Page 58 of Liquids

“Rig. You’ve always been straight with me …”

“Answer the fucking question,” he growls, and I laugh and realize in his gruff way he’s trying to be good to me, and maybe get some answers.

“I guess.” How can I make him understand? “But it’s not just the women. It’s that a guy could dispose of someone like that from one week to the next, without thinking twice about it. How would I trust somebody like you? I’d forever be waiting to come home and find your bag half packed on the bed, like I did when you stayed with me …” I swallow and stare out the window.

“Babe, that’s my job. I go away for weeks or a month at a time. And I was already committed to you then. I said I was coming back.”

He was committed? My chest wobbles.

“And I did come back,” he adds. “Even though, when you picked me up, you were looking for a one-night stand yourself.”

“I don’t think Amanda or Sadie were after one night.”

“No, they wanted someone to leech off.”

“Leech off?”

“Yeah, you’ve met them.” He takes a slug of coffee.

“Sadie said you had a ton of money saved up. That you didn’t need to save to buy a beach house.”

He guffaws. “She always thought I magically had a ton of money. She has no idea what it takes to run a farm and get it operating properly. I look after my ma, babe. Most of the money I earn goes into the farm.” He eyes me over his mug, the frown returning to his face. “You looking for starlight and flowers?” he adds.

I laugh. “No, I’m not that unrealistic. But you said I was a down-and-out who drank too much, and though it was true, I think every woman wants a man to meet her and have an epiphany that she’s the one. And I know that’s not realistic: You get together with someone and the best you can hope for is that you muddle along okay with them.”

He squints at me. “That’s bullshit; you gotta know that. The first thing you feel? That’s all animal attraction. And, babe, you and me have got great animal attraction; you know we do. But you think something long-term is built on that shit? No way. I’ve been down that road too many times and got my fingers burned.” He shakes his head and shifts forward. “I want to be surprised. Meet someone I’m not expecting, both in bed and in the conversation afterward. That’s what happened to me with you. You surprised me in a good way, and that’s the highest compliment I can pay a woman.”

My lips part as I stare at him. What do I say to that?

He leans right over, and his eyes are inches from mine. “I didn’t want this to end, babe, and I understand why you did it, but it’s not over for me. I want more from you.”

He shovels the rest of his bacon sandwich into his mouth, swigs it down with coffee, and raps his knuckles on the table as he stands up. Then he ruffles my hair and heads out the door, whistling, before I can come up with a sensible reply.

20

WAVES

Marni’s waiting for me when I turn up at Callahan’s three days later, her blonde hair in a neat updo, a plunging red top revealing all her assets. She knows how to rock what she’s got. Rig’s words about wanting more have been rattling around in my head ever since he turned up and made me another bacon sandwich. She taps a long talon on the tabletop.

“Hon, I’ve got news.”

This is the only night I’ve got off this week, and I haven’t been sleeping much, so I’m not sure I’m up for Marni and her enthusiasms tonight. I grunt at myself: I’ve paid Luis one month’s rent now, but the thought of how far I still have to go with the debt and the card payments is making my body droop.

“He’s fighting up in Chicago! We have to go!”

“Who’s fighting up in Chicago?” Although I’ve got an idea from the way her eyes are shining at me.

“Rig!” She squeaks the word.

Oh my God. He’s been avoiding that forever. When did he agree to this? And why didn’t he tell me?

“Are you still providing services to Angelo? Is that where this came from?”

“Gah! Don’t give me that. Angelo and I have an understanding.” She slaps my arm. “You have to go!”

One of these days, a whole pile of shit is going to land on Marni, and I’m going to be the one who has to dig her out from under it. She’s probably going to be stabbed by an irate mafia wife.

“It’s a huge pot, or so I’m told,” she says. “Marco’s beside himself, strutting around like a peacock. Angelo’s very nervous. He told me he doesn’t trust the organizers in Chicago as far as he can throw them. He thinks there’s mafia involvement.” She waves her hand. “I mean we talk about Marco being mafia, but he’s not the real mafia.”