I offered Tim a kidney. That doesn’t mean I’m scheduling surgery.”
“So you won’t sleep with me.”
“Are you asking me to?”
“No. I’m looking for clarification. Is sex on the table?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“This isn’t about me.” He sounded frustrated.
“But you’re the one asking.”
“I’m not asking. I’m not interested.”
“Then we don’t have a problem.”
“But if I was, you’d say yes?” he asked, sounding as if he really wanted to know.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She eyed his mouth. Maybe with a little more kissing.
Then she jerked her head away. No, she reminded herself. She had to put all her energy into Cody. If she turned her attention from him for even a second, something bad might happen.
“You don’t want me, so it’s not an issue,” she said. “Right?”
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the parking garage. Tim was waiting by the limo. She sighed. It had been a lovely ride. She looked forward to the return trip. Maybe they could stop by Kidd Valley for burgers before they headed up I90. She was starved.
She turned back to Nathan. “I’ll see you soon,” she called.
He muttered something she couldn’t hear and pushed a button. The elevator doors closed.
“Strange, strange man,” she said to herself, and walked toward Tim.
FRANKIE TYPED frantically on her computer keyboard. Even when she wasn’t sure what to say, she kept typing because the rhythm was as important as the words. Her to-do list hovered in the periphery of her mind, but most of her attention was on her article for the monthly newsletter. She had the lead.
Damage to the Puget Sound continued at a devastating pace. So many species of plants and animals had already disappeared. Many more were on the verge of becoming extinct. Sometimes, when she wrote, she felt as if the fate of the planet rested on her shoulders. That if she could just find the right combination of words and sentences, she could change everything.
“Frankie, got a sec?”
Frankie looked up at her boss and nodded, not showing her irritation at being interrupted. She hated to be interrupted before she was finished. It broke her rhythm. But she’d learned that most people didn’t understand that.
She finished her sentence, saved her file, then pumped some hand sanitizer onto her palms and began rubbing her hands together.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Exactly eighteen times the groups of four, because seventy-two was her favorite number.
She followed Owen into his crowded office. There were reports and books and office supplies stacked everywhere. The room seemed to close in on itself. Sometimes Frankie couldn’t stand to be in there—she needed order—but today she was strong.
She looked at her boss. “What’s up?”
He sighed heavily. “We’re not going to make it, Frankie. We don’t have the funding. I’ve been fighting them for nearly two years and it’s a battle that can’t be won. We’re shutting down.”
“No,” she breathed, unable to believe him. “No, no. This is where I belong. We have to stay in business. We have to make a difference. We’re needed.”
Owen, a thirtysomething, heavyset man, shrugged. “We’ve let most of the staff go already. The truth is we’re too radical to get mainstream funding and the fringe element that agrees with us is generally lacking in funds. Right now the only thing that keeps us from going under is the money you put in. I can’t keep taking that from you.”
“I don’t mind,” she said quickly. She didn’t need the money. Blood money, she thought as she closed her eyes and saw the blood on the living room walls. It wasn’t like in the movies. It wasn’t clean or neat or organized. When someone got shot in real life, it was messy. It smelled and it stayed inside your brain forever.
“It’s not right,” Owen told her. “You need that money yourself.”
“I don’t.” For what? This place was her life. “We need publicity,” she said. “Something big.”
Owen’s eyes were kind. “Frankie, let it alone. I figure we’ve got a month left. I’ll understand if you want to leave now and look for something else. Or hell, take a vacation now that you’re not spending every penny here. Check out the endangered plant life in Hawaii.”
“We can get him,” Frankie told Owen. “He wants those towers and there’s going to be a lot of protesting. We can use that. We can get him.”
It was what she wanted more than anything. To destroy Nathan King. To punish him in every way possible. To leave him weak and alone and afraid.
“You can’t keeping doing this, Frankie.”
“I can. I will. I’ll find a way.”
“It’s time to put the past behind you.”
She’d trusted Owen enough to tell him the truth about what had happened—she’d never thought he would use it against her.
She stood. “It will never be time. I’ll never forgive him. I’ll get him, then people will listen and we’ll have enough money.”
Owen rose to his feet. “Frankie, he’s your brother. He’s the one who gives you the money. You can’t use it to destroy him.”
“Sure I can. That’s what makes it a perfect plan.”
She walked back to her desk and returned to her typing. But her mind wasn’t on the article anymore. It was on how she was going to destroy Nathan once and for all.
“BUT I DON’T WANNA,” Cody whined. “It’ll be boring.”
“Probably,” Kerri said as she smiled at her son. “Long and boring.”
“So we could stay home.”
“You’re right. Why should we worry about all the kids in the world who don’t have food or a home or toys? I mean, they should just have to put up with that. It’s way more important than you being bored.”
Cody sighed heavily. “You’re trying to make me feel bad.”
“I know. Is it working?”
“Kinda.”
“Look at it this way. I’ll bet the food will be really good. And it’s a charity for kids, so there might be some fun stuff for you to do. Either way, we’re helping and that matters.”
“Okay.”
The consent was grudgingly given. Kerri could have just told him they were going and he didn’t have a choice, but she preferred to have him a willing partner. Besides, he had to learn about the importance of giving to others. Although technically they were attending the charity because Nathan King had e-mailed her that her presence, along with her son’s, was expected. But she preferred to put a happier spin on things.
“Can we have some of the charity?” Cody asked.
“Not this week.”
“But what if there’s really cool stuff there?”
“Then you’ll know what to put on your birthday list.”
Although if it was too expensive, she wasn’t going to be able to afford it. Something to worry about later, she told herself. Fortunately, Cody’s wants had been fairly manageable to date. Although he’d asked for a video game system at Christmas last year, it hadn’t been one of the really pricey