Marc (Bowen Boys, #4)(12)
He had no idea and he was supposed to be this great detective. He decided that the next time checks went out he’d pay more attention. He realized then that he had no idea when payday actually was. Damn it, he was a slug, and was going to start paying attention to the everyday things in his office.
He ate his meal, trying to think of why this woman, of all the women he knew, was on his mind so much. He looked up at his mom when she laughed. He flushed, knowing that he’d missed something again.
“She’s got you all twisted up, doesn’t she? I wonder why.” He said that he wished he knew as well. “Have you slept with her yet?”
He nearly choked to death on his drink. When she smiled at him, he decided that she’d been teasing him. He started to tell her it wasn’t the least bit funny when she spoke again.
“Marc, why do you hold yourself back from women?” He wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he didn’t. “You’re a good man. You have a great job, money in the bank, and you’re not too bad to look at either. That is when you clean up and don’t wear those horrible ties. Why don’t you ask her out? Ask her back to your place for a roll in the hay or whatever you men call it these days.”
“I’m not discussing my sex life or the lack of one with you. I’ll have you know that she’s not really my type. I’m more of the….” Christ, he hadn’t been out in so long he had no idea what this type was. “I go for the more flashy type of women. The kind that doesn’t cringe whenever I’m near them and doesn’t avoid getting closer than a foot to me every time I’m speaking to her.”
He realized he’d said too much when she looked at him oddly. He started to change the subject but he found he couldn’t. Really, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to his mom about Joan, but he had to speak to someone.
“The first day I came back from Illinois I was on the phone getting a repair man to come out and see if he could fix my fridge. I walked past her without seeing her. She came into my office and nearly threw me out. I touched her.” He sat back in his chair, no longer hungry. “I grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving and she hit me and then…unmanned me. When I grabbed her foot to stop her again, she broke my nose with her foot. I had to hold her down to keep her from hurting me. After I apologized to her and told her she wasn’t being fired, she looked at me and told me if I touched her again, grabbed her, she’d kill me. I believe her.”
“You frightened her.” He nodded at his mom. “And since, what have you done to make it up to her?”
“I’m at my wits’ end with trying to get her to trust me. I’m not upset about her saying that to me. Hell, I feel like I’m lucky that she didn’t kill me. But….” Marc looked at the people in the restaurant as he continued. “She brings the same thing every day to lunch. Those dried noodles in a bag that she cooks in the microwave, and bottled water. I checked on how much they cost, and you know you can get like a dozen of them for less than five bucks. She never goes out to lunch with anyone, and she wears the same five shirts every week. She has no coat to speak of, and her shoes are worn through.”
“You want to help her.” He nodded, still watching the room and not his mom. He didn’t want her to see how affected he was by this. But he was pretty sure she’d figured it out.
“I don’t want to just help her, Mom, I need to. I find myself thinking of her instead of work more hours of the day than I should. When she comes into my office I find that I can’t seem to breathe until she leaves again, and then her scent is all over the office for hours after she leaves.” He looked at her then. “And she hates me.”
She looked at him for a long minute, then another before she spoke to him. Marc took her hand when she reached for it, suddenly afraid she was going to tell him something he didn’t want to know about Joan.
“Marc, have you given any thought as to why you feel this way about her? I mean, beyond her working for you. Do you know what it sounds like when you talk about her?”
He let go of her hand and stood. The waitress brought him the check and he took it before his mom could. He wasn’t going to dignify what his mom was implying with an answer. As he started to walk away, she spoke again.
“It happens, Marc. Cats that lose their mates for one reason or another find another later in life. It might be just as you, too, believe it to be…she’s your other half. Sonya was so young and so were you, maybe this is your second—”
“I had a chance, Mom. And she died. There will never be anyone to replace her and you know it.” He stretched his neck and body, calming his cat before he continued. “Please don’t bring this up again. I won’t…I can’t think along those lines only to be hurt again when it turns out not to be her, and she leaves me again. I can’t do that again.”
She stood up and hugged him, and he felt tears in his eyes. He’d not cried since he’d been told that Sonya had been killed, and wasn’t going to give into them now. After helping his mom on with her coat, he walked her to her car.
“Marc, I love you son. And I’m sorry that I upset you. Will you forgive me?” He told her not to be ridiculous and kissed her cheek.
He helped her into her car and drove home. It wasn’t late, but he needed a good run. Stripping down, he shifted and ran for over three hours until he was nearly falling over with exhaustion before he even went into his house. But as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was wide awake and wondering if Joan was warm enough or if she had enough food to eat.