8. Hate Being Played

8

HATE BEING PLAYED

Z ander heard a knock at the door to his office entrance. Must be his dinner that was later than normal.

When he walked out of his office into the lobby, he saw Regan Philes through the glass window standing there with a big bag of food in her hands.

He unlocked the door. “Moonlighting as a delivery person?”

“No,” she said. “I think this might be yours. It says PI on it and it was in front of my doorway when I was getting ready to leave. It at least feels warm so I hope it wasn’t there that long.”

“Come in,” he said. “Sorry about that. It should have been here fifteen minutes ago. They know me there.”

He always said Conway, but once they realized what he did for a living, they just put PI on his order. Stupid if it wasn’t the same delivery person who obviously didn’t know what it stood for. Must be they thought the P was for Philes.

“Guess that means you order a lot. Not just frequently but a lot of food. Unless you’re having a party.”

He took the bag out of her hand. “I didn’t know what I wanted and said screw it and got three things. It makes good leftovers and I’m here more than I’m home.”

“It feels that way for me too.”

“I’ve noticed that,” he said.

Sometimes when he left at night he’d see the light on under her door even though the front office was locked.

He knew she had a security system just like he had.

“The curse of owning a business,” she said.

“It is,” he said. “I try to get my parents to understand that, but you’d think they’d get it with their jobs.”

Which he’d told her about before and wasn’t sure why he had when he didn’t normally volunteer that much about himself.

“Sounds like me with my parents,” she said. “Or at least my employee. I got the lecture yesterday from Miles that I had no life.”

He laughed. “That might be worse than getting it from your parents. Since you’re working late too I’m going to assume you didn’t have dinner. Want to join me?”

“You’re obviously here because you’ve got work to do,” she said.

“So?” he said. “Only a stupid man would put work before Chinese takeout with a pretty neighbor.”

She flipped her hair off her shoulder playfully. “Oh, how could I turn down such a fabulous offer?”

That might have been the first time he’d seen her react like that. He liked it.

Liked it a lot.

Maybe he could get her to open up some more.

Just like he told Betsy. Not shy, but guarded. Though the shield seems to have been lowered.

“Then come on in,” he said. “I’ve got a table in my other office. My father is more organized than me and we can eat there.”

“Your father?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, flipping the light on in the office and moving over to the table that he used as a conference room that his father was now going to use as a work space a few times a week.

“I thought he was retired.”

“He is, but over the weekend he was complaining he was bored. Actually, my mother first told me my father was. Then when I was at their house, my father made a comment about promising my mother he’d retire at fifty-five so he didn’t worry her anymore.”

“So guilt on her end and relief at the same time?”

“Something like that,” he said. “She put the bug in my ear to see if I had work for him, but I wasn’t going to ask my father and have him feel as if he was obligated. I hate being played.”

She laughed and checked out the containers of food and he realized his usual habit of eating right out of the carton was not going to work tonight.

Not the most hygienic thing with someone you weren’t dating.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got plates?”

“Yep,” he said. “Or you can just take whatever you want for yourself.”

“If you don’t have plates I could, but maybe it’s more fun to have a little bit of everything.”

“Kind of my thought,” he said, getting up to walk out of the room and over to the coffee bar. Thankfully Betsy had everything he ever needed in there so he grabbed two plates, some forks and napkins and returned.

“Not even paper plates,” Regan said.

“We are high end here.”

She let out a little giggle and then seemed to stop herself. “Thanks,” she said and then filled her plate. “So your father is going to help you out?”

“He is. After weeding out their dialogue, I got exactly what you said. My mother feels both guilt and relief that my father retired. My father is relieved to not be working full time but bored out of his mind and needs to occupy his brain. He was a great detective before captain and it will be extremely helpful to get a second set of eyes on things.”

“It seems it’s going to be a positive result for you both,” she said.

“Free labor always is,” he said, laughing.

She had a shocked look on her face. “That is a good way to look at it.”

“It’s not what I want, but he won’t take any money. It’s one of those arguments we had on Monday. Thankfully Betsy told me she’d keep an ear out and start keeping track of things my father might need or I could get gift cards for restaurants and he can take my mother out. It’s not really about money, but I’m not taking advantage of things either.”

“Everyone has their pride,” she said.

“They do,” he said. “And I’m glad to have company tonight.”

“I’m happy you asked,” she said. “Most tend to be afraid of spending time with me one on one.”

He lifted an eyebrow and chewed his lo mien quickly. “Afraid of you? Do I look like I am?”

She wasn’t much more than a slip of a woman that he could probably pick up with one hand.

And the thought of that had his mind imagining her legs wrapping around his waist as he did it.

Yep, he needed to stuff his mouth to occupy his brain with other thoughts.

“No,” she said.

“Then why say that?”

She chewed the small bite of chicken she’d picked up. “I tend to ask questions. People think I’m always analyzing them. It’s tiring. Like I might be thinking if they mean everything they are saying or if I’m reading more into every word out of their mouth. As I said, it’s tiring. We are just eating dinner.”

“Kind of like a cigar is just a cigar?”

Her face turned light pink again and he’d done that on purpose to see if he could get a better read on her. “That is referring to a dream, but the same thing. This is dinner and not a session.”

“I’m not sure I could afford you,” he said, laughing.

She closed one eye at him. “I take insurance.”

He laughed. “Something I’ll keep in mind. But you could say I do a lot of the same things as you.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Talk and ask a lot of questions. Hazard of the job.”

“Just says we are good at it,” she said. “Miles was picking on me for my obsession with Survivor .”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t see you doing that.”

“Because you think I’m too high maintenance?”

“Nope. I think you just don’t like to get dirty. Not that you can’t but choose not to.”

“You’d be right,” she said. “And if I ever did a reality show I’d never tell them what I did for a living.”

“Neither would I,” he said. “Too much judgment.”

“Right,” she said almost excitedly. “I don’t want to think it’s fear, but that is part of it.”

“Human nature,” he said. “That people fear being at a disadvantage.”

“Interesting,” she said, getting comfortable. “How is that?”

He laughed. “Are you sure we aren’t in a session?”

She flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m going to counter you, as it’s my nature too. Bet we could spar with each other for hours.”

“You could be right. But why don’t you answer my question, if you’re not afraid to.”

There was the touch of personality he was dying to see.

“Not afraid,” he said. “When I was a police officer I’d see there is a natural fear of someone in authority that might risk your freedom.”

“Very true,” she said. “But I’m not in a position of authority.”

“Sure, you are,” he said. “People seek you out to find out what is wrong with them.”

She let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who thinks someone only goes into my field of study to find out what is wrong with themselves?”

“I won’t say that,” he said.

“But you think it?” she asked.

“Not really. Unless there is something you want to share.”

“Why don’t you tell me why you think I went into this field?” she said. “You said you have the best of both of your parents and followed them, but I think there is more to it.”

“Oh boy,” he said. “You are going to analyze me. Guess I get to do it to you too.”

“Quid pro quo,” she said, smirking.

“You know, Doc, I like this side of you.”

“Maybe I like this side of me too.”

“We’ll get to that another time. But why I think you went into this field. I think for the obvious reason you want to help people more than you are trying to solve the riddle of something wrong with yourself.”

“That is a good part of it,” she admitted.

“But you want to save people too because something happened in your life that you felt you didn’t save someone,” he said.

“Hmmm,” she said.

“Am I right?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Meaning you aren’t sure?” he asked. He didn’t expect that.

“Just trying to see if there was some of that in there and you might be right, but I never thought of it.”

“Glad I got you to see it,” he said.

“You aren’t going to ask me what it is?” she asked.

“Nope. Might be too personal for spontaneous Chinese takeout.”

He was hoping maybe he could do this another night too and he could keep her on the hook for it.

“Probably true,” she said.

“So tell me why you think I’m a private investigator. I already told you I didn’t like to follow the rules.”

“And I believe I told you that I still think you follow them when they count. I think it’s more you don’t like the red tape that comes with the rules. The bureaucracy. You’re a no bull crap kind of guy.”

“I am that,” he said. “What you see is what you get.”

Her eyes moved over his chest and his arms slowly and then landed on his eyes.

“I can appreciate that.”

He wanted to take that to another level but told himself not to jump the line.

“You haven’t said why you think I went into this field.”

“I think you have your own code of justice. You want to right some wrongs too even if it’s not wrongs that happened to you. Maybe wrongs in society, not sure. It’s not for me to say. And though I’m not someone that talks openly about reincarnation, I believe if you were someone else in another life, you’d be a vigilante.”

He pursed his lips, his head going side to side. “That is slightly accurate,” he said. “If I believed in those things.”

“You’d be a modern-day Robin Hood. You’d go after the bad to help the good. That is what you get from your parents. Your mother is out for justice. Your father probably was too.”

“Yes to both,” he said.

“You still have a code of honor though.”

“Always,” he said. Which was why he wouldn’t push this night to be much more than a friendly dinner with a neighbor.

She came to him, and he used the opportunity to get to know her more.

He might have to make the next move, but it wouldn’t be tonight.

“Then here is to us fighting for what is right in our own way.”

She held her fork up to his with a piece of half eaten broccoli on it. “Guess it’s good we share a wall in the building. Maybe we can come up with some code to knock on the walls.”

“Your office in your suite is on the wall next to mine?” he asked.

“That is what Garrett said.”

“Garrett Fierce?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Why are you frowning?”

“When was this?” he asked.

“Last week maybe. He said he was meeting with you over something and then stopped over to just check in on the noise level knowing that privacy was important for me.”

Damn it.

The last thing he wanted was the Fierce men or women getting into his business.

He knew what they were about and Garrett was dropping more hints than he cared for.

“What did you tell him?” he asked. “Am I a bad neighbor?”

“Nope. Kind of perfect in a way,” she said. “Not that we see much of each other.” She finished chewing her last bite and her plate was cleared. “And speaking of that, you’ve got work to do and I’m taking up your time.”

“I’ll walk out with you,” he said. “I might as well go home and get work done there.”

“Now I feel bad,” she said. “For keeping you here when you could have gone home to eat.”

“Don’t,” he said. “This was the best break I’ve had in a long time.”

She dipped her head down. “Maybe for me too. I’ll help you clean up.”

“Just leave the plates here,” he said. “They are pretty much wiped clean. I’ll throw the food in the fridge and deal with the dishes tomorrow.”

She grimaced, but he didn’t want to leave her and bring the plates to the bathroom to wash them. She’d probably sneak out on him and he didn’t want her walking to the parking lot alone in the dark.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “They might harden?”

“They will be fine,” he said. “Sadly, it’s not the first time that I’ve done it.”

He’d come in and get them before Betsy found them or she’d feel the need to wash them. His father wouldn’t be in tomorrow so no big deal there.

They picked up the dinner together and he shut the door to the room and then locked up to walk out with her.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll do it again.”

This way he wasn’t leaving it in question.

“I might like that,” she said when they got to her car.

“Might?” he asked.

“You’re good at solving things, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

She laughed and got in her car and he had to say he was thrilled with the new Regan that showed herself tonight.

The question was why did it happen?