"Almost." Dar set the keys down. "I know you can get a ride from anyone here, or a cab, but sometimes it's good to have your own transport. Just leave it at the hotel, and I'll get it picked up." She knelt down and put her hand on his knee. "Pick a causeway and find a beach. That's where I go to chill out."
His eyes met hers, and he managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Paladar. I'll try not to crash into any palm trees."
Dar patted his leg then stood up. "Later." She disappeared again, leaving silence and the faint scent of leather in her wake.
Alastair jingled the keys lightly in his fingers. "Y'know, Bea, if I was thirty years younger, Kerry would have a fight on her hands," he chuckled wryly. "No offense to my wife."
"You know, Alastair, you're right," Bea said, after a pause and a long sigh. "She is really neat. How did we miss seeing this side of her all these years?"
"Don't know, and really don't care. I'm just glad we have her because she's damn good people." Alastair regarded the pictures facing him. "I'm going to get out of here, Bea. Arrange what you can, just drop me the details."
"Will do, boss. Have a margarita for me."
Alastair stood up. "You can bet on it," he said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll go get myself a tattoo. It's been that kind of week."
"Alastair."
"Yeah, I know. My wife would kill me." Alastair sighed. "Talk to you later, Bea." He hung up the phone and circled the desk, heading for the door. Just short of it, he stopped and regarded the boxing dummy.
Its face, what there was of it, was scuffed. He picked up one of the gloves and looked at it, the laces loosened from the last hand it fit over. He put it over his fingers and slid it on, finding the inside of it snug, but well worn.
Did Kerry really spend that much time beating the daylights out of something? Was the stress here as bad as all that?
Experimentally, he faced off against the dummy and socked it one in the puss, making the spring loaded torso rock back and forth energetically. Its stolid face looked back at him as it wobbled back and forth.
He hit it again. "Huh." He was faintly surprised at how satisfying it felt. Then, after a moment's thought, he wasn't surprised. Quietly, he removed the glove and hung it back next to its mate, giving the dummy a pat on the head.
The corridor was empty when he left the office, and he took advantage of that to stroll to the elevator, slowing when he spotted Maria approaching him. "Hello, Maria."
"Senor McLean," Maria responded politely. "Dar has asked me to make sure your bag is put in her car, yes? I sent Mayte down to take care of that for you," she said. "I think the army has come for her and her papa out in the parking lot. I was going to go see that."
"I'll join you." Alastair punched the elevator button. "Thanks for grabbing my things. Does Dar always think of everything?"
Maria merely looked at him, both her dark eyebrows lifting.
"Silly question. I know she does." Alastair held the elevator door and followed Maria inside. "She's thought of everything ever since I've known her."
The door closed and they rode down in companionable silence.
Chapter Nineteen
KERRY HELD THE door for her mother as they entered the small, typically decorated Japanese restaurant. It was quiet inside, too late for the happy hour crowd, and she was glad enough to settle in a comfortable banquette to one side of the sushi bar.
It felt very good to simply sit, even with her mother across from her. "Ugh." She leaned back and let her arms rest on her thighs. "What a bunch of posers."
Cynthia looked up from examining the menu, peering at Kerry across a pair of half glasses. "Are you speaking of my colleagues?"
"Yes." Kerry lifted her hand a rubbed the back of her neck, too tired to worry about being rude.
"Well, I have to agree," her mother said. "I can't believe they disregarded all of the things we discussed earlier in favor of a senseless attack on your company."
A waiter came by, bowing to them and waiting in silence.
"Can I get a Kirin, please?" Kerry asked. "Mother, would you like a drink?"
Cynthia pondered a moment. "I would." She decided. "Could I perhaps get a glass of white wine?"
"Yes of course," the waiter said. "You want something to start?"
Kerry glanced at the menu. "Trust me to order?" she asked.
Cynthia hesitated then nodded. "Of course," she said.
The waiter turned to Kerry, his eyebrows cocking.
"Ah--two orders of the edamame, please, two of the watercress salads--Mother, I think you'd like the tuna tataki roll, and I'd like the sushi and tempura plate, please." Kerry glanced across the table. "All right with you?"
Her mother looked a touch nonplussed. "Well, certainly. That sounds lovely." She handed her menu back and settled back in her seat. "I can't say I've tried sushi. Your father wasn't partial to oriental food."
Kerry remembered that. "Strictly old fashioned American food. I recall," she said. "I didn't acquire a taste for it until I moved down to Florida. It's too hot to eat that heavy all the time." She played with her fork. "Japanese food is usually cool or room temperature, looks great on the plate, and it's good for you on top of it."
"Hm," Cynthia murmured. She glanced up as the waiter returned, bearing a tray with Kerry's beer, her wine, and two plates of green pods. He put the pods and the drinks down, gave them another little bow, and retreated.
Kerry picked up her glass and took a sip of her beer. It was cold and light, and it went down easy. She leaned back against the padded surface and relaxed, glad the day was almost over.
Almost. She had this dinner to get through, drop her mother off back at her office, then make the drive back to her hotel and wait for the crowning end to her day that, with any luck, would involve her, Dar, and being naked.
Or her, Dar, and footy pajamas. Or her, Dar, and remaining fully clothed. She really didn't care as long as the her and the Dar part were in there. She missed her partner something fierce, and now the constant strain and aggravation were starting to wear on her.
"Are these like peas?" her mother asked, studying the edamame.
"Soy beans." Kerry put her beer down and picked one up, squeezing it and popping the resulting bean into her mouth. "With a little salt."
"Oh." Cynthia picked one up and examined it, then put pressure on the end and started a bit as the pod split and the bean almost went across the table. "My goodness." She captured it and put it cautiously to her lips, chewing it as though it might explode.
Kerry finished her pod and went on to the next one. "Dar and I play games with these," she related. "I can squeeze one into her mouth from across the table."
Her mother stared at her. "Kerrison," she said, after a moment. "You don't really."
Kerry smiled wryly. "Yeah, I do," she said. "It's our neighborhood joint near the office. They all know us there. They don't care if we throw food at each other." She picked up another pod. "We do lunch there a lot. It gets so hectic and stressful at the office, it's nice to just sit and blow off steam sometimes."
"That seems very strange," her mother said then sighed. "But really, what isn't strange these days. I don't understand what the world is coming to."
True. Kerry felt like the world had stopped and started spinning the opposite direction. So much had changed in so few days, and looking forward she saw only more change ahead of them. Not good change, either.
It was an uncharacteristically pessimistic feeling. She didn't much like it.
Cynthia ate another bean slowly. She picked up her glass and sipped her wine, watching Kerry over the rim. "It's been a terrible day, hasn't it?"
"Lousy," her daughter agreed. "Lousy couple of days. The only bright spot for me today was Dar telling me she's heading up here." She paused. "Well, that and you telling the other senators off."