Page 113 of Blow Me Down
And, wow, look at you! Much better in person than in pixel. Corb’s one hell of a lucky guy.” He looked around me, toward the car, then back to the office.
“Where is the boss man? Inside? Were you two playing some sort of voyeuristic game? Do I want to hear the details? Of course I do. Tell me everything.”
I stepped back, my happiness at seeing him fading. “I don’t know where Corbin is. I haven’t seen him since we… er… returned.”
“You haven’t? Well, it was probably late,” Holder said, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. “Did he say when he’d meet you here?”
“No, you don’t understand,” I said miserably as I followed Holder to the door.
He secured his bike to a rack and pulled out a ring of keys. “I haven’t spoken to him, either.”
Holder turned around to stare at me. “You what?”
I did that horrible hand-wringing thing that I detest so much (but don’t seem to be able to stop myself from doing). “I haven’t talked to him. I don’t have his phone number.”
“You mean he didn’t call you?”
I shook my head, the misery inside me blossoming into something so awful, it made me feel cold and physically sick.
Holder shook his head as well. “I don’t believe it. Your phone line must have been down or something.”
“No, it was fine. I checked every couple of hours. I thought maybe he might not have my number, but I’m listed in the phone book.”
Holder’s brows pulled together in a frown as we stood there next to the building, the early morning sun starting to warm the air around us, fingers of sunlight snaking around the trees and buildings to touch my chilled body.
“That doesn’t make sense. Even if he couldn’t get your number from the phone book, he’s got it on your daughter’s account information.”
“Well, he didn’t call. I’d know if he did. There was no voice mail.”
“Something must have come up to keep him from calling until he probably thought you were in bed,” Holder insisted, looking puzzled. “That’s the only explanation that makes sense to me.”
I bit my lip, not wanting to state the obvious, but Holder was Corbin’s best friend. If the worst happened, he’d find out. “I thought perhaps he might have decided not to carry our relationship over to the real world—”
Holder interrupted me before I could finish my horrible musings.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Corb’s madly in love with you, as if you don’t know,” he said, squinting against the sunlight to examine my face. “Whoa. You look like you’ve had a rough night. You haven’t been thinking what I think you’re thinking, have you? You have, haven’t you? Bleh, women.” He took my arms in his hands, then abruptly spun me around and gave me a little push toward my car. “No, I’m not even going to dignify such an outrageous idea with the obvious objections. We’ll go see the man himself, and I’ll let him explain to you why you’re way off base there.”
“We’re going to see Corbin?” I asked, hesitating before unlocking the car doors.
Although that had been my goal all along, I was more and more worried about the reason Corbin hadn’t called me. Even Holder was surprised by that.
“Maybe you could just give me his number instead and I could call.”
He got into the car next to me, gesturing for me to start it. “Stop being such a woman. Take a left out of the parking lot. I’ll give you directions as we go.”
“I can’t help it; Iama woman,” I snapped, tired of feeling so unsure, tired of the cold, sick feeling inside, and hating the fact that I could doubt someone I loved so deeply.
“Yeah? That doesn’t mean you have to act like a wimp. What happened to the fierce, frightening Captain Amy who scared the crap out of everyone whenever she got mad?”
“That Amy doesn’t really exist—” I started to say.
“Bullshit!” I opened my mouth to protest, but Holder gave me a look that left me speechless. “Just what do you think you were doing in the game, Amy?
Pretending to be someone you aren’t? Buckling Swashes doesn’t work that way.
People who play someone totally against their character drop out after a day or two. It’s just too much work to be someone you’re really not. The game taps into your inner dreams and desires; it doesn’t manifest ones at odds with who you really are. So don’t give me any more of that crap about the pirate Amy not being the real you, because I know better. Now, are you going to continue to whine and snivel, or are you going to find out what is keeping Corbin from lavishing his attention on you?”
A thousand protests came to my lips, a thousand objections to what Holder was saying, and a couple of pithy (and obscene) suggestions about what he could do with his advice, but all that evaporated as I thought over what he said.
