Page 45 of Pretty Poison
Duggins had sensed Rocky was down, so he went for the knockout punch. “Asher got passed over for a promotion because of you, asshole,” Duggins had shouted at him. “You’ve turned him into a laughingstock at the office. If that’s not bad enough, you can’t even muster the energy to jerk him off.” Duggins had laughed dryly. “The man is getting screwed at work while getting blue balls at home.” Rocky had been horrified to realize Asher discussed their sex life, or lack thereof, with Duggins. Then he saw the wicked gleam in the man’s eyes and knew Asher hadn’t betrayed his confidence. “You should be more careful about leaving your laptop open and unattended.”
Rocky had bristled. “You had no right to look at my browsing history.”
“Asher was my best friend long before you came along. I had every right.” Duggins blew out a deep breath. “You’re like a drug he can’t stay away from. If you love Asher as much as you claim to, then do him a favor and take your pretty face out of Vegas before he overdoses on you.”
Duggins had confirmed every fear Rocky had, so leaving made the most sense.
“Hmmm,” Trudy said, startling Rocky from his memory. She rose from her chair and studied the ties. “Hold them up to your neck one at a time.”
Rocky did as she asked. “Have you heard from Peter or Shelly?”
“No, but I didn’t expect to either. First baby, remember.”
“How much longer do you think it will be?”
“Could be a few more hours,” Trudy said.
“Or a few days,” a soft feminine voice said.
Rocky turned around and locked eyes with Lillian Travers, who’d just stepped out of their restroom. He hadn’t been aware she’d arrived yet. “A few days?”
Lillian smiled and nodded. “I was in labor for thirty-six hours with my daughter. It was worth every second. I’m sure your friends will feel the same way once they’re holding that tiny gift from heaven in their arms.” She stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Lillian Travers.”
Rocky shook her hand. “I’m Peter’s partner, Rocky Jacobs,” he said. “As you’ve heard, Peter and his wife are having a baby today”—Rocky grimaced—“or sometime this week.” Indeed, there had to be an easier way to bring children into the world than torturing their mother for days on end. Ouch. “I hope you don’t mind meeting with me instead.”
“Not at all,” she said. Lillian shifted her focus to the ties Rocky still held in his hand. “I’d go with the lavender stripes. The color will pop with your blue eyes.”
“Thanks,” he said, looping the purple tie around his neck and shoving the mint-green one in his pocket.
“If the tie is for my benefit, please don’t bother. I couldn’t care less about formal clothes.”
Rocky took in the classy navy blue sheath dress and nude heels she wore for their meeting. She’d pulled her hair into a low ponytail and applied her makeup with a light hand, choosing to highlight her features rather than create an entirely different face. This was a woman who cared very much about her own appearance at least.
“You did tell me the tie would complement my eyes, so I’m going to wear it. I’ll just be a moment. Can we get you anything to drink, Mrs. Travers?”
“No, thank you. And it’s Lillian. Please don’t rush on my account. I’m early as usual.”
“And I don’t want to keep you waiting.” He just needed to take a few deep breaths to get himself under control. Dredging up all that shit with Duggy Bear had put him in a strange headspace.
He left Lillian in Trudy’s capable hands and returned to his office to finish getting ready. Once there, the tie felt more like a noose around his neck than a piece of men’s clothing. He cycled through meditative breathing, and it still didn’t work. Rocky felt like he was choking, so he removed the tie and shoved them both in the closet. He took a few more deep breaths, then returned to reception to get Lillian. If she noticed the lack of tie, she didn’t say anything. Rocky saw numerous questions in Trudy’s eyes, though.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” Rocky asked her. There was an unwritten Southern rule that said you had to ask your guests at least twice if they wanted refreshments.
“I’m positive,” she replied.
Satisfied that he’d made both his grandmothers proud, he smiled at the older woman. “What can our agency do for you?”
“Are you familiar with my story, Mr. Jacobs?”
“Rocky,” he corrected. “Yes, ma’am. I’m so very sorry for what happened to your family.”
“Thank you,” she said, then launched into a conversation about what she’d like to do to honor her daughter’s memory.
Her plans extended well beyond lobbying the legislature. She wanted to open shelters for abused women. Lillian planned to call it Halianna’s House. Another one of her passion projects was raising money to help fund search and rescue teams to assist law enforcement when someone vanished. She explained that the sheriff’s department had been hamstrung by tight budgets and other issues when Halianna disappeared.
“I’d like to call this service Halianna’s Heroes,” Lillian said. “Because these people worked tirelessly for her. And it’s not just about helping the people who have been victimized. We need to do more to prevent these crimes from happening.”
The more she talked, the harder Rocky found it to breathe. Here was this woman who’d lost so much, and she was trying to make the world a better place while Rocky ran, hid, and made the trauma about himself. Shame washed over Rocky, making it hard for him to maintain eye contact.