"We need to get Komansky over here now, Harper. I want a written report on file. She needs to start keeping a diary of the incidents and report each of them. And it’s time to get a bodyguard."
"No, no bodyguard," Kelsey protests against me.
I don’t release her. "Yes, a bodyguard. Me."
"You?" she echoes.
"Me."
She stares at me for a long moment, her green eyes still wet with tears. "Okay."
"Good. Glad that’s settled." And that means no Susan. At least, I hope it does.
Bear interrupts us as he lumbers to his feet. "I’m going to take these things in to the station, Harper. I’ll call you later."
"Thanks, bud." I say over Kelsey’s head. It feels so good holding her.
But she’s moving away from me now, wiping away her tears and reaching for the phone. "I need to call Susan," she explains.
Damn.
"And tell her not to come over tonight. It’s not safe."
"No, it’s not," I readily agree. Because if she comes over, I’ll be there. Definitely not safe for her.
"Thanks, Harper."
"Hey, what are partners for?" Unfortunately, we’re still talking partners in the non-sexual sense here.
I roll over and face the back of the couch. Kels offered me the guestroom, but if I can’t be with her I want to be near the only entrance into this joint.
So the sofa it is. Kelsey has good taste and it’s not horribly uncomfortable for a sofa. I’ve slept on a hell of a lot worse, with and without company. The pillow came off of Kels’ bed and I have to admit it’s got me so distracted I can’t sleep.
I’d know the smell of her shampoo anywhere and this ain’t it. Susan must have been the last one to use this pillow. I toss it to the end of the couch. Rolling up one of the two blankets, I place it under my head instead.
As I turn back over, I glance at the bedroom door and notice a light is still creeping out of it. She left it slightly cracked when she went to bed. I look to my watch. One-thirty in the morning. Hell, she went to bed hours ago.
I get up and move to the door, knocking softly. "Little Roo?"
No answer. I push the door open and find her sleeping. She’s curled up tight under the blankets and as I approach the bed I can tell she’s been crying. God, she must be terrified.
While I’m not wild about Susan, some part of me feels guilty that she’s not here to offer Kelsey the comfort I can’t. Well, that she won’t let me give her. God knows I want to.
There is a book laying next to her, "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil." At least her reading tastes are excellent. Nothing better than a book set in the deep south. However, maybe not the best choice for her at the moment.
I take the book and place it on the night stand as I let my fingers brush through her hair just once. It’s as soft as I remember and my touch lingers a moment longer than necessary. "No one will hurt you while I’m around, Kels. I promise."
Snapping off the light, I leave her room and close the door behind me.
<fade out>
Episode Fifteen: Home Is Where The Heart Is
I hear the incessant knocking on Harper’s office door and I glance over to see a messenger holding an envelope. I finally get up from my desk and move to my doorway.
"You know, it doesn’t take a mental giant to figure out after five friggen minutes that she’s not in there."
The pimply face messenger with the headsets still doesn’t hear me. Maybe it’s the heavy metal music he’s listening too, full blast, on his cd player that’s rusted his ears shut. I step forward and tap him on the shoulder. He jumps forward and bangs his head on the door.
Dipshit.
I smirk as he rubs his head and turns around holding out the thick yellow envelope to me.
"You wanna sign for it?" he asks as he chomps his gum.
No, you stupid little turd I want to smack you into the middle of next week.
Instead I take his pen and sign his book so he will take his purple spiked head out of my immediate viewing area. Jesus, I remember a time when clean-cut got you the job.
As I turn the envelope over in my hands I see it’s from a travel agent. Harper must be going somewhere for the holidays. I wonder who the lucky girl is and what waters of the Caribbean they’re gonna be scaring the fish in.
I return to my desk and my paperwork, tossing the envelope down on the corner of my desk. Some people have all the luck.
An hour or so later, as I lean back in my chair and stretch, I see her come in.
"Hey, Tabloid!" I call as I wave her into my office.
She sticks her head in and gives me a wide, ornery grin. "Yeeesssss…."
I can’t help, but laugh at the silly look on her face as I gesture toward the envelope. "Messenger from Heavy Metal Hell delivered that about an hour ago."
She practically bounces into my office.
"Oh goody!" She snatches the envelope from the corner of my desk.
"Somebody hit you with a giant happy stick today?"
"Yeah, well." She opens the envelope and gives the contents a quick check. "I haven’t been home in almost four months…."
Oh, a whole four months? Christ, Tabloid, I haven’t been home in ten years. Except, of course, for the occasional court appearance.
Then it hits me: home. She’s going home for Thanksgiving and not to some tropical island with the catch of the day. I am both surprised and pleased. "Have fun. Enjoy," I offer as I lean forward and close the file.
She plants herself on the corner of my desk staring down at me. "So do you and Dr. Feel Good have plans?"
I take a deep breath and lean back. "Umm, no, actually, we don’t. Susan will be home with her family."
"And she didn’t ask you?" Harper looks pissed.
"Harper, here’s a tip, my friend." I lean forward and grin just a little. "Not everyone can be as open as you are. We all don’t live in a perfect world. Susan’s parents don’t know about her so she can’t take me with her."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Hey, no problem." I wave it off as if it doesn’t bother me.
"Erik’s gonna be home though, right?"
Jesus, Harper, when did you become so interested in what I do for the holidays?
"No. He won’t be home until the following week. He’s still shooting in North Carolina. And, before you ask," I offer as I hold up my hand, "I’ll be going to a Bogart and Bacall movie marathon. Decked out in baggy sweats and ballcap. It’s become a tradition I’ve been pretty happy with over the years. Last year it was Clark Gable marathon."
Another convincing lie about my life.
"Un-huh. Old movies and stale popcorn on Thanksgiving? Come on, Kels."
Okay, maybe not so convincing.
"No, actually, they have really good gourmet popcorn at this place, thanks. Very ummm," I leer as I look at her, "buttery. You know, the kind you gotta lick off your fingers after?"
To make sure I get my point across to my partner, I insert the first two fingers of my left hand into my mouth to the second knuckle and close my eyes. I very slowly start to bring them out of my mouth, but just before they are clear, I suck them back in and then remove them with a little smacking noise. I give the end of my thumb a little lick with the very tip of my tongue.
When I open my eyes, Harper is gone.
Sometimes, in a war, the best thing you can do is a tactical retreat.
That’s what I’m telling myself as I sit in my office and try not to think about Kelsey’s fingers in her mouth and the soft sucking sounds coming from her throat and …
Oh God. I groan and shift in my chair.
Why is it so fucking hot in this office today?
I nearly pounced on her. I want her. I want her like I’ve never wanted another woman in … well, ever, truth be told.