One Night Stand (7 page)

"Good."

"For you, maybe."

"For us," he replied. "We're going to have a wonderful evening. Good food and conversation. Then I'm going to take you home and make you forget every bad thing that's ever happened in your entire life."

"Every single one? That will be difficult."

"I like a challenge. And I'm willing to work for it."

I thought back to our first night together and realized he probably could do it.

"Well then. Let's get the dinner part over with, shall we?"

Sam smiled and winked then turned his attention to the menu.

As good as the food looked when it arrived, my stomach was still roiling from the day's events and I didn't eat much. Sam noticed, of course, but didn't say anything. He devoured his food and most of mine with relish. It made me laugh to watch him just sucking things down like he didn't give a shit what anyone thought.

And as I got further through the bottle of wine we ordered, I did relax a bit. We chatted amiably, covering important topics like the pathetic records of the local sports teams and the most bizarre members of our respective families.

Sam was smart, but down-to-earth. He alternated between teasing me like a sibling and flirting with me shamelessly. It kept me on my toes and I loved it. I kept drinking until the diners and servers around us were just a colorful blur outside the little world that was our table.

After sharing a giant slice of cake that exhausted even my desire for chocolate, I blearily offered to pay the check, and Sam declined. "Could you even figure out the math for the tip right now?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Why, do you think I'm drunk or something?"

He laughed. "You're hammered, Carly. It's adorable."

"Am not." I pouted for a second and then thought better of it. "Well, maybe I am. I didn't mean to get so bad. But I'm not used to drinking wine."

"Plus you barely touched your dinner."

"Yeah, but still." I poked my soft belly. "Not exactly a twig, here."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Quit it with that shit. You're a gorgeous woman with a sexy body. If I wanted a twig I wouldn't be sitting here thinking about all the perverted things I wanted to do to you tonight."

I giggled and looked away, blushing, as he paid the check. We were strolling out to his car when part of his comment struck me. "You said 'wanted to do'."

"Yes."

"Not 'want to', 'wanted to'. Past tense."

Sam opened the door for me and helped me inside his car. I frowned while I waited for him to walk around and get in.

"Why did you use the past tense?"

"Because you're drunk."

I laughed. "So what? I was gonna put out anyway."

He let out a huge guffaw. "Fair point. How about this, let's get you home and we can discuss it."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. I don't care. Just having dinner with you made my shitty day, shitty week, shitty life a million times better."

Sam patted my arms and let his hand rest over mine. "You sure you don't want to tell me what's got you so thrown?"

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I really like you a lot and would be sad if you didn't want to see me anymore."

He pulled into the late evening traffic and managed to keep a careful eye on the road while checking on me. "I doubt anything could do that, Carly."

"Yeah, but that's just because you don't know what the secret is."

"Oh, it's a secret, now? What if I guess?"

"You won't."

"Then what's the harm in letting me try?"

"Fine, give it your best shot." I knew he was joking, humoring me. He thought I was just being a silly drunk girl, but the thing that kept prodding the back of my thoughts wasn't silly at all. And having reached the maudlin stage of drunkenness, I was wallowing a bit.

"Okay. Are you a secret foreigner looking for a green card husband? But now that you like me you feel bad about seducing me for nefarious reasons?"

I giggled. "That's a really good guess. But no."

"Hmm. Are you married? Got a kid?"

"No and no. It's nothing like that."

"Good. Are you actually forty years old and just look amazing for your age?"

"Ew, no."

"It's okay if you are. Older women are sexy."

"Shut up. Guess again." In spite of myself his silly ideas were cheering me up.

"I've got it. You're a spy and having a relationship with a regular American is part of your cover?"

"No. Do they even have spies anymore?"

"Wait, okay. I've got it. You're on the run from the law, and were planning to leave town tomorrow, but now you can't because you'd miss me too much." He laughed, but I didn't.

"Nope." But the guess was a little too close to right.

Sam, sensing the change in my mood, altered his light tone. "All right, no more game. We'll be at your place soon and I want you to tell me the truth."

And in that moment I wanted to. I was tired of carrying the secret, and I wanted someone to help me figure out what to do. Sam was supposed to be a diversion from all of this, but maybe he could be a confidant too.

He found a parking space in front of my building and I decided to take that as a good omen. We went upstairs, and in contrast to the last time we'd entered my apartment, Sam told me to sit down and went into the kitchen to pour me a glass of water. Way less sexy, but just as appreciated.

"Okay," he said, once settled on the couch next to me. "Tell me."

"You know when I ran into you yesterday?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was on the way to the police station."

"You were?" He grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. "Why? Did someone do something to you?"

"No. It was…something I did. By accident. Sort of."

There was an unfamiliar tension in his eyes. "Carly, just tell me what happened."

"I found out that my boss is involved in something illegal. And I kind of got myself involved in it too, but I didn't mean to."

"What are you talking about?"

"I found a big bag of pills in a package I delivered."

"
You delivered
? I thought you said you just answered the phones."

"I do," I said defensively for no good reason. "Normally. It doesn't matter why, I just made one delivery and it had drugs."

"And you're sure they were illegal?"

"Well, they weren't vitamins. And doctors don't send pills in unmarked boxes, right?"

"No," he said, looking away from me. "No they don't."

"So…that's it. I wanted to report it but was afraid I'd get in trouble or something."

"Why would you think you'd get in trouble."

"Because." My voice broke. "I saw them when I opened the package. But I still delivered them."

Sam dropped my arm and stood. He backed away a few steps and rubbed his hands over his face. "Oh shit."

"I know. That's why I'm so freaked out. I don't know what to do and I know I shouldn't have told you and dragged you into this but I didn't know what else to do and I'm so confused." My breath was coming in shallow pants and tears leaked from the corners of my eyes.

"This is really fucked," Sam said.

I sniffled and glanced up at him. I'd been expecting surprise and comfort. Instead he looked sick. "Sam, I'm not a drug dealer or anything. Stop looking at me like that."

"Stop. Don't say anything else."

"What?" I stood too, reaching out a hand to him. "I know this is nuts but-"

"I'm serious. You can't say another word to me about this."

"I-I…"

"For fuck's sake, do you have any idea what you just did?" His voice boomed, echoing in my small space.

"Yes. But why are you shouting at me? Why are you acting like I did something to you?"

"Because you did." He paused and lowered his voice. "You've put me in an impossible situation."

"I-I don't understand."

"I'm a cop, Carly. On the narcotics squad."

"You…you're a police officer?" I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold it together, struggling to process that piece of information. "But…you never said. You didn't tell me."

"That's really not the issue right now."

"Right. Okay." I crossed to the window, staring out into the city. Little things about Sam started to make sense to me. His watchfulness, how perceptive he was. And seeing him at the police station closest to my work.

"Wait," I said, gears turning in my mind. "Was it really a coincidence running into you yesterday? Have you been investigating my boss?"

"Are you insane? You think I'm dating you to get information?"

"No." My head was pounding. "I don't know. Are you?"

"Shit. Of course not." The anger drained from his face. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. But you really caught me off guard."

"Well you did the same to me! I can't believe this."

"Look, calm down. Let's sit down and talk this through."

"No," I said, shaking. "You need to leave. This is too much. Way too much for me right now."

"Carly, don't be like that. We need to talk." He reached out to touch my arm but I shrank away.

"I said no. Please, get out of here."

"Just-"

"Now."

Sam looked at me with a combination of anger and sadness, shrugged, and left.

I climbed into bed fully clothed and cried for a long time. For me, for Sam, for the night of passion we should have been sharing, for everything.

How I managed to get through the night and the next morning was a miracle. I walked into the office like a zombie, barely aware of anything except the emotions coursing through me. I went through the motions all morning, but everything seemed suspicious.

Any one of my coworkers could be criminals. Any of them could be watching to see if I'd caught on. And all of the customers I worked so hard to please might be in on it too. Or someone could be an undercover cop. What if we were under surveillance? There was a car with tinted windows I saw down the block almost every day. Who knew what that was about. I couldn't trust anyone or anything to be what I thought I knew. My boring but taxing job had turned into a nightmare and the only person I could talk to about it was the last person I could talk to about it.

Mitchell was out for one of his very long lunches, so I took my break in the quiet privacy of his office. I couldn't have eaten anything, so I spent the time surfing the internet, trying to forget. I checked the local paper's website and read a few articles that I forgot as soon as I finished them, just needing something to occupy my mind. But as I clicked on a breaking news story all the color drained from my face and bad turned to worse.

The headline read "Body Found in Burned-Out Car, Foul Play Suspected."

There was a brief story about the people who discovered the body, something about the family planning a service, the police asking for any information from the public. But underneath, there was a small grainy photo of the victim. It was Darius. Sweet, dumb Darius who hadn't shown up for work in days. And now I knew why.

I fumbled for my phone and it took a few tries to press on the contact I wanted. It rang on the other end for a while before anyone picked up.

"Hello?" There was a ton of noise in the background, but his voice sounded out clear through the line.

"Sam? He's dead. Oh god, he's dead."

"Carly? Is that you? What did you say?"

"Help me," I choked out.

"Are you at work? I'll be right there."

"No," I said too loudly. "You can't come here."

"Shit. Okay. There's a coffee shop on Walnut Street. At third. Do you know the place?"

"Yes."

"Good. I can be there in five minutes."

"Okay."

"Don't hang up the phone. Just get up and walk over there right now with me on the line so I know you're okay."

"All right." My mind was blown; all I could do was follow his instructions. I went out to my desk, picked up my bag and walked through the front door, ignoring the questioning voices around me.

By the time I got to the coffee shop, my cell phone still held tight in my hand, Sam was already there. He was talking to the girl behind the counter and motioned me over.

"It's mostly for meetings or study groups, but nothing's scheduled today," the girl said.

I stared at Sam blankly. He put his arm around me and took the phone from my hand tenderly.

"Thank you," he told the barista.

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything."

"We will," he replied politely before leading me away. We went around the corner and through a door to a small room with a few tables and chairs dotted around.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"What happened?"

"I-I saw a news story. The guy who was supposed to make that delivery I told you about? The one I took? He's dead, and not from natural causes."

"Holy shit.

"Yeah. It's not just a weird coincidence, is it?"

"Not a chance," he said grimly.

Sam hugged me and I sobbed against his chest, finding the comfort and warmth I so desperately needed in his arms. A tiny part of me was still mad at him, but it didn't seem to really matter anymore.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thank you." I wiped my eyes and stared him over. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Sam looked down at the basketball shorts and tank top he wore. "Oh. I was in the gym."

"Oh."

"Carly, look. I'm sorry about last night. It was the last thing I expected to happen, but I handled it badly."

"I'm sorry too," I said miserably.

"I should have told you what I do. But it didn't come up the first night and I just…most of the time when I meet a woman and tell her what I do she's either afraid of it and runs away or excited by it and gets kind of gross. I just wanted to get to know you and let you get to know me without all that bullshit. Can you understand that?"

"I guess. So…what happens now? Are you going to arrest me?"

"Of course not. But this is a real problem."

"I know."

"You don't."

"Of course I do." I looked glumly at him. "You can't risk your career by dating me, right? You can comfort me since I'm hysterical but that's it."