Love at First flight Page 8

  “Good.”

  “Oh, Michael, this place is amazing!” Juliana ran a hand over the exposed brick wall in the living room. Like most rowhouses, it was tall and deep. The living room fed into the dining room, which led to the kitchen. There were gleaming hardwood floors and a fireplace with a mahogany mantle.

  “Thanks, but I can’t take any of the credit. The guy who owned it before me did all the work. Check this out.” He opened a door where three stairs led to a small bathroom with dark red walls and the tiniest pedestal sink Juliana had ever seen.

  “It’s so cute!” She did a double take. “Is that a phone?”

  Michael chuckled. “He put one in every bathroom. You’ll never miss a call in this house.” He led her to the kitchen where cabinets were suspended from the ceiling over slate countertops.

  “Oh, wow! What a great kitchen.”

  “Isn’t it?” He opened the stainless steel fridge and peered inside. “I have beer, water, and beer.”

  “Um, I’ll have a beer.”

  “Good choice.”

  He opened two of them and handed one to her.

  “Don’t feel like you have to entertain me. I’m sure you want to get to bed.”

  “I’m kind of keyed up, actually. Let’s go upstairs.”

  The stairs were in the living room. On the second floor, he showed her to a guestroom with a bathroom. “The sheets are clean, and there’re towels in the bathroom.”

  She dropped her bag on the bed. “Thanks.”

  The second bedroom was a combination home office and gym.

  “Do you use the Bowflex or does it collect dust like ours does?”

  “I haven’t used it much lately,” he confessed. “Come see my view.”

  She followed him up another flight of stairs to his bedroom on the top floor. The room took up the entire third floor along with an adjoining bathroom. “This is beautiful.”

  “It’s my favorite part of the house.” He walked over to slide open the door to a deck and gestured for her to come out with him.

  “You can see the whole city!”

  “It gets better.” He pointed to wooden stairs and took her up to the roof deck.

  Gazing down at the lights of Fell’s Point and the Inner Harbor, she said, “What a view.”

  “Sometimes I still can’t believe I live here. I grew up in a tiny house crammed with people. I feel like I can breathe here.” He stretched out on one of the lounge chairs and invited her to take the other.

  She kicked off her shoes and sat down. “Having something like this to show for it must make all your hard work in law school and now with your job worth it.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It does.” He took a long drink from his beer. “Do you know what Paige said the first time she saw this place?”

  “What?”

  “That the basement was smelly and the carpet was ugly, but she could make it work if she had to.”

  Juliana snorted. “And you didn’t smack her?”

  “She never would’ve seen it the way you did, how having something like this makes all the hard work worth it.” He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “She’s never had to work for anything in her life, so she doesn’t appreciate anything. Sometimes I felt like I was just another thing she had to have.”

  “Seems like you did the right thing calling it off with her.”

  “I know I did. All day today I tried not to think about what happened last night, but then it would come back to me with this rush of pain. It’s strange. She made me so mad, yet still it hurts so much. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Because you loved her, and she let you down. You’re probably disappointed more than anything.”

  “Probably.” He finished his beer in one long swallow. “She hit me.”

  “What? She hit you?”

  “After the party when she finally got that I meant it when I said it was over between us.” He brushed a hand over his face. “I can almost still feel it.”

  “Someone needs to smack her,” Juliana said with indignation.

  “We’re quite a pair, huh?”

  She laughed. “We’re a two-person support group for losers in love.”

  He rested his head back against the lounge chair and smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I am, too.”

  Juliana woke up disoriented the next morning in the strange bedroom with the blue walls and curtains—until the events of the day before came rushing back to her. What am I doing here? I can’t stay with a guy I met on an airplane! I must’ve lost my mind while I was in Florida. She got up to make the bed, straighten the room, and get dressed. Tossing the last of her belongings into her bag, her hand brushed against the ivory silk nightgown she bought just last week with Jeremy in mind. An intense ache streaked through her when she imagined him with the faceless Sherrie. Had he acted yet on his newfound freedom?

  Juliana sat on the bed to catch her breath and fought the urge to call him. Was it too much to want to hear his voice like she had every morning for so long? “You will not call him.” Determined, she stood up, zipped her bag, and went downstairs. In the kitchen she looked for some paper to leave a note for Michael and instead found one from him sitting next to a key on the counter.

  “Good morning! I made coffee for you. All you have to do is press start on the coffeemaker. There’s cereal in the cabinet over the stove, otherwise it’s slim pickings. Here’s a key for the front door. Make yourself at home. Feel free to use the roof deck and anything else you want or need. I should be home by eight, and we can deal with your car then. Call my cell phone if you need anything (the number is on the card I gave you). Have a good day! M”

  Juliana read it again. He was such a nice guy, and it made her mad all over again to imagine his fiancée hitting him. He didn’t deserve that. What he did deserve was a friend. Standing there with his note in her hand, she thought of some things she could do to help him out while he was working crazy hours. Since she couldn’t pay him much rent, she could do the grocery shopping, cooking, and laundry. Maybe this would work out well for both of them. He’d give her a place to hide out for a while, and she would make his life easier during the trial. She put the key in her pocket and hit “start” on the coffeemaker.

  Michael’s day began at seven in a meeting with the jury consultants they’d hired to help them empanel the twelve citizens most likely to convict the Benedettis. They pored over demographic reports, census information, and a PowerPoint presentation that outlined the consultants’ idea of the perfect jury.

  We’ll never get it, Michael thought.

  The defense had an ideal jury of its own, and he could guarantee it looked nothing like the one on the screen. In one week, the battle would begin. If they were lucky, they would get half the ideal citizens the consultants identified.

  With the meeting heading into a fourth hour, Michael excused himself and left it in the capable hands of his second chair, George Samuels.

  Michael had just returned to his office when Tom Houlihan knocked on the door. The picture of an up-and-coming politician, Tom had close-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and a boyish face that made him look much younger than his fifty years. Michael respected the hell out of the guy and didn’t like the expression on Tom’s face as he closed the door.

  “What’s up?” Michael leaned back in his desk chair and gestured for his boss to take a seat.

  “I heard you had quite a weekend.”

  “He didn’t waste any time,” Michael said through gritted teeth.

  “He’s upset. His daughter’s upset. His wife’s upset.”

  Michael hated having this conversation with his boss, of all people.

  Tom put both hands on Michael’s desk. “Here’s the deal, Michael. Your personal life is none of my business, and I told the Admiral the same thing. What is my business is the trial you’re starting one week from today. You’ve just broken up with your fiancée, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask whet
her your head’s in the game the way it needs to be right now.”

  Michael didn’t blink when he replied. “It is. The trial is all I’m thinking about. You don’t need to give it another thought.”

  Tom studied him for a long moment before he said, “Good. You know my door’s always open if there’s anything I can do for you in the next few weeks.”

  “Thanks, Tom.”

  “Oh, just one other thing. I saw the report this morning from Rachelle’s detail. You had someone with you last night who wasn’t on the list. What’s up with that?”

  “She’s a friend who was with me when George called me in. Rachelle took a liking to her and wants me to bring her again. I’ll get her on the list.”

  “I don’t have to remind you to be careful.”

  “I’d never do anything to endanger her, Tom.”

  “I know.” Tom hesitated before he added, “Are you all right? You know, the thing with Paige and all…”

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

  Tom nodded. “Carry on then.”

  As Michael watched him leave, his cell phone vibrated on his desk. He checked the caller ID to find that Paige was calling again and ignored it. She had left six hysterical messages on his voice mail since he left her house on Saturday night, and he had no plans to call her back. He had twenty minutes until a meeting with his ballistics witness, which was just enough time to review the report one more time.

  The phone on his desk rang. “Maguire.” He pulled the file he needed from a sloping pile.

  “Michael.”

  He groaned. “Not now, Paige.”

  “You have to talk to me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “But we’re engaged…”

  “We’re not engaged. Not any more. The wedding is off. I’ll talk to you, but not until the trial’s over. Not one second before. Am I clear?”

  “What am I supposed to do until then?”

  “Maybe you should spend the time thinking about what you’re going to do with your life. It’s time you figured that out, don’t you think? Now, I have a meeting, and I have to go. Do not call me at work again. I mean it, Paige.”

  “Michael, please.”

  He slammed the phone down with a vicious swear.

  “Everything all right in there?” his assistant called.

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  Juliana let herself into the house on Collington Street that had been her home for the last four years. As she shut off the alarm, she almost felt like she was breaking into Jeremy’s house and was amazed at how disconnected she felt from him on just her first full day without him. She checked the mail and paid a few bills from a joint account they opened when he was sent to Florida. He provided the money, she wrote the checks.

  After the chaos of her family life, Juliana had always loved this house. Jeremy’s mother had taken impeccable care of it, and they put their own stamp on it. But after seeing Michael’s home, it just seemed boring in comparison. It had none of the charm or style of his place.

  Juliana went upstairs to the bedroom and moved fast to pack what she wanted to take to Michael’s. The bedroom was full of memories—the candles on the bedside table, the framed photos of her and Jeremy, his clothes hanging next to hers in the closet. She picked up a photo of them taken at the beach the summer before. Studying his tanned, smiling face, she wondered if he had wanted other women then, too. Breathless from the pain, she put down the photo and hurried through the packing.

  She rushed back downstairs with two bags, weak with relief that she had found somewhere else to live for the time being since there was no way she would’ve been able to stay in their place after what happened. She reset the alarm and locked the door. On the walk back to Michael’s house, she took several deep breaths to settle her rattled nerves.

  Making her way up Chester Street, she noticed a man standing outside of Michael’s house, looking up at the front door. He was young and might have been Hispanic. “Can I help you?” she asked, startling him.

  “You live here?”

  She nodded.

  His eyes narrowed. “Just you?”

  A prickle of fear crept down Juliana’s spine. “Yes,” she said since there were people close enough on the sidewalk to come to her rescue if necessary.

  He looked her over again and then walked away.

  Juliana hurried up the stairs, her hands shaking as she used the key. Inside, she locked the door, dug Michael’s business card out of her purse, and called his cell phone.

  “Hi,” he answered. “Everything going okay?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She hesitated, wondering if she was overreacting.

  “Juliana? What is it?”

  “I, um… I had kind of an odd encounter on the street a minute ago, and I thought you should know about it.”

  “What kind of encounter?”

  She relayed the conversation with the man on the street. “I thought of what you said about them watching you, so that’s why I told him I live here alone.”

  “Juliana!” His distress came right through the phone. “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but you shouldn’t have put yourself in jeopardy like that! What if he had grabbed you or something? Are you all right?”

  “I am now.”

  “What did he look like?”

  She described him.

  “Doesn’t sound like any of the Benedetti’s known associates. Since he didn’t really do anything threatening, I can’t see the point of calling the cops.”

  “I guess not. I just thought you should know. Sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother,” he said, still sounding rattled. “You were right to call me. Thanks for what you did, but don’t do anything like that again. I want you to be careful.”

  “I will be. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Michael hung up with her, picked up his office phone, and dialed Tom Houlihan’s direct line.

  “Hey, it’s Michael. I need you to authorize a cop at my house until the trial is over.”

  “I thought you’d turned down protection.”

  “A guy on the street outside my house just asked my roommate if she lives there alone. He gave her the creeps. And I’ve had the feeling I was being watched a couple of times lately when I was on the street.”

  “Consider it done,” Tom said.

  “Thanks.”

  Chapter 11

  After she talked to Michael, Juliana called her brother Vincent.

  “Hey,” he said. “Are you back?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “My stupid car is dead at the airport. Can you do one more day with Ma? I’ll get over there before work tomorrow.”

  He groaned. “Do I have to? She’s been a bear all weekend.”

  “She’s a bear every day. You just don’t see it most days. Will you do it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Thanks,” Juliana said, relieved.

  “You owe me.”

  “Don’t go there, Vin.”

  He laughed. “So how’s Mr. Wonderful?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Still no ring?”

  “Don’t go there, either,” she said, shutting down one of her brother’s favorite subjects. He couldn’t understand why Juliana hadn’t pushed Jeremy into marriage, which she found ironic since Vincent had been pushed into two disastrous marriages of his own.

  “Hey, you know what I always say: if he’s getting the milk for free, why buy the cow?” He laughed at his own joke. “Moo.”

  “That’s enough, Vin,” she said softly.

  “Strike a nerve?”

  “I’ve got to go. Don’t forget about Ma.”

  “Don’t forget you owe me. Hey, do you need help with your car?”

  Juliana’s anger faded a bit at that. “No, thanks. A friend’s going to help me. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After she hung up, his wo
rds echoed in her mind: why should he buy the cow when he’s getting the milk for free? “Yeah, well, it’s not my milk he wants!” Juliana shouted to the quiet house. “How does that grab you, Vin? It’s not my milk he wants.” She’d heard that stupid line from Vincent a million times over the last ten years, but it took on a whole new meaning now.

  “I’m not going to do this.” Furious with herself, she stood up. “That’s enough.”

  [BRK[

  Michael got home just after seven and was greeted by music pulsing through the house and an aroma that made his mouth water. He followed the noise and the smell to the kitchen where Juliana danced about as she tended to a pot on the stove. She moved with the abandon of someone who didn’t know she was being watched. Her dark hair, in a high ponytail, swayed in time with the music. Watching her, something stirred deep inside him, the same curious thing he felt when he’d looked over to find her sitting next to him in the airport.

  “Hey,” he finally said from his post against the doorframe. She didn’t hear him so he said it louder.

  She startled. “Oh! Michael! You scared me!”

  “Sorry.”

  Her face flushed with embarrassment as she turned down the radio. “How long have you been there?”

  He smiled and pulled off his tie. “Long enough. What are you making? It smells fabulous.”

  “Chicken parmesan. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving. This is a nice treat. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since the last time I was in Rhode Island.”

  She took a taste of the sauce. “It’s ready.”

  They sat down to eat, and Michael groaned out loud when he took the first bite of tender chicken. “Oh my God. This is unbelievable. Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

  “I grew up with an Italian grandmother. She taught me.”

  “She taught you well. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  When they were finished eating, he said, “Let’s clean up and go get your car.”

  “I’ll clean up.”

  “No way. My mother might find out I didn’t help, and that wouldn’t be good for me.”

  Juliana laughed. “I’ll never tell. Go get changed. You can help next time.”