Betrayed 1(23)

On the fifth ring (yes, I was counting), she answered the phone and I released the breath that I’d been holding in my lungs.

“Hello there,” she said, her voice sultry in my ear. “Did you finally wake up?”

“I did,” I gushed. I shook my head at the sound of my voice. I sounded like a fucking squeaky-voiced teenager. What the fuck was this woman doing to me? I cleared my throat and deepened my voice. “I was disappointed that you had left. I woke up with a very big surprise for you.”

She giggled in my ear. “I’m sorry I missed it. I’m an early riser and I realized I only had that little black dress there, so I just came home to shower and put on some fresh clothes. You left a mess down there, Mr. O’Connor.”

“I would have been happy to help you clean that up, Miss Goodman.”

“I’m sure you would have.” I could tell by her voice that she was smiling. “Maybe next time you can give me a hand.”

Maybe next time… uh… hell yes…

Trying not to sound desperate for company, I asked, “So, what are you up to this weekend?”

“Well, I have some shopping to do this morning, but I’m free later on today. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I am driving out to the country this afternoon to take a look at some property I’m thinking about buying. I was hoping you might like to come along for the ride.”

She hesitated for a second. I thought I was about to be turned down for the first time in my life. I wasn’t used to being the one doing the chasing. Women normally flocked to me. It was an odd feeling. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. I just knew I liked her.

“Okay, sounds like fun. I’ll text you my address,” she finally said.

“Excellent. I’ll pick you up around two.”

“Perfect,” she said, cooing the word in my ear.

“Okay. Great.” I said. “See you then.”



I had several cars in the underground garage beneath the building where I lived. I called down and had the valet bring around my 1975 Mercedes 400 SL red convertible that I rarely got to drive. It was a beautiful day, so I put the top down, donned my Raybans, and drove across town to pick Claire up at her apartment. She was standing on the sidewalk waiting. When she saw me and the car, her face broke into a big smile.

“Wow, what a cool car,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat. “I didn’t know we’d be going in a convertible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I can put the top up if you like.”

“No way,” she said, sliding on a pair of dark sunglasses. She rubbed her hands through her short hair. “I have perfect convertible hair. Let’s go!”

I smiled at her like a lovesick pup. She smiled back, then turned to strap in. I waited until she was buckled up, then put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and smiled.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so content.



Claire

We drove for nearly two hours on the interstate, heading south out of the city, then Sean took an exit that turned onto a narrow two lane country road and we drove for another thirty minutes.

For a just a brief moment, it occurred to me that Sean might have found out that I was a cop and was taking me out to the country to put a bullet in my head.

I know, I watched too many episodes of The Sopranos.

I knew exactly what he wanted to put in me and it wasn’t a bullet.

Besides, if he found out I was a cop he would have just shunned me, not killed me. I pushed the thought out of my head and settled in for the ride. I wasn’t the least bit afraid of Sean. To the contrary, with my hand resting on his on the console between us, I felt completely safe at his side.

We chatted as we drove and the more we talked, the more I grew to like him, even though I told myself not to get too close.

He’s a criminal, Claire.

He breaks the law.

You’re going to put him behind bars.

Don’t get too attached.

Focus, Claire. Focus…

Along the way, we talked about places we’d been and places we wanted to go. We talked more about our families, swapped stories about our parents and our upbringing. I noticed the respect in his voice when he talked about his dad. It was easy to tell that Sean loved Patsy O’Connor despite his crimes and shortcomings. It was also clear why he got involved in the family business when he had so many other opportunities available to him.

Sean O’Connor was a loyal Irish son. He would do anything for his father, including, I suspected, break the law.

We eventually stopped on the side of a dirt road next to a rolling field of tall grass that went on as far as the eye could see.