Page 11 of Pleading Innocence

“Fine,” I said. “But you could’ve told me before you took me on your little adventure. Unless you wanted me to join in on the fun. Although I’d usually be down, I have to say, I don’t think I’m comfortable helping you cheat…”

He interrupted me by yelling at me. “I’m here to see my sister, man! Damn it,” he said.

Tiffany? Oh. OH. Ew!

“Oh, shit. Sorry, man,” I said.

“Damn it, man, you’re so disgusting,” he said, still looking like he was about to throw up, tapping his foot and staring at the elevator light, waiting for it to come to a stop so that he could walk out of this uncomfortable conversation.

“I didn’t know it was her!” I said with a grin. “I’m sorry.”

Okay, it made sense now why he didn’t want me to come. He would’ve been right too, because my heart shouldn’t have jumped the way that it did—like a giddy, inexperienced fool—at the thought of seeing her at home, all dressed down in her lounging clothes. And I was glad for the darkness of my frickin’ full beard to hide the flush in my skin now that I knew we were almost at her door.

Well, thank goodness he fucking told me before we fuckin’gotto the door! Fuck, damn it! That could’ve been bad, because if we’d just showed up there, I wasn’t sure how well I’d do at pulling myself together at the last minute. My reaction would’ve been a dead giveaway. Man, okay. Whew. All right. We were heading to Tiffany’s place? This was where she lived? Again, Mario. That sly dog. How the pieces kept coming together stunned me. Dude was a lot slicker than I’d thought. Wait a minute…

Was that why Mario left earlier today? I wanted to burst out laughing at the possibility that he was probably in there right now and had no idea that we were on our way. The devious part of me was excited for the potential of drama as I felt as if we were sneaking up on them. I thought it would be hilarious to see the look on Mario’s face, if this wasn’t a situation that could end dangerously wrong.

Yeah, so the other part of me was concerned for my best friend and Tiffany. The devious side of me that was hoping Mario was there and that he’d get caught had to be shut down and pushed aside. I found myself worrying instead, wishing I could text him in advance to let him know to run, hide, something! But, oh, it looked like we were too late, as Chris had come to a stop in front of an apartment door.

Whoo. Okay. My chest tightened a bit; it was hurting a little. My pulse was deafening! I held my breath as he knocked, trying to appear as normal as possible even though I was freaking out for two reasons. One, Mario had left the office earlier and I knew the two of them couldn’t keep their frickin’ hands off each other. So I was almost one-hundred-percent certain that Mario was with her right now.

Two, I was trying to stick to my promise to Chris. That night at the office where he nearly pummeled my face in was pretty scary, not gonna lie. Even though I’d still been ready to risk it all that night, and I had given in to that temptation the next day. I had managed to take hold of my self-control since then though and was trying to fight the temptation by busying myself with other work, other people, and other activities.

Now that I thought about it, it probably wasn’t such a great idea after all for me to find out where Tiffany lived. Chris was right, I should’ve stayed in the car, because this was going to make it even harder to resist the temptation of her. Knowing where she lived was going to make it harder for me to think about her, lying in my bed late at night wondering where she was and if she was thinking of me too, wishing she was in my bed.

Now that I knew where she lived, I could just find out how she felt. It was a lot safer when I could only see her at work, and when she’d left Crawford & Beam for good, I’d thought it would make it a lot easier to keep my promise to Chris. But that’s fucked now. Damn it, man, I’d been doing so well too.

Chris looked up at me suspiciously after two knocks were unsuccessful, as if he thought I knew something. Why would he think that? Even if I did, he had no reason to suspect me…of KNOWING anything. I tried not to gulp even though my throat had gone dry all of a sudden. I tried to keep my face neutral. It wasn’t like I had the answer to what was happening behind that door. I understood why he’d be suspicious though, given our history, but well, there was no point in going back down that road again.

Still, he’d always been suspicious of me. As he should’ve been. I nodded at him and rocked on my heels, fighting the urge to start whistling to overplay this act of ‘normalcy’ because I was so damn uncomfortable.

He knocked again. Nothing. Oh-ho-ho, okay, I was certain now that they were definitely getting it on in there, and my skin grew hot. The thought of Mario and Tiffany being together at this moment was exciting me a little bit. Damn, this was not the place or the time. I couldn’t help but clear my throat and swallow to prevent myself from passing out. I shifted on my feet to lean against the wall in an effort to play it off as restlessness born from boredom.

“Maybe she’s not home?” I suggested.

He looked at me and pulled out his phone. “Yeah, maybe. I’ve been trying to call her but somehow it keeps going to voicemail,” he said.

I responded with a shrug. This could have been the point where we turned around and Mario would’ve owed me for possibly saving his ass, especially since I was even more convinced now by the fact that if he couldn’t reach her by phone. Mario was in there for sure. I thought he was about to give up and walk away and I was on the verge of gratitude. But if one thing about Chris—he was one persistent motherfucker.

Chapter 8

Chris

MaybeAnthonywasrightand she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to just leave though, just in case she was and was just having a pissy day. I pressed my ear to the door and I could pick up on the sound of voices. I wasn’t sure what I was listening to until I heard some suspenseful music and deduced that maybe she had the TV on or something, but it was turned down super low. I’d never visited her before, but it was nice to know that she was getting comfortable.

At least, I hoped so. Going by the sound of the TV, I thought maybe she was using her personal space for her own cozy moments. It put a smile on my face and filled me with a sense of pride. I was excited to see what she’d done with the place. I hadn’t seen it since I’d asked Mario to get the furniture and other stuff in to decorate it and make it as ‘homey’ as possible for her. But I mean, it was up to her whether she let me in or not. I wasn’t sure if I should take the TV as a sign that she was home or a sign that she forgot to turn the TV off before she left the house.

Ah, heck. I had this thing about me where once I got the thought to do something in my head, I got a bit obsessive about it. Plus, in this case, I wasn’t sure when I’d have this free time again to come see her, so I didn’t want to leave without trying my best. I think it also had something to do with my anxiety about our mother calling again and trying to figure out what happened when I spoke to Tiffany, even if I had no intention in sharing our conversation with her.

As a nearly forty-year-old man, I still got stressed when my mother went full-throttle with her demands, although I could ignore her calls like I did quite often. Grimacing, I decided to try again, knocking on the door a little louder. Because this wasn’t just about the pressure I felt from my mother. Maybe Tiffany fell asleep or something and that’s why she couldn’t hear the knocking.

Anthony, on the other hand, seemed to be uncomfortable—or maybe he was just impatient. I couldn’t tell by looking at him. I did notice that, although he was shifting on his feet, he was looking down the halls as well, with some form of impatience or boredom, perhaps.

“You know, if you gotta leave, it’s cool, you know?” I said, just in case he was looking forward to seeing Tiffany and that’s what was making him shifty. I was trying to take his word for it, but he’d betrayed his word to me before. It was only smart of me to second-guess any promises he gave me, even if we were best friends and I had forgiven him so that we could mend our friendship. There was still that extra level of carefulness when it came to him. He’d shown me that he was willing to disregard our friendship before for a night of fun, so why would I put it past him to do the same again?

“Nah, it’s cool, man. It’s no rush. I mean, it’s kind of a rush since we’re on my lunch break and I was really looking forward to relaxing and de-stressing with a drink or two before getting back to my clients and their cases, but you know, hanging out with my best friend while he panics at his sister’s door is just as fun too,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at him. Okay. Well, it didn’t sound like he was having fun or wanted to be here, so that was a good sign, right? Unless he was really good at pretending. I was going to continue to keep my eyes on him.

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