Page 8 of Mister Fixit


  “I would.” It’s all he says, but I know what he means. He likes me.

  It would be a mistake to keep flirting with him when the romantic flow is so one-sided. I sigh really long and open the menu.

  “Oh no.”

  I look up at him. “What’s the matter?”

  He’s looking at his menu too. “I don’t like the sound of that sigh.”

  I shake my head. “Ignore me. I’m having a bad week.”

  “Next week will be better,” he says with confidence.

  “Says who? You?”

  “It’s all just a state of mind,” he says.

  “Is that so?” It makes me kind of cranky to have someone who I recognize as at least fairly intelligent act like my life is something I can just decide is awesome and it will be. Nothing I say to myself in front of the mirror is going to change what Robinson did or what Jeremy and James did either. I wish it could be that easy.

  “Sure. Don’t you believe that?” He looks serious.

  “Some things are not under my control, and those things can really be awful. The power of positive thinking or whatever you’re talking about isn’t going to change any of that.”

  He shrugs and goes back to his menu. “Everything is in your control. I can teach you about it later, but right now, I need your help.” He’s frowning at the menu.

  I ignore his offer of help because I’m quite sure a plumber does not have a magic wand he can wave over my life and fix everything wrong with it. Instead, I focus on his request.

  “Help? With what?”

  “Please tell me what mushroom kaboocha ravioli and salsify kale is.”

  I locate the menu item he’s talking about, sure I’ll be able to help him, and then frown. That’s really all it says.

  “Is salsify kale a type of kale or are they salsifying the kale?” he asks.

  “I have no idea.” I laugh, shaking my head. “What is up with these restaurants trying to trick us into eating kale anyway?”

  He drops his menu to the table and gestures at me. “Thank you.”

  “What?” I look up, mystified.

  He leans in and whispers. “If you’d ordered kale for dinner, I was never going to call you again.”

  Now I can’t stop laughing. “Really? But what if I wanted to hire you as my plumber?” My smile cramps are back.

  He shakes his head. “I would have turned you down. A man has to draw the line somewhere.”

  “And you draw it at kale-eaters?”

  “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

  I lower my menu to the table and give him the sly-eye. “I sense a story here.”

  He smiles and picks up his menu, shrugging as if he’s ready to play hard to get. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  THERE’S NO TIME FOR US to share our secrets at the table. The servers are there bringing us appetizers, wine, food, coffee, and then the bill. Conversation during the first course turns to the estimate he gave me, and he goes over it, line by line, explaining the whys and wherefores of the whole thing. By the time we get to our coffee, I completely understand every single bit of work he thinks should be done, and I’m absolutely convinced he’s the man for the job.

  “You’re hired,” I say as the cab pulls up in front of my apartment. “In case you hadn’t figure that out yet.”

  He turns to me and smiles, holding out a hand to shake.

  I take it in my gloved hand and smile back. “See you next week?”

  “Sure. But I could come up for a drink now if you want.”

  I lean in and kiss him on the cheek. “Not this time. Maybe some other night.”

  He kisses me too, and the shadow of his beard lightly grazes my cheek as he pulls away, leaving a shiver to follow behind. I’m seriously tempted to invite him up, but know in my heart it would be a mistake. I’m too much of an emotional wreck to handle good sex right now. Or bad sex for that matter, but I don’t think he’s capable of the bad kind. He’s been too on-the-money all night for that. He’s proven himself to be thoughtful, creative, funny, sexy, smart, and downright nice. I’m sure the sex would be amazing.

  I frown as I’m opening the back door, turning to face him for just one more question. “Why exactly are you single again?” I ask.

  He smiles, but the expression’s not as easy to come as the others he’s shared tonight. “Everyone has a story. Maybe someday I’ll tell you mine.”

  “Deal.” I leave him at the curb and watch the cab as it drives away. I sigh when I realize that I probably should have invited him up. I have no reason to lock myself away like a nun. It’s not like I have other prospects out there waiting for me. It seems like I can’t make a decent decision to save my life.

  “There you are,” says a voice from behind me.

  I spin around at the familiar tone, my good mood dissipating into the freezing night air.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand to know, pissed and not hiding it.

  Robinson is standing there in a wool overcoat, steam from his breath floating around his face.

  “Are you following me?” My voice has a hysterical edge to it. I just can’t handle the fact that I had a nice evening with a great guy and then here he is to screw it all up, right before I’m going to go to sleep. Now, thanks to him, I’m probably going to have nightmares about Cassie being stolen away when I might have managed a sexy dream with Jake as the star actor.

  “No, of course not. I stopped by to see if I could talk you into going out for a drink with me.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and just stare at him.

  “What?” he asks, innocently as if he doesn’t know what I’m thinking — the same thing anyone in my shoes would be thinking about him just stopping by after I’ve told him to go to hell.

  “I’m just trying to figure out if you really are that clueless.”

  “I think we already discussed the status of my clue-having before, didn’t we?”

  “Oh shut up.” I walk briskly toward the door to my building.

  “Does that mean you don’t want to get a drink?”

  “Not with you.” I punch in the code to unlock the door. Dammit, why didn’t I invite Jake up? That would have been awesome, letting Robinson see that. Maybe then he’d finally leave me alone.

  “And not with that guy who just dropped you off, I guess.”

  I spin around and glare at him. “Stay out of my business.”

  “I can’t, Jana, I’m worried about you.”

  “Yes, you most certainly can.” I yank the door open and stand there blocking his way. “You’re not coming in.”

  “Not even for a cup of coffee?”

  “No!” I can’t believe the nerve of him. Since when has Robinson been so bull-headed anyway? I don’t remember him being anything but amenable in the past.

  “I have some news for you. About Cassie.”

  My arm slips from the door and my face falls. “Oh, so you’re the go-between now? Between Jeremy and me? My own brother doesn’t even want to talk to me about the baby I raised for him for almost an entire year?” Tears take the place of indignation, but I can’t help it. It’s like another knife’s been shoved between my shoulder blades.

  “No, no, nothing like that. I said that wrong. Please don’t think that. It has nothing to do with me being a go-between.”

  I’m back to being angry. “You’re making no sense, Robinson. I think you need to leave.”

  “It’s because I’m exhausted. I’ve been up all night for a week. I haven’t slept at all. I can’t get our last conversation out of my head.”

  “Then the last thing you need is coffee.” I step into the foyer and try to shut the door.

  He moves up and puts his foot in the way. “Please? Can I just come up for a couple minutes? I promise I’ll leave when you want me to.”

  I look down at his foot. “Why do I find that so hard to believe, I wonder?”

  He pulls his foot
back and stares at me, pleading with his expression.

  I let the door shut and talk to him through the glass. “Go home, Rob. I have nothing left to say to you.”

  “Is he your new boyfriend?” he asks as I’m turning around.

  I pause, turning back to look at him. “Who?”

  “That guy in the cab.”

  I point at his face through the glass. “You sound like a stalker. Cut it out.”

  He holds up his hands and backs up. “I know. That’s terrible. I take it back. I’m sorry. I’m just… I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.” He drops his head and turns away, walking down the sidewalk away from my building.

  I stand in the foyer and chew my lip. I should just let him go, I know that. But this isn’t just some guy. This is Robinson. I wanted to deny it before when he staked his claim, but he wasn’t lying or just wishful thinking when he said he’s one of the family. He’s been to every Thanksgiving, Easter, and Christmas dinner we’ve had since he was eighteen years old. I grew up thinking I had three big brothers, one of whom I had a very unhealthy crush on. He’s helped James out of I don’t know how many issues that have cropped up with his medical practice and the inevitable liabilities that come with rearranging people’s faces. And when he told me about Cassie, about why he did what he did giving her back to Jeremy, there was that tiny, niggling thought in the back of my head that he was right about one thing: if I ever have a daughter and then can’t care for her, no way in hell will I just walk away and let her temporary caregiver keep her when I’m better again. Nothing else he said made sense to me, but that did. My heart spasms painfully at the thought that I’ll never see Robinson again, that he’ll listen to me when I tell him to stay the hell away forever.

  I push through the door and run down the street after him.

  “Robinson! Wait!”

  A cab two blocks ahead pulls away from the curb, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke behind it. It’s quickly swallowed up by all the other cabs swarming over the streets of Manhattan, leaving the sidewalk empty. I slow to a walk and then stop when I realize that Robinson is in the backseat, and the cab’s brake lights aren’t going on.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS FLY by, and I’m happy for all the distraction my house renovation is providing. I haven’t moved into my new place yet, but I can see it happening in another week or two. Jake doesn’t disappoint either. He shows up on time with three guys working for him, and they go to town on my plumbing without stopping except for lunch, every day. They eat on the job site and then go right back to work until six o’clock, poking holes in walls, running pipes, soldering, and God knows what else. I just try to stay out of their way.

  I keep expecting Robinson to call me and explain himself or apologize, but my cell phone remains free of his number popping up. Leah calls me daily to see how everything’s going and to find out how I’m feeling. James called once and left me a message, but I haven’t called him back. I don’t know how much Robinson is sharing with him right now, but I don’t want to have to apologize to him for my behavior. I’m not ready to admit I’ve done anything wrong. So what if Robinson’s feelings were hurt? He deserves it. My moment of weakness as he drove away was easy to understand. He’d looked so pitiful. But after I had a good night’s sleep, I realized it doesn’t matter how pitiful he looks; he’s not the man for me. Not anymore.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Jake says from off to the side.

  I turn to look at him and smile, walking over to wipe the black smudge from his cheek.

  “I’ve got schmutz?” he asks, taking a rag out of his pocket and swiping it across his cheek.

  “Yeah. You had schmutz, but I got you covered.”

  “Thanks, you’re a pal.”

  I feel kind of bad about the pal moniker, but he’s right. We are pals. It makes me even more curious about why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Does he have a problem with other women finding him adorable in an older brother kind of way?

  “Doing anything fun this weekend?” I ask casually.

  He leans back and barks out a laugh.

  My face goes a little red. “What? Did I say something funny?”

  “You’re using my moves on me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

  I throw a piece of bent wire at him that’s sitting randomly on my counter. “Shut up, I was just being friendly.”

  He leans on the counter. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He readjusts his expression. “Yes, in fact, I am doing something fun this weekend.”

  “Oh, really?” I nod, acting like we’re just having a conversation. “And what might that be?”

  “Well, a friend of mine and I are planning on going to Central Park to throw a frisbee around.”

  My eyebrows go up. “Isn’t it a little cold to be throwing a frisbee around in the park?”

  He shrugs. “No snow. We’re tough.”

  I smile all evil-like. “So I know your friend is either a guy or a dog.”

  He chuckles. “Or a hardcore chick who doesn’t mind freezing her buns off to spend the day with me.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Would you like to join us?” He bites his lip for a second and I have to laugh.

  “Oh, man, you’re bad.”

  “What?” he acts all innocent when we both know he’s not.

  “Now I’m screwed.”

  “How so?” He takes a step toward me.

  “Because. Unless I ask for details, I could be accepting an invitation to a doggy frisbee throwing date or a sexy threesome.”

  “Hmm… a threesome?”

  I gesture out into the room. “Yeah, your friend could be an electrician or that hardcore chick you mentioned.”

  “Sounds kinky,” he says, stopping just next to me.

  I look up at him and his sparkling green eyes. “Do you have a dog?” I’m trying really hard not to smile.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And does he like to play frisbee in the park?”

  “Yes, he does. He’s a border collie and he lives to play.”

  “Why don’t you bring him to work with you?”

  “Because he prefers to stay home with my wife.”

  My heart drops into my stomach and I stare at him as the blood leaves my face.

  He smiles. “I’m just kidding. I’m not married.”

  I punch him right in the stomach, and he doubles over as the air whooshes out of him.

  “Holy shit,” he grunts out. “You pack a hell of a punch.”

  “Oh my god,” I say, laughing, still incredulous over his answer and the fact that I just gut-punched him.

  Who does that? Who socks her sub-contractor in the belly? I haven’t done it to anyone but my brothers, and the last time I did it was probably ten years ago. But my plumber? Seriously?

  He puts his hand on the counter and tries to stand, but he stops partway and just looks at me. “Totally got what I deserved.”

  “Yes, you did.” I fold my arms over my chest and try like hell to control my reaction. I should not laugh at physically assaulting the man who still hasn’t finished plumbing my house.

  “But at least now I know you were hoping I’m single.”

  I shake my head. “You really need to get professional help.”

  “How about I just come over to your place, lie on your couch, and tell you all my problems?”

  “When?” I ask, ready to take his challenge and meet him head on.

  “Tonight.”

  I shrug, moving out of the kitchen to go back to my dry wall repair. “Fine. See you at eight.”

  “I’ll bring dinner!” he shouts from the kitchen.

  I cross the creaky floorboards to the master bedroom. “Indian!” I shout back.

  “You got it!”

  I smile for the next hour as I picture playing therapist to the hottest plumber in Manhattan. I only lose that smile when I imagine Robinson showing up outside my door and spooking the guy off.

  I tak
e out my cell and send him a text, just to be sure. I don’t even think twice about doing it. He has some kind of crazy radar that goes off anytime I’m with another guy.

  I hope you don’t plan on any more dropbys. I’m allowed to have a life without you in it, you know.

  He doesn’t answer, and I stew over it all day long and straight into the evening. Ten minutes before Jake is scheduled to arrive at my apartment, I sneak downstairs and look out the doors of my building, fully expecting Robinson to be hiding in the shadows. But he’s not there, and the street looks totally empty, save for the cabs that drive by from time to time and slow when they see me standing there. I walk back into my elevator, for some reason feeling very alone. Why didn’t he text me back? Is he really that over me that he can ignore my instructions not to bother me? I feel like I’m in high school again, playing teenage games. Maybe tonight I should lie on the couch and tell Jake all my problems instead of the other way around.

  I send a text to my brother James as I ride the elevator back up to my apartment. When I’m in the hallway it goes out.

  Is Rob okay? Haven’t heard from him in a while.

  Two minutes later, I get a response.

  Better to just leave it alone.

  My heart crumbles in on itself, and I feel the insane urge to bawl like a baby. Stepping into my apartment, I slam the door behind me. I guess everyone knows what a horrible bitch I am now. Even my own brother is telling me to stay away, as if I’m the one who’s the bad influence.

  Why is my own family against me? I’m not the one who did anything wrong. If anything, I’m the only one who did anything right. James was hardly there when Cassie was born. I had to practically force him to take her overnight, and he only did it because he felt guilty. After that, it was Leah who always offered. So why do I feel so horrible about Robinson being okay with staying away and my brother telling me to back off? It was my idea, for chrissake. Ugh, I hate being this confused inside my own head.

  The buzzer goes off in the front entrance of my apartment, distracting me from my inner rant. I go over and press the button.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s your friendly neighborhood plumber, here for intensive couch therapy.”