Page 100 of Love Is an Art
Still, that guy was muscular. And I came along because I didn’t like the thought of her being alone, trailing some scammer. He might get violent if he feels threatened.
And now we know he is involved with Ms. Morris.
I jog back to the deli.
I’m sure she can take care of herself. She can probably talk herself out of any situation.
Better safe than sorry.
I push the door open. The bell jingles. Every inch of space has been used to showcase products. Stacks of cans are lined up on the rows of shelves in front of me. Behind a clear, plastic barrier, the deli guy mans the front counter, bright packets of candy in the shallow bay shelving underneath.
I look down the aisle for Tessa.
Howard has backed her up in the corner.
I move slowly down the narrow corridor toward the two of them.
“You’re following me. I know you,” Mr. Howard says. “You’re Robinson’s lawyer. I looked you up.”
“I am Ms. Robinson’s lawyer,” Tessa says. “I can’t speak to you without your lawyer present.”
“Two turkey sandwiches ready,” the counter guy calls out.
Tessa moves to get them, but Howard blocks her. He has a broad chest like a bull.
“You can’t talk to me?” Mr. Howard gets in her face. “You can follow me, but you can’t talk to me?”
Tessa stands straighter, holding her ground.
“Come get two turkey sandwiches,” counter guy repeats. He’s trying.
“Sir,” I say. I think I’m allowed to talk to him.
He turns slightly. I can’t get between him and Tessa. There’s not enough space.
“You appear to be threatening my fiancée,” I say.
“Two turkey sandwiches,” deli guy calls again.
Mr. Howard turns toward me. “I wasn’t threatening. I don’t like being followed, and I don’t like someone claiming they can’t talk to me.”
“Let’s go,” Tessa says. “Let me pick up our sandwiches. I already paid for them. And you can tell Mr. Howard that this rule exists to protect him.” Tessa scoots from behind Mr. Howard toward the counter, pulling me with her. I hold her hand but face Howard, walking backward, so I can watch him. She grabs the two sandwiches.
He stays where he is. Tessa tugs me out the front door.
“What were you doing? He could have hurt you,” she says as soon as we’re outside.
“He could have hurtyou,” I say.
“It’s not going to go well for him if he punches the opposing lawyer,” she says. “He could’ve punched you.”
“That’s all very rational, but what if he is angry and irrational?” I ask.
“Point taken.” She holds me by the hand and quickens her pace. “Let’s get out of his vicinity. I have no idea where we can eat our sandwiches, though. We need to find another playground or park.”
I like Tessa pulling me by the arm and being concerned about me.
Google Maps shows another playground nearby, and we walk there. The sprinklers are on, and kids are running in and out of the water, shrieking. We unlock the gate and slip inside to sit on a bench shaded by a tree.
