
What was he up to? He always had an agenda. Always. Besides, how did he find me? I’d never mentioned to him that I worked for Daley & Palmer. But then Jack had his ways of getting information.
“Just because we’re no longer lovers, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Good friends.” He advanced further into my personal space. I backed up and caught my shoe on the chair roller. There was only one thing worse than being clumsy and taking a fall, and that was doing it in front of an ex-anything.
But to my surprise, Jack reached out and steadied me while I got my foot untangled.
Marcy Palmer chose that moment to emerge from her private office. “Miss Reynolds!”
It was the first time she’d ever addressed me by my last name. She didn’t sound happy. In fact, she spoke to me in the same tone of voice as Dr. Dick. I jumped away from Jack as if someone had lit a firecracker under my butt. My very cute butt, according to Ryder. And at the thought of my interaction with the very sexy CPA last night, I blushed.
Marcy’s gaze shifted from me to Jack, resting there for a long moment. Maybe it was my imagination but it almost seemed like some silent message passed between them. “This is a place of business,” she finally said. “Not a pickup palace. Meet your boyfriends on your own time.”
With that, she brushed past us, ushering her ten o’clock patient to the corridor. I intended to explain that Jack was my ex and about the shoe thing, but instead of returning to her office, she continued down the hallway.
Damn. She was pissed. More so than usual, only this time it was directed at me. That had never happened before. Considering Marcy was the only person standing between me and unemployment, I had to get Jack out of here. And fast.
“Look, Jack. You need to leave. And I do mean now. You are not costing me this job. It’s over between us. It’s been over between us. I have nothing that you want. You’ve managed to take it all.” I pushed him toward the doorway. “Now leave.
And don’t come back. I mean it. You come back here, and I’ll take out a restraining order.” Seeing the amusement in his eyes, spurred me on. “You think I’m kidding? Well, I’m not. How would you like to turn on Channel 8 news and see that one of the city’s golden boys has been harassing his ex-wife? I’m sure one of the anchors would be happy to give me air time for such a juicy story.”
“You wouldn’t do that. It’s not the truth. Besides you’re a terrible liar.” He smiled at me and something just went boing in my brain.
I was sick and tired of Jack Davis.
He was not going to screw up this job for me. I was more than capable of doing that myself.
I lowered my voice. “Get out now and don’t come back, or I go to the media.”
“You’ve changed, Bec. And not for the better, I’m sorry to say.” He shook his head and regarded me with those sad puppy dog eyes that I’d once found so appealing and now found just pathetic. And annoying.
“Out!” I pointed to the door with way too much drama. But drama worked with Jack. For him, it was all about image.
I saw him shrug and turn around, and knew I had won. At least this round. For now, that’s all I cared about. I wanted him gone before Marcy came back.
After he left the office, I sank into my chair shaking all over. I had to regain control of myself. I crossed my arms on my desk and used them to pillow my head while I struggled to regroup. Jack was out of my life. I was no longer his wife. He had no power over me. None.
I wasn’t the naïve girl who had married him. No, I now saw Jack for what he was. Someone who would strike a person in a fit of anger. It had only happened the one time. One slap and I’d left. I wasn’t going to be anybody’s punching bag.
I recalled the night, the argument, the hurt that went deeper than the physical pain, and felt like weeping.
Leaving Jack had been the best thing I’d ever done. It had been the start of living my life, my way. The years of not fitting in with Jack’s grand plan, of being put down in subtle ways, of his gambling addiction and the financial consequences, all came rushing back at me. I was no longer Becca Davis. With the divorce I had reclaimed my maiden name and started my life over. And I meant to succeed.
“Miss Reynolds! This isn’t your day, is it? It’s not enough that you’re allowing personal relationships to interfere with you job, but now I catch you napping.”
My head snapped up and I could feel the color drain from my face. Marcy had returned. I could not win with this woman. No matter how hard I tried. Alumni envelopes scattered to the floor as I rose.
“I’m trying my best for you, Dr. Palmer,” I said, reverting to a more formal manner of address. And for Dr. Daley. I do everything around here. I do whatever you people ask of me. Stuff that could never be in a job description – even under “and other duties as assigned.” I pointed to the mess I’d made of her latest reunion mailing.
“That man was my ex-husband. My ex. Not someone I wanted to see. I don’t even know how he found me. It’s not like I’ve ever given him the address or phone number. And for your information, I was not napping. I was trying to get it together before you or a patient walked through that door. After everything that’s happened the past week, I’m stressed out, my last nerve plucked and shredded. I don’t know how much more I can take.” I realized I had passed the point of normal and was somewhere over the rainbow. My shaking had become more pronounced. In an effort to still the tremors that ripped through me, I wrapped my arms around myself.
Marcy advanced toward me, and I braced for the next onslaught from the woman who’d gone from my bud to the wicked witch of the west end of Richmond.
“Come into my office,” she ordered, but either my hearing was going or her voice was softer than usual.
Obediently, I followed her on legs that must have resembled a newborn colt’s first steps.
“Sit down.”
I sank into the comfy white and blue floral chair in her seating area. To my surprise, she took the one next to me and reached out for my hand.
My cold, clammy hand. Oh, no. This was it. She was going to fire me. Five months of struggling to make a difference here, to establish myself in a career and just like that it was all over. And once again, I had Jack to thank for ruining my life. No, that sounded too much like a victim. And I wasn’t going to be anyone’s victim. I steeled myself for Marcy’s next words, the words that would have me packing up the few personal belongings I’d allowed myself to bring in to the office.
“There, there, Becca,” she crooned in soothing tones. “I had no idea you’d been married before. I’m divorced, too.” She smiled sympathetically at me, and I dared to hope. “I know what it’s like to deal with an ex-husband. Mine used to pop in at the hospital where I worked unannounced. After one of his visits, I’d be a mess for hours. And I’m a therapist, a trained professional.” She sighed and seemed to drift far away. Then she patted my hand again.
“Now, we have to get you pulled back together so you can be your usually bright, perky self,” she announced like she’d just written me a prescription for life. Unaware of my confusion, she pulled a tissue out of the box she kept on a nearby table and handed it to me. “Your mascara is smeared. You’ll want to make a few repairs.”
I dabbed at my eyes. The good news was that she wasn’t firing me.
She was actually treating me like a human being. Once again, she confirmed why her patients adored her. Gone was the stick up the butt psychiatrist she’d turned into when she’d caught me with Jack and in her place was a warm, caring person, who’d been my unwavering “bud” in the face of Dr. Dick’s unwavering dislike.
While I continued to wipe at my face, she went to her desk and pulled something out of the drawer. Oh dear God, please don’t let her know about last night. When she returned, it wasn’t with the keys and a rant on the sanctity of her confidential files. Instead, she held out a mirror to me.
Grateful, I took it and saw that not only was my mascara everywhere, but that I had remnants of Hershey Hugs in the corners of my mouth. Yowser. How embarrassing! Maybe I should keep a mirror in my own desk drawer instead of my food supply.
Wiping the wayward mascara and chocolate off of my face, I handed the mirror back to Dr. P.
“Much better. Now, you get out there and do what you do best, make our clients feel welcome. You do know that Dick and I think you’re doing a great job? A few teensy weensy adjustments here and there, but I’m sure it will come with time and training. Now, before you start the billing, I have another college mailing that has to go out before two o’clock today. Are you going to be able to do that?” She reached over to her credenza and handed me a manila folder.
I grimaced at the contents.
Lots of photocopying, collating, folding and stuffing. If I didn’t eat lunch, I might just make it. “Sure. No problem.”
I mean she was being so nice and all.
And I did want to keep this job.
I summoned up a weak smile.
“Great. I knew I could count on you. Oh, and the committee is so thrilled with the great job I’ve done so far, they’re giving me a few more things to handle. I’ll bring in the list tomorrow so you can start on it.”
She patted me on the back and led me out of her office, much as I’d witnessed her escorting her patients through the waiting room. “My next appointment canceled. There’s a fabulous sale at Short Pump Town Center Mall.” She snagged her designer bag and pulled the door to her private office shut. “And I’m meeting a friend for lunch at Maggiano’s. I’ll see you before my two o’clock.” She hurried past me.
So, I still had a job.
But I had all of Dr. Palmer’s college crap to do while she went shopping at upscale stores that I could no longer afford and ate lunch at one of Richmond’s nicest restaurants while I sat here hungry and overworked.
But I wouldn’t focus on the negative. The positives were she wasn’t angry with me over Jack’s visit once she’d heard my explanation. And she’d complimented me on my job performance. Maybe I would make it to the six-month mark, after all. There was so much I wanted to do with the place and for the patients once I was a permanent employee.
I licked the last envelope and put it in the stack for the outgoing mail. After tasting the glue from 500 envelopes, I decided that I was buying self-sealing ones on my next trip to the supply store no matter what they cost. I’d scrimp somewhere else.
Feeling slightly nauseous and not even hungry any more, I raided the mini-fridge for a soda.
Anything to get that taste out of my mouth. As I popped the top, I had another flashback to last night in Ryder’s office. Just thinking about the man caused heat to creep up my neck and warm my face. I held the can against my cheek.
“Hot?”
I all but jumped out of my skin. I needed to get some kind of buzzer for that front door. “Mr. Rossi.” I glanced at my watch. “You’re early.”
“Yeah. I needed to get away from work. Stress and all. Dr. Palmer here?”
“No, she stepped out.” I quickly made my way back to my desk.
Tony Rossi tore a check out of his checkbook and handed it to me. “That should cover today’s visit. I don’t want it filed with insurance. Okay?”
“Sure, no problem.” I made a note in the margin of today’s schedule by his name and processed his check. I smiled when I saw him reach in the jar for a Hug. I swelled with pride at my little contribution to wellness.
Chocolate heals. If it worked for PMS, it had to help with stress relief.
Tony paced about the office fingering magazines and looking at the furniture. That wasn’t like him. He usually grabbed a Sports Illustrated and talked to me about how his favorite teams were doing.
Hmmm…
He pointed to the wingback chair. “Is that where it happened?”
I gulped. “Excuse me?” I was so not ready for this type of conversation. And neither were most of the patients who had kept their appointments since we’d reopened.
“The murder? Is that where it happened?” he asked again.
Although he wasn’t the first person to bring up Robert O’Malley’s untimely death, his angry tone surprised me. “Why don’t you let me get you some water or a soda?” I held up my drink in some lame demonstration as if he needed a picture to go along with the words. In fact, I found his movements and body language a major distraction. What the heck was going on?
“So where did it happen?” He glanced around the office again before his gaze settled back on the Queen Anne chair.
“I really don’t think this is helpful, Mr. Rossi.”
“Call me Tony. You know, I hated that son of a bitch from the very first time I laid eyes on him. As a matter of fact, it was right here. My opinion went downhill from there.”
My eyes popped wide open.
I must be less observant than I thought.
First, I’d totally missed the connection between Anna Blake and Robert O’Malley and now I’d missed the Rossi/O’Malley link.
I searched my memory. To my knowledge, Tony Rossi and Robert O’Malley had never met. Tony came in on Wednesday at two o’clock and Robert O’Malley on Tuesdays and Thursdays at eight o’clock. Tony must have sensed my problem with figuring out the connection because before I could ask, he clarified it for me.
“Anna Blake was my girlfriend. Before O’Malley.” The malice in his voice made me wince. But I needed to find out more.
“So you and Anna….”
“Yeah, me and Anna.” He finally sat. In the Queen Anne chair. “I still love her. Always will. O’Malley wasn’t good enough for her. Sure, he had the money, the fancy car and all of that materialistic crap, but I loved her. And now that he’s out of the picture, I plan on getting her back.”
I had to keep him talking.
“How are you going to do that?”
“Easy. She’s ripe for rebound. Been crying her eyes out over that jerk since somebody made the world a better place by offing him. I’ll just bide my time and be her friend. When she discovers that O’Malley was a first-rate creep, and I’m the one that she can lean on, she’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
“So, you’ve seen her since the death?” Only I sort of said it The Death.
“Naw. I’ve called her a couple of times. Too soon to go see her. It’s not in the plan.” He tapped the side of his head with his index finger. I guess he meant the plan was stored up there. Let’s hope it didn’t have too many parts to it.
I reached into the Hugs jar and pulled out a few of the foiled wrapped candies. I took one and handed the other two to Tony. While we busied ourselves with the candy, I came up with my next question.
“So you knew Robert from here?”
Not brilliant, but all I had at the moment.
“Yeah, we were all in group together. First it was Anna and me and some others. Then O’Malley started coming. And coming on to Anna. I warned her he was married, but she’s no good with men. She always picks losers. Know what I mean?” He quirked his brow at me.
Boy, did I know what he meant.
I was staring right at one.
“She dumped me the week after they met. I even went to see his wife to see if she could do something about the situation.”
That was a newsflash. So Edna had firsthand knowledge that Robert was cheating on her. “And how did Mrs. O’Malley react?”
“React? That dame has ice water running through her veins. No heart, if you know what I mean. She said that O’Malley had had his little indiscretions before. Yeah, that’s what she called them, little indiscretions. Said men will be men. When I told her that this time it was different, that I knew Anna and her effect on us guys, the O’Malley broad just gave me a tight-lipped smile. And shut the door in my face.”
Interesting. “What did you do then?”
“What do you think? I went to see O’Malley at his work and told him to stay away from Anna. That partner of his heard us arguing and told me if I didn’t leave he was going to call the cops.”
“Partner?” Why didn’t I know about the partner? Sheesh!
“Some guy named Ancarrow. O’Malley always bragged about the business and what a genius his partner was with the details, but he considered himself the real backbone of the business because of his money savvy. More like his gambling savvy.” Tony snickered. “The guy had balls, I’ll give him that. In group, he admitted he owed the mob at least 200 large.”
I blinked several times in rapid succession. The mob? In conservative Richmond? Unbelievable.
Loan sharks, sure. I knew all about them thanks to my ex-SOB-husband.
But $200,000 in debt? What if Jack had been into the mob for that much?
I sat, fighting not to hyperventilate at the idea. I pushed the thought aside. No time to dwell on that. I had to pursue the conversation before Marcy got back and spirited Tony into her inner sanctum for his session.
“Mob? I hate to sound naïve but aren’t you being a bit….”
Tony shook his head.
“Hey, I’ve played the ponies and done some cards in my time, but nothing that would put me on the mob’s radar. I’m not stupid.”
I was thinking that still might be up for debate, but I pushed forward. “The mob? Here in town?”
Tony smiled at me, obviously happy that he knew something that I didn’t. “Yessiree. Right here in River City.” He used our town’s nickname, the one it earned by being divided in half by the James River.
“The Russians,” he added in a whisper and looked around almost as if he expected one of them to miraculously appear just by speaking the word.
“The Russians!” I yelped.
“Shh! Keep your voice down.” He leaned forward in the chair, and I had to lean across my desk to hear.
“You never know where or when they’ll turn up.”
Russians?
Preposterous. Tony Rossi was obviously delusional. He just hid his symptoms better than others. There was no Russian mob in Richmond. I’d know if there were. I mean, it would be on television and in the papers. Wouldn’t it? I was just about to pursue this line of questions when Marcy waltzed into the waiting room.
“Sorry I’m a tad late, Tony. I hope our Becca kept you entertained.”
More like he’d been keeping me entertained, or informed.
“Come in, Tony, and let’s see what’s going on with you today.” And with that he disappeared behind closed doors with Marcy. Let’s hope she could help him sort out reality.
Russian mob, my aunt Martha. I mean, I actually knew a Russian. Max Chernov. Polite. Handsome. Courtly. Sexy. Damn sexy.
He was no more a mob guy than I was.
Poor Tony. Dumped and delusional.