Tick Tock - James Patterson [32]
I poured my nanny a glass of Malbec.
“Worse,” I said, handing it to her.
“Are they all asleep?”
“At least pretending to be,” I said. “All except the big one.”
“Brian?”
“No, Father Pain-in-the-Ass. He went out for a few jars, quote unquote, to soothe his troubled mind. Even the saints are hitting the suds tonight,” I said, clinking plastic cups.
“Are you any closer to catching the bomber guy?” she asked, kicking off her flats. “Because the people in my class are completely bonkers. Half of them didn’t even show up for tonight’s test. They told the professor they’re too afraid to ride the trains.”
“Smart kids,” I said. “You might want to follow their example. If the color code thing were still in place, we’d be looking at orange, dark orange.”
“I’m a big girl, Mike. I know my way around the city now. I can take care of me own self.”
“I know that, but if something happens to you, who’s going to take care of me?” I said.
We swung back and forth for a while, talking and having more wine. She told me some funny stories about her summer vacations with her big family when she was a kid back in Tipperary. Even after the day I’d had, I was actually starting to relax.
I don’t remember who started kissing whom. For a while we held each other, just listening to the sound of the surf two blocks away. The waves were incredibly choppy and loud, making a relentless pounding noise. The first hurricane of the season was heading up the East Coast from Florida, I remembered I’d heard on the radio.
That’s when I remembered something else. The hurricane wasn’t the only thing coming up to New York.
Why had I told Emily Parker to come again? I thought as Mary Catherine undid the buttons on my shirt. Because she was a competent law enforcement expert? Even I knew that was bull. Emily was cute, and I liked her. But Mary Catherine was cute as well, and I liked her, too.
One thing led to another, and after a bit I found my hand under the back of Mary’s shirt. Mary suddenly pulled back and sat up.
“Talk about dark orange,” she said.
She was right. We both knew we were on the threshold of something either wonderful or terrible. Neither one of us knew what to do about it.
“What now?” Mary said.
“You tell me.”
“We’re so Irish, Michael.”
“Well, technically, I’m Irish-American,” I said, pulling her in again and kissing her sweet hot mouth.
“Eh-hem,” someone yelled.
I don’t know who jumped higher, me or Mary. There was a jangle of chains as we almost ripped the porch swing off its moorings.
Seamus came up the steps, a smile from ear to ear.
“And how was your class tonight, Mary Catherine? Your art class that is, if you don’t mind me askin’?”
“Oh, fine, Seamus. Look at the time. So much to do tomorrow. Good night,” Mary said, off like a shot into the house, absolutely abandoning me.
Seamus looked at my completely open shirt with disdain.
“Michael Sean Aloysius Bennett. What in the name of the good Lord do you think you’re doing? And don’t be telling me you’ve been catching some rays,” Seamus said.
“I’m… going to bed, Father,” I said, hitting the screen door at mach two. “It’s been a long day. G’night.”
Chapter 36
I WOKE UP EXTRA EARLY for work the next morning.
And not just to beat the traffic this time. A stealthy exit after last night’s questionable tonsil-hockey session with MC on the porch seemed just the thing.
In addition to probably breaking several employer sexual harassment laws, I didn’t know where to start in sorting through my conflicting feelings. I really had no idea at all what to say to Mary in the light of day. I definitely didn’t want to face another inquisition from Seamus.
Red wine always gets me into trouble. No, wait, that’s my big mouth.
As I tiptoed out of Dodge, holding my shoes, I noticed a strange bluish light coming from the girls’ room. I knew I should keep on going and leave the culprits to their own mischievous devices, but the cop in me couldn’t resist a righteous bust.
I retraced my toe tips back into their room.