Chapter Three: Naomi

Damn it. What had I gotten myself into? Shuya was a leech. I knew that. I couldn't even remember what I'd seen in him in the first place anymore. He'd probably had some kind of criminal charm to draw me in. I realize this. So... Why wasn't I plotting how to cut my losses and kick him out when I got home?

"Naomi?"

My heart thudded against my ribcage in alarm as I jerked upright, almost spilling the hot chocolate that I'd neglected and let linger – and cool – in my right hand. Great. Now Tom had seen me dressed like a bum and in mid-meltdown, all in one crappy day. And from the hesitant drag he'd given my name, he knew it, too.

"Are you alright?" The expression behind the thin-rimmed glasses was concerned... And maybe a little alarmed at how I had reacted. Overreacted, I mean.

I felt heat flare up to the tips of my ears. Tom was hardly scary. In fact, so far he'd been one of the kindest, fairest men I had met. And here I was, acting scared of him? I had to admit, that made me feel like a royal bitch. As much as I didn't care for swearing, the term was accurate at the moment.

"Tom," I was glad I sounded as embarrassed as I felt. The smile on my lips felt awkward and shaky, but I held it. "You startled me, sorry." I lifted the cup to my lips and took a drink, waiting for my face to cool down. "Do you need something? He didn't rack up another debt already, did he? Or are you here to tell me I need to replace a wall in my apartment or something?" I hesitated, lowering the cup and adding, "If I do, I hope you took pictures of what happened, because I wholeheartedly feel he deserved it. And I would want to see it. It'd be better than cable right about now."

It was Tom's turn to look a little startled. He gave a surprised laugh, resting his hand on the back of the chair across from me. "No, nothing like that. We left right behind you, apartment and deadbeat intact. You just... You looked upset. I wanted to check and make sure you were alright."

Alriiight, maybe I don't get to stop blushing. "I'm okay... Thank you." I gave him a smile that I hope was as grateful as I felt. "I was just so annoyed. I've never been in debt in my whole life. I don't understand how he can do that, have no job and just gamble all of his money away." I shook my head, looking down into my cup at the dark, still steaming liquid inside. "I mean, sure, sometimes he does win. But most of the time he loses. Loses big time. And..." I hesitated, glancing back up at Tom.

The silence apparently spoke volumes to him, because he tilted his head and slowly pulled the chair out. "Can I sit?"

I bit my lip to hide my awkward smile. "Sure, I don't mind. Suit yourself."

Tom nodded and sat down, propped his chin on his hand and looked across the table at me. "There's more to that story. Trust me, I'm familiar enough with it by now to know. Tell me? Maybe it'll make you feel better, to let someone else know."

I felt my heart flutter in my chest. Swallowing hard, I ducked my head again. Weird. I hadn't felt something like that since I was in high school.

"It probably would be a story you hear a lot, wouldn't it? And... I don't have any proof yet, I'm just worried... That he might be getting in debt to other people besides your boss..."

I didn't need to finish that sentence for him to understand. His jaw set and he added it himself. "The Yakuza."

I nodded. "And that... Well, it scares me. I don't like to think of what the Yakuza would do if they came to my door, but even without imagining it, I know they wouldn't be anywhere near as polite as you and Shizuo are about collecting."

Tom looked a little perturbed by the idea himself. "You're right about that one... Though you might be the first person to actually call Shizuo and myself polite."

I shrugged. "You've never done anything wrong by me. I blame the idiots that try to run for the reputation you guys have. And they deserve whatever they get. You're doing your jobs, which is a lot more than I'm sure half of them are doing."

I could have sworn I saw a blush tint Tom's cheeks, but it was faint and the waning sunlight cast his face partially in shadow. "Thanks," he said. "But seriously... You should confront him about this, if you're worried. Or dump him. A girl like you? He doesn't deserve you. You should leave him in the gutter where he belongs."

"I know I should. I tried to get up the nerve to dump him when he pulled that stunt the last time you guys came around, but..." I shook my head. "I couldn't do it. Just... Couldn't bring myself to." That I could speak this lucidly while ignoring the things Tom's statement of he doesn't deserve you did to my heart. God, I was like a school girl with a crush.

Was I?

"I-I know I should dump him. If this keeps up, I am going to. It's just... Not as easy to do as you think. I don't know why." I rubbed my temples with my free hand. "Thank you for listening to this, Tom. I'm sure you have better things to do." I felt a wry smile on my lips. "I didn't mean to bellyache like that. It annoyed me, so I can only imagine how it sounded."

"I didn't mind listening," Tom replied simply, giving me a look of rather intense scrutiny before dipping a hand in a pocket of his suit, coming up with a handkerchief. I blinked. I hadn't even noticed I was crying. I accepted it sheepishly and dabbed at my eyes, buffing the tears away before handing it back, and he stuffed it back in his pocket, waving off my thanks. "It wasn't a problem. I wanted to be sure you're okay... So," he pulled my napkin across the table toward himself, coming back out of his pocket with a pen, scrawling his number down on the flimsy white paper and sliding it back to me. "If any of that does happen, and you need help... Call me, alright?"

My heart immediately jumped into my throat and I felt my eyes widen a little. For a moment, all I really did was stare at the napkin and how his fingertips lingered in the far edge, waiting for me to accept it. Okay... I was pretty sure this answered my question as to whether I was a school girl with a crush. I was a teacher with a school girl's crush. Go figure, I'd thought I was too old to fall for that noble prince figure.

Who was I kidding? That was a big part of the attraction. Tom was good looking, sure, but, for me, it was more important that he seemed so... Honest, kind, polite, and clean. Some part of me knew that I needed a hard working, decent guy, exactly the opposite of what I had waiting for me at home, and I liked what I saw in Tom. I felt like I could breathe around him.

Hesitantly, I took the napkin, and he lifted his fingers to let me slide it away from him.

"Thanks again, Tom... I'll do that." I got up and neatly tucked the napkin into the pocket of my jeans. Before I lost my nerve, I reached over and briefly rested my free hand on top of his on the table. It was nothing more than a light touch, seconds long, but it had my stomach fluttering nervously. "You were not made for this line of work you're in."

With that, I turned and walked off, headed back to my apartment, all the while acutely aware of the man I was walking away from. It was insane, I hadn't been this self conscious in years. I hoped, as I melted into the crowd, that he would take what I had said well. After all, all I had intended was that... He was a sweetheart. He wasn't suited for a job where you practically had to beat your paycheck out of people. Granted, he did what he had to, I imagined, but... It didn't suit him.

It wasn't until I was unlocking my front door that I remembered my abandoned drink at the diner. Huh. Well, there went another drop in the bucket. Here's hoping Tom had enjoyed it before he left.

After all, inadvertently buying him hot chocolate on a cool day was the least I could do. After all, for an hour, he'd let me feel a little free again.

And could anyone put a price on that?