know."
"You don't know?"
"Well, I'd planned to call her when I got home tonight, but, ahh, something came up."
"You mean…"
She abruptly stood up and waved. "Yo Debbie, Rob, over here now."
"Mare, you don't have to…"
"Oh yes I do."
Hearing the tone of her voice, Rob and Debbie hurried back to the table.
"What's wrong?" Rob asked. "Did he…"
Marianne cut him off with a glare. "You are in big trouble, pal."
She turned to Debbie.
"Deb, we have to go. Paul has something important to do and it can't wait any longer."
She turned to Paul, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you again." She said. "You were very sweet. Jillian is a lucky girl, even if she doesn't know it yet."
"Jillian? Who's Jillian?" Debbie asked as Paul said goodbye and headed for the door.
"I'll tell you later." Marianne turned back to Rob. "As for you…"
10:45 PM
The windows of Paul's third floor condo on the corner of Charlesgate East and Boylston Street looked out across the busy intersection onto the north end of the Fens, a beautiful and peaceful park of ponds, flower beds, and manicured lawns as well as a running track, basketball court, and a baseball field.
He let himself in, dropped his coat on a chair, and headed for the bathroom.
Man, Marianne was something else. Who knew cops could be so hot? And funny. I really had a good time with her tonight…and she seemed to like me…maybe I shouldn't have said anything about Jillian…but she knew…damn she's a good cop. And there is something about Jillian…
Three minutes later, his mind was still racing as he walked back into the living room.
…but there's no way I'm moving to Seattle or she's staying in Boston, so forget about her and call Jillian.
He flipped open his wallet, retrieved a small slip of paper, and held it before him with reverence. On it was written the number .
A glance at the clock as he fished his phone from his pocket told him it was 10:50.
Is it too late to call?
He sat on the edge of the recliner, next to the table that held a small lamp. After switching on the light, he studied the clock again for half a minute.
Geez, why am I so nervous?
He jumped up and grabbed a beer from the fridge. After a long pull, he checked the clock yet again as he paced in front of the sink.
Come on, get on with it. She's just a girl. But what if she's sleeping? Will she be upset if I wake her? Maybe I should wait and call her in the morning. Maybe…
"What the hell's wrong with me? This girl's got me so freakin' off-balance I can't think straight. Is this some cosmic joke or something? We've both been going to the coffee shop for years and now, suddenly, there she is, right in front of me, stealing my line. I wouldn't even have noticed her if she hadn't…maybe it is fate or something…damn, she even has me talking to myself!"
He shook his head to clear it.
"Call. Just call her before it gets any later."
His thumb started punching keys.
10:55 PM
Less than 350 yards away, Jillian was saying goodbye to her friends. Her second floor apartment at 1171 Boylston Street was across the Fens from Paul's condo.
"Don't worry," Jenna said as she and Liz donned their jackets. "He'll call tomorrow for sure."
Liz agreed. "For sure. He obviously likes you."
Jillian repeated her earlier contention. "If he calls, he calls. I really don't care one way or the other."
Liz chuckled. "Sure you don't. That's why we spent the past four hours talking about him. ‘Cause you don't care one way or the other. HAH! You are so in denial girl. Do you even remember what movie we were watching? This guy has you bad, girl, really bad."
"Bad," Jenna mimicked, laughing, " really bad ."
Liz turned the knob and opened the door, but before she could move, the phone began to ring. Jillian made no move to answer it.
"What are you waiting for?" Liz asked. "Go get it. It's probably him."
Jillian stood her ground.
"Well if you won't answer it, I will."
Liz started toward the
Learning to Kill: Stories