CHAPTER 17

Daniel had never seen anyone stand up to Steve the way Jane had that morning. Riley of course fought with him all the time, but she always stopped short of using her knowledge of Steve’s weaknesses against him. She, like their parents and like most people in Steve’s life, had bought into the idea that he needed to be the way he was and challenging it wasn’t a good idea. Humbling a god was, after all, an unpredictable enterprise. But Jane had dared to do it. For him.

He took her to Delco’s in Malibu even though he knew it would be crowded so late on a Saturday morning. The family often went there because it was close to Steve’s house and because it was one of those places celebrities went. For some reason, Daniel thought Jane would like to go to such a place, be one step closer to the stars. But when they arrived, and he saw the paparazzi prowling around the patio railing, he wondered what he’d been thinking to rationalize such a choice.

“It just occurred to me that maybe you’re not the kind of person who is impressed by something like this,” he said. “We could go somewhere else.”

“How’s the food?”

“It’s good. I mean, some people do come for the food.” He laughed. “I’d just imagined something quieter.”

“I think this will work.” She led the way to the host station and pointed to a table in the far corner that was just being vacated by a couple and their toddler. “We’d like that table, whenever it’s ready,” she told the host.

While they waited, Daniel leaned up against the wall so the paparazzi couldn’t see him through the big round windows that dominated Delco’s front entrance. A television hung from the corner of the waiting area. The news channels were still parsing through details from the South Carolina massacre. The shooters had been identified as members of a white supremacist group. No one who’d known them could explain why they’d done what they’d done, so the talking heads were calling on experts to fill in the narrative. The experts were mostly psychiatrists and other mental health professionals telling America that white people only committed senseless killings when they were mentally ill.

Daniel noticed Jane was also listening. He remembered that he still didn’t know which version of the story about his leg Steve had told her. The mugging narrative was what the family knew; even their mother had no knowledge of the Vanguard brand on his thigh. For the sake of Steve’s career, Daniel had not gone to the police. But it seemed possible maybe Steve had told Jane the truth, which was why she was so interested in the news. Daniel wondered if she followed the Vanguard closely enough to know that what had happened to him had been an aberration.

The host showed them to their table. It was far enough away they could no longer hear the TV. Instead, they heard the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the radio tuned to classic rock. They ordered coffee. Jane briefly looked over the menu then set it at the edge of the table.

“You know what you want?” he asked.

“I’m having what you’re having. You’re the expert.”

“I usually get the number five omelet.”

“Fine with me.”

He placed the order. The menus gone, their coffee steaming in two ceramic mugs before them, there was nothing left to do but talk. He realized he had no idea where to start. He hated the idea of her leaving. But it didn’t quite seem fair to argue about the situation with her husband since Daniel was just coming into it and didn’t want to assume he understood. He poured cream into his coffee. After a moment of consideration, Jane also took up the little silver pitcher and added cream to her mug. In the kitchen the radio played I Guess That’s Why They Call it the Blues.

“I can never decide if this song is a love story or a tragedy,” said Jane. “Is it the blues when you’re in love and you want to be with someone all the time? Or is it the blues because you know another person can never fully know you?”

“I’ve never thought of Elton as a love ballad kind of guy.”

“Me neither.” Jane’s smile was quiet, an expression for herself. She looked so sad.

“Jane, there’s got to be a way to fix this. Even if you don’t like me and you want to end this—whatever we’ve been doing—you can’t let this guy control your life.”

“You’re not the problem.”

“Then let me try and solve the problem. Steve’s got great lawyers. They can find a way to make you safe here.”

Jane sipped her coffee. “Coffee’s a lot better with cream. The texture changes.” She took another sip before she returned the mug to the table. “There is something you can do.”

“Anything.”

“I need to go to my condo and pick up my bag. And then I need a ride to the train station.” Her voice was firm, determined.

He let out a laugh. “I’m just supposed to send you off to Canada? Do you have any idea how maddening that is?”

“Why can’t you trust me when I say there’s nothing that can be done?”

“Because I solve problems. Everything Steve wants, no matter how impossible, I find a way. I’ve gotten him out of two lawsuits for property damage, one for sexual harassment. I get him into sold out concerts. I find him flights where there were no flights. I’ve opened restaurants that were closed. I have bribed police, reporters, and elected city officials. It’s very difficult for me to believe your husband is harder to manage than my brother.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Because of my condition?”

“Yes. Because of your condition.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She lifted her eyes from her coffee and looked at him with a fierce ugly glare. “I get paid to take care of people. I don’t want to bring that kind of work home with me. There, you happy?”

He still didn’t believe her, but the words stung. He felt them rush in and take up residence in his brain. “I don’t need someone to take care of me,” he said.

Jane shrugged.

“You can’t trust what Steve said while I was in the clinic. You know that, right? He was out to sabotage us from the start, so I wouldn’t win our bet.”

Jane arched a surprised eyebrow, but her glare didn’t waver.

“Steve and I had a bet. He probably didn’t tell you that. If I could get a girlfriend, tell her about my leg, and not break up with me, he’d give me a role in his movie.”

“I’m sorry you’ve lost your bet.”

“I haven’t yet. After this morning, everyone thinks we’re more together than we’ve ever been.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I just need two more days.”

“You’re not listening to me. I need to leave.”

“We could do it in less than two days. I promise you will be on a train tomorrow night.”

“You want me to pretend I’m in love with you so you can be in Steve’s movie?”

He recognized that she was still trying to hurt him. But he also knew, despite what she claimed, she wasn’t ambivalent. Instead of saying that he doubted there would be much pretending involved, he simply said, “I would make it worth your time.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“I would if you told me.”

Their food arrived. Jane stared down at her omelet. She picked up her fork. It hovered sideways in the air. She set it back on the table. A concession. “I’m on a train tomorrow night.”

“I will keep you safe.”

“We’ll see.”

“I promise.” He didn’t usually make such emphatic claims when he knew so little about a situation, but it seemed impossible that he couldn’t protect Jane from one man for the rest of the weekend. It wasn’t like anyone knew where to find her.

For a second, Daniel thought of the paparazzo who had most likely taken their picture when they’d walked into Delco’s. It wasn’t likely Daniel was important enough to warrant someone buying that photo. But even if someone did, and the husband saw that picture, there was no way for him to find out where Daniel lived. Every Fletcher address was unlisted. And even if all these impossibilities became possible, and Daniel somehow found himself face to face with this mysterious husband, Daniel felt he would be able to keep him away from Jane. Worst case, Daniel would hire a bodyguard.

Jane slowly picked her way through the omelet. She cut little squares off the edges and ate them one by one without seeming to taste them. She looked like she might cry. When she finished, she carefully set her fork across her plate and looked up at him. “So, what should we do to convince Steve you’ve won?”

“He’ll be asleep until at least four. We’ll probably hang out at Mom’s tonight, have dinner.”

“So we have time now to go get my bag.”

“I guess we do.”

In the parking lot of her condo tower, Jane sat in the Prius watching the mirrors for a full ten minutes before she decided it was safe to get out. Daniel couldn’t help but be impressed with the authority with which she moved once she’d decided no one was watching. She took the stairs up to the fifth floor two at a time; he had trouble keeping up. She pulled back the caution tape and entered her condo as though the “WARNING: Crime Scene do not enter” did not apply to her.

He stood in the entryway while she went to get her bag. The condo wasn’t what he’d expected. Or maybe he hadn’t considered what kind of home Jane would set up. The bare functionality only made him want to help her more. There had to be a way for her to feel safe enough to make a home for herself.

Jane emerged from the bedroom with a grey duffle bag smaller than his gym bag.

“That’s all you need?”

“I travel light.”

He nodded. “I noticed there’s no damage to the door. How do you think he got in?”

Jane walked into the living room and examined the balcony door. She came back to the entryway and examined the front door. “He picked the lock.” She checked the panel of her security system. “Good thing the alarm went off or he’d probably have been sitting here waiting for me when I came home.” A visible shudder ran through her.

“You could still go to the police. Maybe it won’t be how you think.”

She appeared to push off her fear with a shrug. “Let’s go to the beach. Maybe the surf comp’s still on. This is the end of my life in California. I’d like you to teach me about surfing.” Her eyes dared him to say no. Those eyes, so full of a loss he couldn’t understand, made him want to enclose her in his arms and hold her forever.