Quicksilver Dreams(190)
I also saw that he feared they would catch him before he could leave the country. In his mind, there was no way he would allow anyone to commit atrocities. Not when there was something he could do about it. He remembered the horror of 9/11, and he didn’t want anyone to have to suffer that kind of soul destruction. But he couldn’t go to the cops because he didn’t want his father to go to jail. His feelings and thoughts were all confusing and contradictory, and it wasn’t all thought through.
Perspiration was dotting Paul’s upper lip and forehead. He was truly afraid. “I’m fine,” he said sharply, and I realized I was still staring at him.
“Sorry.” I shook my head slightly. “That was probably uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. Look, I’m going to the men’s room. When the guy, the waiter, comes back, will you handle this for me?” He stood and dug through his pockets hurriedly but clumsily, pulling out his wallet, keys and change simultaneously. With fumbling fingers, he tried to juggle it all, but he only managed to drop several coins as he tried to dig out bills. He’d pulled out more than needed and tried stuffing a few bills back in before dropping his keys.
Stilling his bumbling motions, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, as though asking for help from a divine presence. I could see that his hands were shaking, which alarmed me after having experienced him as a suave, cool and collected guy just a few days ago. I was sure this was a strange state for him to be in.
“I’ve got this.” I grasped his hand supportively, surprised to note that his fingers felt like ice even though it was at least a hundred outside. I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Go take care of business.”
“Okay.” Exhaling with some exasperation, he tossed his wallet and loose bills across to me. “I’ll be right back.”
Gathering up the pieces, I pulled out the appropriate bills, putting everything else back neatly. He’d left his keys on the ground where they’d fallen, so I reached over with my toe and pulled them closer so I could grab for them without having to get up. I even managed to eat more of my udon, which had cooled enough that I wasn’t going to get severely burned. The vegetables were crisp and delicious, and the shrimp just popped in my mouth with pure goodness. No way did I want to miss out on this when someone else was footing the bill, and Paul was likely going to request to go as soon as he came back from the restroom.
“Everything okay?” The waiter, a middle-aged Asian dude with thinning hair, was small of stature and wore a friendly smile on his face.
“Great,” I replied absently, and I handed him Paul’s money with the bill. As he walked away, I realized that Paul had been gone awhile and frowned. Had he taken off? But no, his keys were here. Maybe his gut was really bothering him. He had been looking a little worse for wear.
Trying to be helpful, I grabbed up his wallet, keys and contract and made my way toward the front door of the restaurant. He was probably anxious to get going and would likely resent having to wait.
It was only as I turned toward my purse to answer my phone when it rang that I caught sight of the commotion outside the window. Paul was struggling with three men, one of whom I recognized as one of the guys who’d tried to grab me the other day. The other two had thick dark hair. Panic, fear and heart-thumping adrenaline overwhelmed my nervous system at once. For a second, I froze. Then I ran out the door in time to see Paul get shoved into a black luxury sedan that shot away while the door was still being closed. I managed to make eye contact with Paul for a moment as the car sped by and I saw his pale, terror-filled face against the side window.
What to do?
I looked around, but no one seemed to be paying attention. What was it with people? So self-absorbed they couldn’t be bothered to take a break from their goddamn cell phones long enough to help a guy out.