My phone rang while it was still in my hand. I didn’t usually answer numbers I didn’t recognize, but the green button was a reflex, and I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello.” The voice was female and tight as a drum. Pleasant, but not effusive. Welcoming, but not warm. “This is Jessica Carnes. Am I speaking with Monica?”
“Yes.” I sat on the piano bench, willing myself not to shake. All of Jonathan’s warnings and the events of my two prior meetings with Jessica blew out my nerves. I had to remind myself to channel him, his utter dedication to self-management no matter his feelings.
“How are you?” she asked.
I had no answer prepared. No story to tell to get what I wanted. “I’m fine. You?”
“Very well, thank you,” she said. I didn’t think I had another nicety left in me, and she saved me from having to come up with another. “You left me a message?”
Oh, she was going to make me ask. She wasn’t giving me an inch or admitting she had made first contact at Frontage. She wasn’t going to admit she’d shown up at my job at whatever o’clock in the morning. “I thought I’d take you up on that offer to meet.”
“Things have gotten a little more complicated since we spoke last.”
“Yes...I...I guess you’re right. I thought you came to see me last night. Never mind.”
After saying that, I felt a sense of relief. I was avoiding immediate repercussions from seeing Jessica, and it wasn’t even my fault. Coward. Yes, that was the craven woman. I wasn’t her any more. But I couldn’t push Jessica. If she wanted to wiggle out she would, no matter what.
“If you feel differently at some point, I would like to meet. We can do it under your terms and talk about whatever you like,” I said.
“Why the change of heart?”
“Things got more complicated, like you said. I feel like I can’t see the whole picture.” That was probably too specific and would leave me little room to flip my story around if I needed, but that was it. I said it, and it was very close to the truth.
“Can you get to Venice in the morning?”
“Yes.” A lump rose in my throat. I was doing it. I was going directly against Jonathan’s wishes. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I was trying to help him.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I had nothing else to say, so I hung up.
I’d started an evil thing and had to go through with it because I wouldn’t stand by and watch him get run over. Maybe I was going out on a limb, and maybe I’d make it worse, but how could I sit still while someone was trying to hurt him?
“Fuck,” I whispered. My car was at the Stock.
Chapter 17.
MONICA
A black Corvette pulled up in front of the house, taking the downhill nice and slow. Robert cared about his ride the way most people cared about living things. I skipped down the porch and met him at the curb.
“Thanks,” I said, getting in. I was more or less on the way from the valley, but it was still an inconvenience for him.
“Fucking hill, man.” He put the car in gear and inched downward.
“When I was a kid, I rode my bike down it, no hands.”
“Bet you did.” He paused briefly. “So, car’s at work, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“You went home with the guy from Hotel K? Sam and Debbie’s friend?”
“You got a problem with it?”
“Naw, man. Just curious what his deal is.”
I didn’t know what he meant, and I didn’t want to know what he meant, either. I just wanted to get my car. I didn’t want to hear about anything Robert might have seen or heard. Nothing. Not a word.
We sat in silence down Temple, to Hill, around the block a few times or ten until we stopped at a light a block from the hotel. It was the same light Jonathan had stopped at when he met me after work and told me he’d always love his ex-wife.
“What did you think his deal was?” I asked.
Robert snapped out of some sort of reverie. “Huh? Who?”
“Jonathan, the guy from Hotel K?”
“Shit, I don’t know. He was there that time you couldn’t talk, then gone, then....coupla weeks, he was in the corner yacking with Debbie and Sam all the time. But not when you were there. Shows up last night, you’re there. I dunno. Just asking.”
“Asking what?”
“Is it serious or what?”
“Yes. It’s serious,” I said.
“All right. Thanks for letting a guy know.”
The light changed, and I laughed to myself.
“What?” He turned into the lot.
“I thought you were going to tell me that you saw him with other women.”
He looked at me and smiled, turning into the employee level. “Guys don’t rat on other guys.”
“Robert! Don’t even—”
“But there was nothing to rat. Seriously. Stop with the girl style. It don’t suit you.” He pulled in next to my little black Honda.
“Fine. I wouldn’t have believed you anyway.” I blooped my car and got out.
Robert cut the engine and pulled his small black duffel from the back. “You think I’d lie?” He slung the duffel over his muscular shoulder. “I’m not saying I woulda minded getting with you for a night, but I wouldn’t lie to do it.”
“I don’t think you’d lie,” I said, getting in my car. “I think you could misunderstand.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. If I saw him with someone, and it was something, I’d know.”
I looked him up and down. “You know what? I believe you.” I turned the ignition. Nothing happened. Just one click. “Uh oh. Do you have time to give me a jump?”
“Turn it again.”
I did. One click, then nothing.
“It’s your starter.” He walked to the front of the car and knocked on the hood. “Pop it.”
I did. He lifted the hood and chocked it up with the metal brace.
“Should I turn it again?”
“Yeah.”
I did. Same. I got out and stood next to Robert as he shone his phone’s light at the engine, analyzing the mass of wires, compartments, and hoses. I knew what most of it was but not how to fix it.
“All right. If you got a bad starter, I can bang it while you kick it over. Sometimes that kinda gets it going. But you need a new one, probably.”