Chapter One
Tiffany Thorne woke up that Thursday morning to the faint sound of a garbage truck and traffic on the busy city streets below her. She lived in a high rise, on the 28th floor. Beside her bed on the floor lay two champagne glasses. The door to the balcony was open and the long sheer curtains fluttered in the morning breeze. The clock read 7:49. Her tongue felt like the Sahara but that was nothing compared to the anvil chorus going on in her head. Once she was able to feel slightly human ,the realization set in that she was going to be dreadfully late for work. Her first day. Her Dad had called in more than a few favors to get her the clerking position at prestigious law firm of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe. Right now, though she had a bigger concern. Who was in her shower?She rolled back over and did a face dive into the plush down pillow, groaning. It was just Hemingway. She remembered the night before. Her reluctant acceptance of the 'orientation' about the firm. . The smoky steakhouse he had taken her to. The perfectly cooked steak she had hardly touched. Hemingway was a paralegal friend who lived with his parents in one of the lower floors in her building. He so desperately wanted to be up with the big dogs at the firm. He just didn't have an edge up. Not an hourglass figure and favors like Tiffany, he had said. So they had sat sipping cocktails until she started to feel sorry for him and took him home. She had been the only fresh face in the joint when they arrived at Morton's, well, along with Hemingway who stood out like a sore thumb, his perfectly ironed shirt. He looked more like a Sunday school teacher than the tired looking, cigar smoking open shirted lawyers that were there. But when they left, she fit right in. Sweaty. smelling like smoke. And completely uninhibited."Hemm..Hemm..Do you need a towel? Hemm..They're behind the doo-".. Tiffany croaked clearing her throat. She tousled her long auburn mane and looked in the mirror.
"I look like the morning after Rohypnol" she said aloud looking at the dark mascara'd circles under her eyes."Hemm..."."Hey, babe. What's for breakfast?" Huh? Tiffany did a double take and then a mental head slap.It wasn't Hemingway as she had first thought. Through scrunched eyes she had a total recall.It was frickin' Mark Finnegan."Oh, snap!" She hid partly behind the open bathroom door and caressed the side of it, flushed and thinking of what to say."Oh, snap!?? Are you that dissapointed?"She ran her hand through her hair and stopped midway. "Ummm. Mark, listen..." He stops her and gently grabs both her arms as though she were a manikin on Saks. "Tiffany. It's okay. It's more than okay, it was grrrrreat!""Ugh," She thought.I was like a breakfast cereal?"Mark, I gotta go. I just gotta get ready.""Relax, babe. Just get ready and I'll get us a cab. You've got some time." He throws her her stockings from the floor.
On the way down in the elevator, the door opens and in walks Hemingway. He is holding a brown lunch bag and briefcase. Tiffany adjusted her over sized sunglasses and looked down at the floor in search of the trap door. Shoot, they are always there in cartoons. Aren't they.What the hell happened last night. Her mind was like Swiss cheese."Seems we're both running behind schedule, huh?" she rasped, her throat still scratchy."Uh, huh yeah." Hemingway nervously sputtered.When the elevator door opened Hemingway skittered out like a bat out of hell."What's with the weasel?" Mark cracked"Dunno, I was hoping you could shed a little light on that." Tiffany pondered aloud."Babe, let's go play."" Mark I can't play hooky, Hello, my first day?"Cutting class on the first day of being a grown-up would not sit well with her father, the Honorable Judge Ashton Thorne. She did not want to sit through yet another priorities, responsibilities and expectations meeting. Otherwise known as the PRE beatdown.
The fact of the matter was that Tiffany was 25 years old and other than being a Thorne she had accomplished very little, thus far. This gave her the occasional twinge of guilt. Unfortunately, those twinges were coming closer together. It was time for her to give birth. To her own life.
Finnegan pulled her close and pressed her hard into his body."Babe, I'm so hungry" he growled"And horny, too." Tiffany could help but notice another source of hunger. Mark was a good friend. A friend with benefits. A friend she hadn't seen but pined for, for months.Although the relationship between Tiffany and Mark had been tumultuous they worked in perfect harmony between the sheets. Mark had been a NYC fireman until an injury at a suspicious fire cut short his hero days. The events of that career ending day have never really been fully figured out.He was now an arson investigator for the city and somehow right smack dab in Tiffany's life again.
Chapter Two
The sky was overcast and the first pelts of a spring rain started to fall on the city streets. Mark looked fierce as he hailed one of the taxi cabs with his tall arm. In a moment they were slumped close together in the back of the cab staring out at the usual traffic jam, and the rain hitting the windshield. Tiffany looked at her watch and leaned her head back and sighed. With her head still pounding, last night started to come back to her. Poor Hemmingway. He had tried so hard to impress her, she could tell. His rosy cheeked boyish charm. The proud look on his face when they entered Morton's, anxious to be seen by the big dogs with Tiffany on his arm. Or at the very least trailing skeptically behind. Flash forward to the end of the night on their walk home together when Mark side swiped her at the doorway to their building. "Excuse me, but do I know you?" He tickled her side and she jumped. "Mark! Hi!" She was drunk. He spoke close into her ear. "I have been waiting like a little puppy at your step for over an hour. Where have you been my lady?". He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Hemmingway stood back and watched. He had looked pathetically small and desperate. Seeing that he was being overshadowed by Mark, who towered over him in strength, he said his goodbyes to Tiffany who barely noticed. "Shall I see you safe to your palace, my lady?" And with those words, Hemmingway was gone. Mark nodded to Stal the doorman, his arm around Tiffany and they had made their way to the elevator.
Chapter 3
The traffic was unusually bad this morning."What's the hold up" Tiffany impatiently demanded through the partition."De firebug. Traffic is backed up like de mother. All da way I can do nuthin" the cabby complained.Tiffany craned her neck out to look out of the windshield. Gray smoke was visible through the breaks in the skyline. The firebug strikes again. Still at large in Gotham. The firebug is a serial arsonist who has found a very unique and public outlet for his bitterness toward prominent local young woman. So far his building count is 3. Body count 0 or 1 if you include cats."What next. Whaaat next." Tiffany moaned" I got your back Tiff, should I write you a tardy note? I'm good at tardy. ""Yeah, I'll say." Tiffany countered dryly, unamused and anxious."Stop here. Stop here" Tiffany pounded on the partition."Would you just chill out a little." scolded Mark"Look, we can walk from here."Tiffany paid the fare and blasted through the sidewalk throng like Lindsay Lohan at a sample sale."Whoa little lady, you got a license for those heels?" Mark chided"Look, Mark, either lead, follow or get the hell out of the way.""I think I like this power bitch thing you got going on. It's quite a turn on.""Well, turn it off."She was almost there just feet from the doorway. When she slammed right into Hemingway. It looked like something out of a silent movie. Paper bags, briefcases, Coach bags, glasses all seem to fly in mid air.
"I look like the morning after Rohypnol" she said aloud looking at the dark mascara'd circles under her eyes."Hemm..."."Hey, babe. What's for breakfast?" Huh? Tiffany did a double take and then a mental head slap.It wasn't Hemingway as she had first thought. Through scrunched eyes she had a total recall.It was frickin' Mark Finnegan."Oh, snap!" She hid partly behind the open bathroom door and caressed the side of it, flushed and thinking of what to say."Oh, snap!?? Are you that dissapointed?"She ran her hand through her hair and stopped midway. "Ummm. Mark, listen..." He stops her and gently grabs both her arms as though she were a manikin on Saks. "Tiffany. It's okay. It's more than okay, it was grrrrreat!""Ugh," She thought.I was like a breakfast cereal?"Mark, I gotta go. I just gotta get ready.""Relax, babe. Just get ready and I'll get us a cab. You've got some time." He throws her her stockings from the floor.
On the way down in the elevator, the door opens and in walks Hemingway. He is holding a brown lunch bag and briefcase. Tiffany adjusted her over sized sunglasses and looked down at the floor in search of the trap door. Shoot, they are always there in cartoons. Aren't they.What the hell happened last night. Her mind was like Swiss cheese."Seems we're both running behind schedule, huh?" she rasped, her throat still scratchy."Uh, huh yeah." Hemingway nervously sputtered.When the elevator door opened Hemingway skittered out like a bat out of hell."What's with the weasel?" Mark cracked"Dunno, I was hoping you could shed a little light on that." Tiffany pondered aloud."Babe, let's go play."" Mark I can't play hooky, Hello, my first day?"Cutting class on the first day of being a grown-up would not sit well with her father, the Honorable Judge Ashton Thorne. She did not want to sit through yet another priorities, responsibilities and expectations meeting. Otherwise known as the PRE beatdown.
The fact of the matter was that Tiffany was 25 years old and other than being a Thorne she had accomplished very little, thus far. This gave her the occasional twinge of guilt. Unfortunately, those twinges were coming closer together. It was time for her to give birth. To her own life.
Finnegan pulled her close and pressed her hard into his body."Babe, I'm so hungry" he growled"And horny, too." Tiffany could help but notice another source of hunger. Mark was a good friend. A friend with benefits. A friend she hadn't seen but pined for, for months.Although the relationship between Tiffany and Mark had been tumultuous they worked in perfect harmony between the sheets. Mark had been a NYC fireman until an injury at a suspicious fire cut short his hero days. The events of that career ending day have never really been fully figured out.He was now an arson investigator for the city and somehow right smack dab in Tiffany's life again.
Chapter Two
The sky was overcast and the first pelts of a spring rain started to fall on the city streets. Mark looked fierce as he hailed one of the taxi cabs with his tall arm. In a moment they were slumped close together in the back of the cab staring out at the usual traffic jam, and the rain hitting the windshield. Tiffany looked at her watch and leaned her head back and sighed. With her head still pounding, last night started to come back to her. Poor Hemmingway. He had tried so hard to impress her, she could tell. His rosy cheeked boyish charm. The proud look on his face when they entered Morton's, anxious to be seen by the big dogs with Tiffany on his arm. Or at the very least trailing skeptically behind. Flash forward to the end of the night on their walk home together when Mark side swiped her at the doorway to their building. "Excuse me, but do I know you?" He tickled her side and she jumped. "Mark! Hi!" She was drunk. He spoke close into her ear. "I have been waiting like a little puppy at your step for over an hour. Where have you been my lady?". He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Hemmingway stood back and watched. He had looked pathetically small and desperate. Seeing that he was being overshadowed by Mark, who towered over him in strength, he said his goodbyes to Tiffany who barely noticed. "Shall I see you safe to your palace, my lady?" And with those words, Hemmingway was gone. Mark nodded to Stal the doorman, his arm around Tiffany and they had made their way to the elevator.
Chapter 3
The traffic was unusually bad this morning."What's the hold up" Tiffany impatiently demanded through the partition."De firebug. Traffic is backed up like de mother. All da way I can do nuthin" the cabby complained.Tiffany craned her neck out to look out of the windshield. Gray smoke was visible through the breaks in the skyline. The firebug strikes again. Still at large in Gotham. The firebug is a serial arsonist who has found a very unique and public outlet for his bitterness toward prominent local young woman. So far his building count is 3. Body count 0 or 1 if you include cats."What next. Whaaat next." Tiffany moaned" I got your back Tiff, should I write you a tardy note? I'm good at tardy. ""Yeah, I'll say." Tiffany countered dryly, unamused and anxious."Stop here. Stop here" Tiffany pounded on the partition."Would you just chill out a little." scolded Mark"Look, we can walk from here."Tiffany paid the fare and blasted through the sidewalk throng like Lindsay Lohan at a sample sale."Whoa little lady, you got a license for those heels?" Mark chided"Look, Mark, either lead, follow or get the hell out of the way.""I think I like this power bitch thing you got going on. It's quite a turn on.""Well, turn it off."She was almost there just feet from the doorway. When she slammed right into Hemingway. It looked like something out of a silent movie. Paper bags, briefcases, Coach bags, glasses all seem to fly in mid air.
"I'm s- so sorry, Tiffany." Hemmingway stuttered.
"Lemme help you" as Hemingway reached for her Coach bag he grazed her boob.
"S-sorry" He blushed. Tiffany couldn't help but be embarrassed for him. Whatever he did just seemed to make matters worse.
"Thanks, Hemmingway." Tiffany consoled brushing his arm. Finally Mark caught up to the sidewalk yard sale, with coffees in hand.Hemingway slid off.
"Who was that? You seemed awfully chummy. Does Freckles have a boyfriend?". Ugh, Freckles. She hadn't heard that in years. Mark, among others used to tease her with that nickname on the playground at St. Bernadette's.
"It's just Hemingway, you know- the weasel." Mark didn't hear. He was busy chanting "Freckles got a boyfriend."
"Look. Mark, I'll call you later. In the mean time could you dial down the asshole a skotch."
"What exactly is a skotch, Tiff?"
"I don't know Mark. look it up." Tiffany made her way into the building and Mark watched her as she disappeared through the revolving doors, safely. Although he didn't show it he was concerned for her safety. He was afraid of her being the firebugs next target. Worse yet, his first victim.
Chapter 4
"Ms. Thorne", a loud unstable voice called behind her. She stopped and turned to a mousy looking girl in a rose colored cardigan sweater. She had square black glasses that were a stark contrast against her pale face. Her bangs were pinned to one side with a clip.
"Hi!" Tiffany smiled warmly and looked at her inquiringly. She was well aware it could have been her in that assistant position if it weren't for her father.
"I'm Amber. Can I give you this file?" She pushed her glasses up on her nose. "Sorry, I tried to catch you, but you are pretty quick!"
Tiffany looked down at the thick army green file. "Sure. I guess, thanks!" she laughed. They both stood there as Tiffany pretended to know what it was.
"It's for Mr. Dewey. It was on my calendar to pull it for the meeting. But since you are going, I figured you could take it in" She looked sheepish and pleading.
Right. Mr. Dewey. The Meeting.
"No problem, will do!" Tiffany reaffirmed.
"I just hate to walk in there when everyone is in there sometimes" Amber whispered.
The meeting turned out to be a large mass of suits speckled with white shirts and colorful ties around a board room table. They all turned from Mr. Dewey as she walked in. All eyes were on her. She moved her auburn hair behind her ear and took a seat, nodding to the suits, and handing Mr. Dewey the green file.
"Hello, Ms. Thorne. Welcome. Everyone this is Tiffany Thorne. She is a fresh face and but very acquainted with the biz. She'll be assisting us as our newest paralegal." .
Tiffany looked down at the thick army green file. "Sure. I guess, thanks!" she laughed. They both stood there as Tiffany pretended to know what it was.
"It's for Mr. Dewey. It was on my calendar to pull it for the meeting. But since you are going, I figured you could take it in" She looked sheepish and pleading.
Right. Mr. Dewey. The Meeting.
"No problem, will do!" Tiffany reaffirmed.
"I just hate to walk in there when everyone is in there sometimes" Amber whispered.
The meeting turned out to be a large mass of suits speckled with white shirts and colorful ties around a board room table. They all turned from Mr. Dewey as she walked in. All eyes were on her. She moved her auburn hair behind her ear and took a seat, nodding to the suits, and handing Mr. Dewey the green file.
"Hello, Ms. Thorne. Welcome. Everyone this is Tiffany Thorne. She is a fresh face and but very acquainted with the biz. She'll be assisting us as our newest paralegal." .
"Ms. Thornes father is the Honorable Judge Thorne"
There was a murmur but Tiffany pretended not to notice. The thing about being a Thorne is that you are a Thorne. 24/7. You are subjected to hushed whispers, every one's opinion and worst of all the rumours. She learned how to listen and filter at the same time at an early age.Did you know she hangs out with Paris Hilton? Actually, it was just once and it was at a homeless benefit. Tiffany wore her panties. Just for the record. Did you know her Daddy got her this job? Yes, but, she had to do the job. She'll stick around till lunch and then get bored and leave.Tempting but no. Something about this position and the vibe of the office felt right. Like she was where she belonged.Tiffany still had some unfinished business with Hemingway. Namely what transpired several hours ago. She thought a gentle inquisition during lunch would be just the ticket. She wandered down the halls feeling perfectly at home with the dark mahogany wainscoting.She cut her teeth in these hallowed halls which would explain her good vibes and complete ease with the fat cats. She slipped into Hemingway's office, knocking first, but then catching him completely off guard."Tiffany, hey, how's it going so far." he said shuffling papers chaotically."Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in." "S'quite alright, Tiffany. I was just, y'know, working." "God he's adorable" Tiffany thought. He's just so uncoordinated and goofy. Oddly, Tiffany found that charming. So childlike."I was wondering if you wanted to join me for my "first day" lunch?""Uh, I brought my lunch today. Tuna.""Oh, I think we can do better than that. C'mon it's Daddy's treat!"
Chapter 5
Hemmingway crooked his arm for her to take as they started to walk down the long hall toward the elevator. She gave him a sideways glance and he shrugged, straightening his arm. "Oh, wait...." He held up his finger. "Can you wait just.. one second? I forgot something." And off he went, practically running back to his office. She sighed deeply and almost regretted asking him to lunch. Moments later he came back grinning and out of breath. "What'd you do?" she asked."He fiddled with the back of his foot. "My pedometer." He semi panted. In the rush of the morning, he had forgotten to put it on.
"Even though it will only be half a days steps." He said. Unbelievable, Tiffany thought.
The elevator sailed down to the lobby and dinged open.They inched past the throng of people attempting to step in the elevator. The lobby was spacious and the marble floor murdered her feet some more. She felt him cup his hand in the hollow of her back and lead her to the revolving doors. "Hem, I wanted to talk to you about last night" She stepped into the revolving door and it led her into the street. He attempted to step in next but lost his coordination and it went around twice before he could join her on the sidewalk. She laughed. "That door hates me" he declared. They both laughed."We'll just walk." Tiffany said. "Does Hanks deli sound good to you?""Surrrre. Why not." It was a dive of a deli but it was clean and they had healthy food. They stepped up into the store and made their way to the counter. Hemmingway decided to linger around the snack aisle while Tiffany waited to order. She noticed him pull a bag of circus peanuts off a hook. He listened to her order."I will have the turkey and avocado on the whole wheat pita, please." "Hey, Hem, what are you getting?" She called to him.Hemmingway sauntered up to the counter with his find. "Nothing, I'm just gonna stick with the tuna.""Tuna and Circus peanuts" she jibed him, "Very impressive." Her hand clutched the edge of the counter as she tapped her fingers absentmindedly. He stared deep into her blue eyes trying to create a moment that wasn't there. She stared right back and noticed he was doing that dumb thing with his mouth. He always did it. Sucking both his lips in, like he hadn't any teeth, like an old man. She looked away. "Here you go, Ma'am'. Anything else?" Tiffany paid for her sandwich, drink, and his circus peanuts. "It's the least I can do since last night and all" She said it jokingly but half meant it."Oh, that's okay." They stepped back out into the busy lunch time crowd and lingered for a moment while Tiffany opened her diet Pepsi and they walked. "Shall we find a bench to sit?"Hemmingway agreed and they found one one block down. She followed him for a moment and took note of his cute little tush. But visions of his mother ironing his tidy whiteys quickly replaced that thought. She felt like a big sister all of a sudden. "I wanted to talk to you about last night." She started softly. " Morton's and the drinks and how the night ended...."Hemmingway listened and nodded looking down at his bag of circus peanuts he cupped in his hand. He rested his arms on his thighs, and his hair fell down over his face. He should be a model Tiffany thought. "It's OK." He shrugged. "It is what it is, it wasn't a big deal " She looked at him trying to read him. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea, what with my friend Mark, you know" Really she wanted him to know she wasn't easy."No worries" Hemmingway said, stuffing several orange Circus Peanuts in his mouth. Tiffany couldn't help but crack up. He looked sideways at her with his bulging cheek stuffed with candy and held up the bag. He muffled "Wan's summ?" Surely there was no one else on earth like him.
"I can only take so many, ech!"He made a face and tossed them into the garbage can they sat next to.
"I'm just glad you got home ok, Tiff", he said with a resignation as he got up and wiped his hands on his pants. He smiled.Tiffany guessed the conversation on that matter had finished. She got up too and felt a little better but still wasn't completely happy with the closure on the situation. Why did he have to make it so easy? She wanted him to open up more about his feelings. To call her out. She almost felt guilty. It was very possible that she was edging him on to keep him interested. It felt good to be admired by Hemmingway. He was gorgeous. And just boyish enough to appear unjaded and teachable. He would be a good catch. Oh, why did he not have that bit of sophistication that was needed to make her feel not just like the girl next door, but like a woman. Even if she literally was, granted just a few floors up in the high rise building, the girl next door. She had always toyed with the idea of getting to know Hemmingway in that way. For years. Maybe it was going to happen sooner than later. If it just wasn't for Mark! Mark had a way of making her into a silly school girl even if it was mostly between the sheets. As long as Mark was around, Hemmingway would never have a chance.
"So where'd you get that goofy name Hemmingway anyway?" She gave him another sideways glance but the lunchtime crowd of people on the sidewalk made it difficult to look at him.
"It's actually Elias. Elias Hemingway," he said. "
People just call me Hemingway, it's okay though.
"What do you want to be called?"
"I haven't really though about it. Either one's fine"
Tiffany was trying to maintain eye contact with Elias but that was no easy task. She was starting to get seasick from all of the darting around.
"Are you nervous, Elias"?
"Nah, I just kinda, y'know, am not so good at this."
"Good at what? Talking to me?" Tiffany felt flattered
"We're friends, right, Elias?"Elias paused and maintained eye contact with Tiffany for a few seconds. A millennium for him. His eyes were blue and the shape of his eyebrows gave him a sorrowful look. Tiffany felt a very motherly around him. She just wanted to shelter him.Just then her cellphone rang."Freckles got a boyfriend" was being crooned into her ear, lounge lizard style."
"Enough, Sinatra." Tiffany heckled "Where are you?" she said swiveling her head around.
"Right across the street."Tiffany squinted through the midday throng and traffic caught sight of Finnegan in a burned out apartment building and waved. He was at the sifting through the ashes of the firebugs handiwork.
"So how 's the first day of being a grown up?" he asked.
"We'll I'm sharing lunch with my friend Elias, how bad can that be?" she said proudly looking at her lunch date, winking. Elias felt patronized. Like a special needs little brother.He crumpled his paper bag and collected his belongings. He was no longer the focus of her attention and really had no interest in playing second fiddle to who was on her phone.
"See you Tiffany", he murmured. Tiffany gave him the "wait a minute sign" and he dutifully waited a second but then blended into the crowd and disappeared, un-noticed.
When Tiffany returned to her desk, her red message light was blinking on her phone. She sat down and plunked her purse down in front of her to take her phone out again and sighed. "How did my phone get shut off?" she grumbled. She dialed her father. It went to voice mail. She tried dialing her mother who answered immediatley. "Hey, mom". Her face went white. Two seconds later she was flying out of the building, Hemmingway calling out to her. "Tifanny!" She didn't even take the elevator down, but the stairs. He ran after her and called down the stair well. "Are you okay?" His voice echoed and she didn't answer.
Chapter 6
"I understand this is a very hard time for you Tiffany. You know you can have as long as you need." Mr Dewey stood in front of his mahogany desk with his hands clasped in front of him. He reached for a tissue and handed Tiffany a tissue. That was the meeting, short and sweet. And with a handshake from her wet cried upon hand, she left the lawform of Dewey, Cheatem and Howe. On the way into the elevator, Amber came trotting up to her with the little cactus plant that had been placed on her desk as a welcome gift her first day. Her only day."Don't forget this" She smiled.
"Oh, thanks." Tiffany said. But then thought better and laughed.
"Why don't you keep it. It's a cute little thing." But Amber pushed it right back.
"Really, I have about 6 already on my window sill. I don't think I'd have the heart to kill one more. Oops! I mean, oh, I'm sorry!" She grimaced.
"That's OK Amber". She felt an air of humanity rush through her. And even though she wasn't a hugger, she hugged Amber goodbye anyway. Amber skittered away back down the hall into someones office with the cactus and came back out carrying a stack of files in one hand and a cactus in the other. Poor girl.
Tiffany had decided that even before she left Mr. Deweys office, she wasn't going back. She was well taken care of. Her trust fund was inexhaustable it seemed. And now, well, it really didn't matter whether she went back to work what with what all was in the will. The firm was giving her all the time she needed but without her father, it just wasn't the same working there. She couldn't. She wanted nothing to do with anything lawyerly right now. She would call Mr. Dewey later on that week and let him know. Right now she just wanted to sleep for days.
Chapter 7
Tiffany unlocked her door and flung her purse on the console table. She looked at her face in the mirror. A Thorne through and through is what everyone would say when they first set eyes on her. She had her Daddy's green eyes, smile and freckles.Tiffany stood there for a moment, staring in the mirror. Her reflection morphing into a series of flashbacks of her childhood. Happy carefree summers spent in Hamptons. Christmas time spent in Aspen. A good life. Her Dad made sure of that. The flood of memories soon yielded to a flood of tears. Tiffany retreated to her bedroom and sat on her bed, head cupped in her hands and mourned for her Daddy. She collapsed, exhausted from grief, onto her pillow and fell into a deep sleep.
"Hello?" She sat up in bed with sweaty limbs and squinting eyes.
"Hi, Mom. Mmmhm. Yeah.... I was sleeping.....I went today but I'm not going back. Yeah, I'm OK. The Valium really put me out. " She fell back into the pillow.
"I know, I only took one. Thank you for it. I'm not sure if I'm going to take another one, not now anyway.I've slept the day away. I will. I'll call you tommorow.....I love you, too"She hung up and stared at the ceiling. The city lights from below created different shades of grey in the room. The room needed air. She felt clammy and crept over to the door and slid it open creating an instant freshness to the atmosphere. Her face was hit with the soft breeze and familiar smell of the city. Tiffany leaned over the balcony and let her arms, head and hair drape over the edge like a drunk woman. She followed the urban scene below as the edge of the balcony pressed beneath her chin. Tiny cars and taxis, the red tailights breaking in the night. The high pitch sound of a bus and it's faint sputter of exhaust. Impatient honking. She grew up in this beautiful mess of a city. A slithering sensation fell across her neck and an object dropped into the streets below. She watched it float down into the traffic. Her hair clip had come undone. "Oops" she mumbled. "Another one bites the dust". She pushed off the railing with effort and stumbled through patio furniture and back into the high ceiling bedroom. The fan high above her circulated in the shadows. Except for the slept in bed, everthing was neat and impeccable. Leaving the bedroom she looked up to the dark brown wooden cross hung high above her bed. Her mother and father had brougt it back from Morocco last summer. A wave of hurt went through her again.
The white light of the fridge made a triangle shape across the kitchen floor as Tifffany peeked inside.
"I have got to go shopping." There was barely anything in there. Green bottles of Perrier. It was just as well since there was no hunger at all. In fact, she had lost weight, her clothes were draping off of her. She stood there like a stork, her foot resting on her other long leg. There was only a dish of tortilla wraps that Hemmingways mother had brought up a few days earlier. She decided on another old vice. She ran her hand above the fridge and then opened and closed some drawers searching for cigarettes. Ordinarily she didn't smoke. But tonight she just didn't care. After sifting through a couple packs of cards, a bottle opener and take out menus in one drawer, she found a pack of Marlboro Lights with a couple left and lit one up. She leaned on her elbows on the kitchen island and inhaled deeply like she was at some swanky bar. It made her wish she had a beer.
The last few days Tiffany had been some help in sorting out miscellaneous affairs. But thankfully, her Dad had more than made sure that proper preparations were arranged years ago should something like this ever happen. The hard part was going to be going through his personal belongings. Relatives kept telling Rozz, her mother not to rush it. Not to even attempt to tackle "that". To just "be" for the moment. And one day, the time would come when it would just happen that she would walk into his study and start cleaning up. But for the moment, just "be." They liked to talk in quotes a lot and in hushed tones. Making little rabbit signs with their fingers. Everything was quotes. Even she had started to do it but stopped herself completely when she caught herself doing it over the most trivial things. It looked so stupid.
At the wake, there was much talk. "Dead of a heart attack at 65! Tsk,tsk, " one relative said. "Heart disease doesn't run in our family, how can this be?" Aunt Rebeccah asked Rozz quizically. A colleauge of her father chimed in "Did you notice any symptoms or signs? " "What about medication, did he have high cholesterol?" Questions and more questions. Heartless!"You know what?" Tiffany said, stepping in front of her mother shielding her,
"Sometimes things just happen!". They stood there in stunned silence. Sometimes people didn't know when to shut up.
Honorable Judge Ashton Thorne had fainted while on the bench. They had rushed in an ambulance, but he never had a chance the doctors said. He didn't feel a thing. It was all over the news. The past week had been one big blur. Her Dad's wake and funeral. Family and friends came from all different directions.Thankfully, her brother was done with his semester of college and had a few days break. He stayed with Rozz a few days but after that, it would be just her and Tiffany. Her mom's fragile state was almost too much for Tiffany to handle. It was too painful to watch her walk around in agony. And how do you comfort someone who doesn't like hugs yet is a bottomless pit of pain and neediness. They were never a very affectionate family. Almost inhibited when it came to demonstrating kisses and hugs to eachother. So if they weren't talking, well, the awquard silence was just too much to bear. But she was there if Rozz needed her. Rozz knew that. "You go on, dear," She patted her shoulder."You're just a phone call away, I know." Tiffany assured her that of course she was. Then her mom dissappeared into her bedroom and brought her back some Valium
Chapter 8
Mark Finnegan was a happy Irish lad. There wasn't anything that could really make him unruffled. He always seemed to have a smile on his face. Laughing or sarcasm seemed to be his M.O. His hair fell over one of his eyes which he usually left there, and if you talked to him, he had a tendency to cock his head slightly and bite his bottom lip. He was extremely irresistable. Years of being a firefighter kept him in shape. His shoulders were strong and his arms muscular and defined. His pecs were prominent and smooth. This evening he sat on top of his sheets in his bedroom sipping a corona. He wore boxer briefs and a gold chain around his neck. He stared at the set with interest. CNN was holding a press conference on the latest findings of the Fire Bugs most recent work. Mark already knew all about it. It was his report that was being relayed to the reporters. He did the dirty work. Like a crime scene investigator but for Arson. . He knew the smell of a smoldering fire well. The past few months, this fire bugs vendetta against prominent high powered business women, namely in the legal field had kept him running from site to site. Until recently, it was mostly business. He knew the routine. Sift through burned sites and find evidence, clues. Report back to the boss. The first time the fire bug struck, the victim happened to be a cat. Mark shook his head in disgust as he eyed the charred cat, barely recognizable in the corner, still steaming. He almost lost his cookies. The two story building where the first floor law office was had a tenant who lived in it's second floor who was away at work when it happened. "Tough break fella" Mark murmured as he leaned over what was left of the cat, slightly wincing.
After that, there was a series of burnings on the outskirts of town. But this last one that had occured was what set the media and everyone spinning out of control. The firebug struck a law office mid day intending to engulf the building in one strong woosh. In his ignorance he forgot it was a holiday and struck while only a young secretary was in the office. He pushed her into a back room and taped her mouth. By the time the fire was discovered, it was too late. Smoke inhalation had gotten to her, but Mark knew that was just something said to soften the blow to an anguished family.
Now on full alert,Mark was up and running every day. Waiting for the next strike. Trying to gather clues and discover a pattern so this maniac, this so called Fire Bug could be stopped.
Chapter 9
Tiffany sat curled up behind her father’s desk, in his big leather chair. It’s massive size seemed to swallow her whole. No matter how big she got she never seemed to take up any more space in it. She recalled the times that she used to crawl up into her daddy’s lap and just nuzzle her face in his cotton oxfords while running her hand along the sleeve of his cashmere cardigan. He would give her butterscotch candy and an occasional coffee nip. For her, this was safest place in the world.She was now, back in her father’s study to claim anything that she wanted before the estate sale. It had been day she was dreading. It was decided that the Thornton property in the city was to be put up for sale. Tiffany’s mother could no longer take living in the city, too many memories, and decided to take up permanent residence at the Thornton property in Boca Raton. The decision was really no surprise, even when her husband was still alive, Tiffany’s mother would often complain about living under the constant scrutiny of the city’s social elite. She was tired of playing the game. She wanted out, here was her ticket.Tiffany was going to miss the sanctuary of her father’s study. The warm mahogany walls held many a memory for her. Like the time she braved the chicken pox, sleeping for hours on her father’s lap. He ended up catching them from her, breaking out right in the middle of a trial. And then there was the time she was caught ,sloppy drunk, with Mark and Kevin Finnegan after having raided the liquor cabinet, by her father who returned home, a day early from the Hamptons. Most recently the study was the venue for the famous Priorities, Responsibilities and Expectations beat downs.The memories sent a rush of tears down Tiffany’s face. She never got to say goodbye. Everything , like her own personal life, was left unfinished. She was now on her own to sort it out. Tiffany grabbed the cashmere cardigan, that hung on the back of the chair, and just buried her face into it. The scent of her father. Was it possible to inhale someone back into being from the scent alone? Tiffany closed her eyes and wished hard.She padded over to the liquor cabinet, stashed a bottle of Oban scotch into her Coach bag and put the cardigan over her shoulders, she dumped a handful of butterscotch candies into it‘s pockets. This was all she wanted. This was all she needed
Posts
