Page 69 of For Her Own Good

“You don’t have to do anything yourself. Just say you’re thinking about harming yourself or others and then it’s out of your hands. Then I can do something. Please, let me help you.”

“You have.”

And then he shoulders by me. Not roughly, only the same jostle you’d experience on a crowded subway. No way could I call it an assault. Unfortunately. It’s only when I sit down at my desk that I realize he didn’t say it. Same thing he always says on his way out. There was no “See ya, doc,” and I hope to God I’m wrong, all wrong about this, and I will in fact see him again.

* * *

Starla

When I do my accounting, I like to listen to music. Loud music. I always deal with numbers during the day because my brain is sharper for them then, and it didn’t occur to me that many people would be around my building during the day since, you know, working. I was promptly disabused of this notion when my neighbor dropped by one evening and asked if I was planning to audition forWicked.

I’ve never gotten over my embarrassment sufficiently to sing at all anymore, and while I still like to blast something in my earholes while I take on my finances, I do it with headphones. Today I’m listening to all the things Rick Astley is never going to do to me on repeat because I don’t know, I am. Does Lowry know what rickrolling is? Maybe I should teach him…

I pick up my cell to text him when a hand lands on my shoulder.

I’m very on top of who is supposed to be in my apartment at any given moment. Holden, my housekeeper Sofia, any maintenance people. Lowry doesn’t have a key yet, though I don’t know why not, he should, but he wouldn’t just…show up. No, only women who’ve had the precisely wrong amount of prosecco do that. All of this probably explains why I throw an elbow and, after standing up, a punch.

My headphones have been ripped off my head and the cord out of my laptop, so now my entire building is being serenaded by the baby-faced British rocker. Great. Also, my knuckles hurt and Tad is sprawled on my floor with a hand to his cheek.

Oopsies.

“What the hell, Starla?”

“What do you mean, ‘What the hell, Starla?’ I think I’ve got more of a right to ask, ‘What the fuck, Tad?’ What are you doing here? Don’t you know how to use a buzzer or knock or pick up a fucking phone? Jesus Christ, you scared me half to death.”

“Well, you’ve probably given me a black eye.”

“I don’t feel bad about that at all. You’re lucky I didn’t do worse. How did you get in here anyway?”

He shrugs. “I still have my key.”

Note to self: get Holden to change the fucking locks.

“And you thought it was okay to use it? We haven’t been together for years. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tad is clearly expecting me to offer him a hand up, but he is clearly mistaken. I shut my laptop instead, so we can stop shouting over Rick.

When I turn back, he’s on his feet, brushing his hands over his thighs. “Aren’t you going to offer me an ice pack?”

“No. I’m going to offer you a nice tall glass of get the fuck out of my house, though.”

“Such language. Doesn’t your daddy wash your mouth out with soap for having a potty mouth like that?”

The wave of emotion that crashes over me is complex. I hate this fucking fucker for a thousand different reasons, and I have no idea why he’d know about Lowry. I’ve certainly never mentioned him in a board meeting. I wish I had some witty comeback, but I’m overwhelmed and then ticked off at myself because he clearly takes my silence for confirmation that I do in fact have a daddy.

“Huh. I knew you were seeing someone.”

Now I’m even angrier at myself. That dickhead was bluffing and I’ve as good as confirmed it for him. I wish I’d have punched him harder, shoved a knee into his junk. He’s not going to fall for a denial, but I can at least play it cool. “And why would you think that?”

“Because you weren’t here when I stopped by this morning.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve showed up uninvited and unannounced at my apartment? You are such a trash heap of a human being.”

And thank god I brought my laptop to Lowry’s last night. Would Tad have tried to break into it? What the hell? I’ll have to be more careful. But what can I do about it if Tad wants to follow me or have someone follow me on his behalf? There’s not really a damn thing I can do and fuck if I’m going to stop seeing Lowry while this shakes out. Not only do I not want do, I don’t think Icould.

“You should know he’ll be here soon and I would advise you against being here when he arrives. He won’t take kindly to you violating my home and my privacy.”

I feel like there are bugs crawling all over my skin. So gross, so fucking gross. And while my use ofsoonmight be overstating things a bit because Lowry won’t be here for hours yet, he will be here and he will want to murder Tad. Well, he will if I tell him about this, but…I don’t want to. If I have to, I will, but I don’t have to yet. I can handle my own business. Like a grown-ass woman.

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