Chapter 11
"But, don't you find it just a bit too easy?"
"Hmm?" asks Beth absentmindedly, continuing chop onions for her chicken casserole with practised efficiency.
"Wouldn't you rather just a tiny bit more excitement?" Annie continues, "You know, just a smidge of that delicious adrenaline rush that hits after we've risked life and limb for a paycheque?"
"Really, Annie?" Beth asks, her tone laden with long-suffering exasperation, but deep down she knows exactly what Annie's getting at.
"I mean, it's not like I need Narcos-level excitement every time I do a job, but cash lodgements?! What a complete waste of my talent!"
Laughing at her sister's withering tone, Beth's reply is heavy on the sarcasm as she says, "Okay, so why not tell Rio this job is beneath you? Just do me a favour and make sure I'm there to see it."
Turning away to continue with the dinner prep at the stove, the smile slides from her face as she tries to direct her attention somewhere – anywhere – other than him.
It's Thursday and she hasn't spoken to Rio since his departure from her house, well over two weeks ago now.
Which is good, she reminds herself; this is exactly what I wanted.
But, while a part of her is revelling in the peace created by his absence from her life, another part is drawn irresistibly back to those fleeting moments they had shared; the quick teasing, the unexpected laughter, and the shockingly intimate sex.
And she misses it, all of it.
She misses him.
Biting her lip, she prods at the chicken with excessive force and tries to banish all traces of Rio from her mind.
Facing Annie once more, she sees the knowing, sympathetic look on her sister's face and clamps down more tightly on her wayward thoughts.
"How's Sadie getting on at school?" she asks brightly, determined to steer the conversation back to solid ground.
Beth is shocked to see that Annie suddenly appears to be blinking back happy tears, as she casts her eyes around for the kids and then drops her voice to say, "I've been dying to tell you our big news, it's not Sadie anymore; it's Ben!"
Immediately understanding the significance, Beth is swallowing back the lump in her throat as she rushes around the counter to wrap her sister in a tight hug.
"Oh, Annie, I am so proud of him!"
"I know," chokes out Annie, "Me too." Her tears are flowing freely now and she brushes them away with a startled laugh as she says, "I've never been more proud. My baby!"
The room is quiet for a moment, heavy with the weight of their emotion, as they squeeze each other a little tighter, overjoyed that Ben has finally found his voice.
And, deeper down, terrified too - that the world might try to stifle it.
"You know," says Beth thickly, easing backwards and wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron, "I was a little distracted when you guys came in earlier, I'm going to go say a proper hello to Ben."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The following day, Beth is cradling the phone against her ear as she continues to work through the emails on the screen in front of her, waiting for Gabe to pick up.
"Morning Beth, are we all set for lunch at 1?"
"That was what I was calling about actually," she tells him, "Spectrum Health just cancelled – something unavoidable cropped up."
"Damn," he swears softly. They have been in negotiations with the hospital group for months now, regarding an exclusive contract to source nursing staff, and this lunch had been set as a forerunner to final agreement on the terms.
There's a brief pause, and then he asks, "Have you cancelled the reservation at Nobu?"
"No," replies Beth, "I'm just about to call them."
"Good, but no need to cancel. You hungry?"
"Starving," Beth admits readily, blushing softly as the sound of his appreciative laughter echoes down the line.
"Great, just make it a table for two."
They take his car, and the journey across the city passes in surprising ease. The conversation centres mainly around work, but, as they enter the restaurant, Gabe is asking her about her family, and Beth relaxes further into his company as she attempts to describe life with her four rascals.
At the office, she has to make a point to not bring up her children as often as she'd like to; most of her colleagues aren't parents themselves and she doesn't want to widen the already evident gap between her life experience and theirs.
Shrugging out of her suit jacket as the waiter shows them to their table, she regales Gabe with tales of the havoc wreaked by her little tribe, surprised to see the genuine interest and amusement in his face as he listens.
As they finish off their main course, Beth is describing the big scene from last week, when she had been called into the Principal's office to collect the fugitive that had been smuggled into school in a lunchbox; Dora, Emma's hamster.
Leaning forward animatedly in her chair, she tries to stifle a giggle as she recalls the hamster's dramatic discovery, which took place when one of Emma's school friends had tried to thieve her cheese straw and ended up running screaming from the room.
"Maybe that was the whole point, you know?" she laughs breathlessly, "To stop the thief in their tracks? Not that there was much food left in there by that stage!"
Gabe's laughter mingles with her own, and Beth can't help thinking how good it feels to share a meal and easy conversation with an adult male, even if he is her boss.
"Well, isn't this cosy?"
Rio's deep drawl crashes over Beth like a physical force and, just like that, the peace is shattered.
Watching Gabe's face breaking into an easy, welcoming smile, Beth's own lips freeze in place. Turning towards Rio, she does her best to appear unaffected as the rich scent of his cologne teases her senses and ignites a rush of heated memories.
He's completely underdressed for the restaurant, in his black jeans and soft t-shirt that hugs his torso, and yet he looks perfectly at home.
There's a brief, tense moment as their eyes meet – a flash of unnamed intensity – and then he's turning away with customary composure to embrace Gabe, who has stood up to greet him.
Completely blanking on the exchange taking place beside her, Beth takes a measured sip of water in a vain attempt to calm the heavy thud of her heart against her ribcage; cursing Rio's perpetual ability to wreak havoc on her equilibrium.
"I finally had reason to check out your recommendation, bro," Gabe is saying now, "And, I have to say, you were right about this place; the food's fantastic!"
Rio's nodding in response, his tone sardonic as he murmurs, "Only the best for our girl, huh?"
Waiting for Gabe to correct him – to explain that this is nothing more than a cancelled lunch meeting – Beth is surprised when Gabe just smiles and asks, "Do you want to join us?"
"Nah, man, another time; I was actually just leavin'," Rio replies, and Beth could almost faint with relief.
"Besides," he continues, speaking directly to her now, "I wouldn't want to go interrupting whatever this-" he gestures to their table, "Is. Business? Pleasure? It's so difficult to keep those two things straight."
Holding his eye as the echoes of their last conversation hang in the air between them, Beth is silent, defiant; damned if he's going to get even a hint of discomfort, or an answer, from her.
Finally breaking contact – abruptly, deliberately – Rio's smile is tight as he gives Gabe's shoulder a light slap in parting and continues on his way towards the front of the restaurant.
Releasing a pent up breath, Beth darts a furtive glance across the table at Gabe, to gauge his reaction. Had Rio's parting shot sounded as loaded to him as he had intended it to be?
She's surprised to see that Gabe's easy smile has now been replaced by a look altogether more serious, worried even, his eyes openly questioning as he waits for her to speak.
Cursing the colour that she can feel rising to her cheeks beneath his scrutiny, Beth clears her throat and starts in a rush, "I'm sorry about–"
"You don't have to apologise to me for Rio," he interrupts, his comment loaded with a wealth of shared history, evidently not all of it good.
While Beth processes this, Gabe asks casually, "How did you say you know him again?"
Knowing full well she never has.
Meeting the challenge in his gaze, she tilts her chin subconsciously and decides to give him the unvarnished truth.
"I robbed him."
Gabe chokes on a laugh and Beth's lips are twitching in response as she explains in a rush, "Not intentionally, but that was an insignificant detail where Rio was concerned."
"I can imagine it would be," he replies smoothly, voice laden with suppressed amusement.
Grinning, Beth's own curiosity finally gets the better of her and she asks boldly, "So how do you know him?"
And his answer is definitely not what she's expecting.
"He's married to my sister."
Blinking in stunned silence, she considers this, considers the fact that here is someone who truly knows Rio – or Christopher, whoever the hell he is – and there are a million questions clamouring for her attention, just begging to be asked.
But she has too much pride to expose herself like that, the reveal any more of the dysfunction surrounding her relationship with Rio; professional or otherwise.
Taking another measured sip of water, she aims for a neutral tone as she says lightly, "You know, I think I saw her once, a couple of weeks ago, at the bar we were all at for Sophia's birthday."
And Gabe is nodding, explaining why he hadn't joined them that evening, and then the conversation moves on – towards the neutral territory of the office, and Beth can only hope that she doesn't seem half as flustered by Rio's appearance as she feels.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dean has agreed to Beth keeping the kids for the weekend and the too-short days pass in a familiar flurry of activity. Now that most of her weekends are spent in a sometimes paralysing excess of free time, Beth savours the moments with her little ones in a way that she hasn't consciously done for what must be years.
The further away she gets from the monotony of her predictable life with Dean, the more clearly she can see how passive she had become – despite her apparently busy existence. And the more obvious it becomes that, although she sometimes misses the companionship, and the more traditional family life for her children, she does not miss her husband.
If only the same could be said of a certain other man in her life.
Or not in my life, she corrects herself.
Sighing as she dresses for work on Wednesday, paying the usual extra attention to her appearance ahead of today's cash lodgement, Beth tries and fails to block all thoughts of Rio from her mind; Rio taking her on the bed, in the shower, bending her over the kitchen island, that one time on top of the counter in the laundry room…
It's become a bit of an unconscious habit – her mind wandering in only one direction at any given opportunity – and despite the increased frequency of her solo attempts to sate her building frustration, she can barely take the edge off.
She feels like a horny teenager and can fully appreciate that this would be totally comical if it wasn't so damn irritating.
But, if she's completely honest with herself, the familiar frustration of wanting Rio is nothing compared to the newfound pain of needing him.
And so, when it must, she lets her mind wander to that beautiful body of his, to the many sinful ways he's made her come apart at the seams – riding waves of pleasure too perfect to bear – and, in doing so, she steers clear of the void that deepened through each interaction with him; a void that grows still.
Arriving at the office an hour later, Beth calls a bright "Good morning!" to Gabe, as she passes him in the corridor, and is gratified to see the genuine warmth in his answering smile. There's a new familiarity between them now, an understanding that wasn't there before, and, not for the first time, she wishes he could be the somewhat-less-complicated object of her desires. But, although he appears to be as close to the full package as any woman could want, she can't muster up more than an objective appreciation of his charisma and striking good looks.
Musing on this as she logs in at her desk, her mind casts back to the scene at the restaurant on Friday; to Rio questioning the nature of her lunch with Gabe in that suggestive way of his.
She's actually a little surprised that he hasn't followed up on that chance encounter – hasn't showed up at her home or at work – to really drive home what a hypocrite he must think she is, but there's been no sign of him.
Reminding herself that this is a good thing, and that she's glad his interest in her is as transient as she always suspected, she consciously pulls herself back to the present and the many emails awaiting her attention.
Later that day as she walks into the bank, Beth bites back a smile as she remembers Annie's vehement distaste for the job. Of course, she totally gets, it is boring, and each encounter with Mr Wilson is so predictable it's as if they are reading from a script. But, while it's not as exciting as some of the other dealings that they've found themselves involved in over the last number of months, it's also a hell of a lot more civilised.
She's early for her meeting, much earlier than she had intended, and, of course Mr Wilson has not yet come down to meet her. Deciding to use the time to withdraw some cash from the ATM, she completes the transaction and slips the notes into her wallet as she drifts over to the brochure display on mortgage options. Although she and Dean have managed to stay on top of the repayments thus far, she's only a paycheque or two away from the red, and knows she has to be realistic about the possibility that they'll have to downsize.
Slipping a brochure into her bag, she checks her watch again and notes that there's still twenty minutes to waste, so she heads out of the reception area and down the corridor to the restroom.
Inside, she applies another light layer of powder to her face and tucks away a stray lock of hair. It's getting harder to ignore the delicate lines bracketing her eyes and mouth, or the shallow groves that run across her forehead, but she's thankful that they don't bother her as much as they used to. Giving her reflection one last glance, she gathers up her briefcase and pushes blindly back out into the corridor, stopping herself just short of crashing head-first into a suit a moment later.
Belatedly recognising the suit as Mr Wilson, who has taken hold of her arms to steady her, Beth is about to utter an embarrassed apology when he exclaims in surprise, "Mrs Boland!"
An icy chill shivers down her spine and Beth freezes in place, her shock mirrored in the wide flare of Mr Wilson's eyes, as she considers the implications.
How the hell does he know her name?!
Straightening to remove his hands from her, Mr Wilson swallows delicately and stammers, "Um, I mean, Mrs Cleaver, of course…"
Not waiting for him to finish, Beth shakes herself free and sweeps past him; briefcase clutched tightly in her suddenly sweaty palm, heart an erratic tattoo in her chest.
Erupting into the cool air outside, she has to check the impulse to run for her car, expecting at any moment for a hard voice or rough hands to pull her back inside.
Then she's reaching the vehicle, wrenching the door open and pulling out from the parking lot before she even has her seatbelt on. Wrestling with it a few tense minutes later, she can't help glancing again and again in the rear-view mirror, sure that at any moment she's going to see the tell-tale flash of blue lights. But so far – nothing.
Eyeing the briefcase on the passenger seat beside her, the one filled with $100k in cash, Beth has the crazy urge to pull over and dump it at the next opportunity. But, knowing she has to call this in, she pulls her phone from her purse and dials Rio without hesitation.
"We have a problem," she states, before he's said a word, and she knows there'll no missing the anxiety in her voice.
There's silence on the line and then he's asking carefully, "Do you have it?"
Glancing at the briefcase beside her, Beth answers, "Yes."
"Where are you?"
"I'm…" she trails off and glances around trying to orient herself. She's been driving on autopilot for the past ten minutes and is relieved to see that this route is actually familiar. "I'm headed for the office."
"Are you alone?"
Glancing again in the rear-view, she replies honestly, "I think so, but I can't be sure."
"Okay. Go to that bar near your work – the one I saw you in a couple of weeks back – and bring the briefcase."
Without further preamble, the line goes dead.
Feeling some of the tension ease slightly, now that there's a clear next step, Beth focuses solely on her destination and successfully tunes out the mass of worried thoughts circling endlessly around her mind.
Entering the almost empty bar half an hour later, a sharp stab of disappointment darts through her when she sees that it's one of Rio's guys waiting for her at the bar; not Rio. The tension, which had continued to ebb over the journey here, immediately begins to build anew, and Beth has to clamp down on the fiery anger that roars to life alongside it.
Before she can reach him, Rio's guy is getting up to head for the bathroom, and it's obvious from the glance he shoots her that he wants her to follow.
Once inside, he doesn't waste time on pleasantries and instead he gestures to the briefcase she's holding, "It's all there?"
At her nod he takes it from her and make swift work of transferring the neat bundles of notes into the open duffle bag beside him.
Knowing better than to ask questions he's not going to answer, Beth watches in silence.
When he's done, he simply hands her back the empty case and leaves.
Walking back out to the bar, Beth is about to follow him out and try to continue with her day when she finds herself pulling out a stool and ordering a bourbon on the rocks. Shrugging out of her suit jacket, she lays it across her lap and waits for the barman to return with her drink. She knows she doesn't really have time for this, that she needs to get back in her car and back on track for the school run, but knows too that without it she might just give in to the mild hysteria clawing at her.
"Relax, Elizabeth."
The husky tones of Rio's voice are a balm for her frayed nerves and she nearly closes her eyes in relief.
Instead, she rounds on him angrily, and hisses, "He knows my name, Rio."
Taking a stool at the bar to her left, he considers this and nods his understanding, "Uh huh."
Beth's drink arrives and she knocks back half the contents in one searing gulp.
"What does this mean?" she asks urgently, and the fear that's been hovering in the recesses of her mind slams to the fore when he answers.
"Nothin' good."
"What does that mean?"
"Look, take a breath, yeah? You don't got to worry about it, I'll handle it. If there are any problems comin' your way, I'll let you know."
Seeing that she's about to protest, he looks pointedly around and says, "This ain't the place, sweetheart."
He's right, of course he's right, but that only fuels her irritation with him.
"Then what are you doing here?" she asks tartly.
He purses his lips and shakes his head dismissively, but his crooked, rueful smile reveals that she's hit on the right question.
Breath catching silently in her throat, she tries to process the fact that this is what he's here for; her. To tell her to relax, take a breath; he'll handle it.
She called and he came. Just like she'd hoped he would.
Fuck.
Now she's at a total loss for words, inwardly cursing the weakness in her that looks to this man first for support in a crisis. And yeah; it's his world, his business, his problem.
But it's also so much more than that.
Cheeks heating softly as this realisation strikes her, she averts her eyes to take another, smaller sip of her drink. Glancing at her phone, she checks the time for second time in five minutes. If she's going to make the school pick-up, and with a straight head, she really needs to leave now. Even though there's a part of her, a stronger part than she'd like to admit, urging her to text Annie and ask her to cover, just this once, so that she can stay here, in this moment, with him.
"Go, Momma," Rio murmurs beside her, "You don't wanna be late."
Surprised by this show of uncharacteristic perception, Beth nods, her cheeks heating further; hoping with every fibre of her being that Rio's powers of deduction are limited to the obvious, and don't extend to the reason for her hesitation.
Slipping back into her suit jacket and picking up the empty briefcase, she aims for an impersonal tone as she says brusquely, "Thanks, Rio, for handling this. And I'd really appreciate an update when you have one."
Nodding once in acknowledgement, if not actual agreement, Rio merely smiles, his intense, dark gaze tracking her every move as she heads for the door.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"So, any word from lover boy?" queries Ruby, waggling her eyebrow suggestively and grinning, as she settles back comfortably on Beth's sofa.
It's Friday night and, although Annie's running late, they're just kicking off girls' night with a chilled glass of white.
Despite Ruby's playful tone, Beth knows she's asking about the situation at the bank and sighs.
"Not yet, and it's been over a week so I'm not holding my breath."
But, one way or another, she intends to find out exactly how much information Mr Wilson has on her and what he intends to do with it.
It would just be so much easier if Rio would just tell her directly.
"Worst case scenario, the Feds are involved," she muses, "But that fact that I'm still here suggests that they're not. Then again, that's also the only really plausible explanation so I'm not sure what to think."
A newly familiar anxiety twists through her, and she sighs tiredly, trying to smother it beneath a cool mouthful of wine.
Watching her with a gnawing worry of her own, Ruby nods and changes track to say delicately, "So, I have to ask, what are things like between you two, now that you're not, you know–?"
It's not anxiety causing the wrench in her gut this time, and Beth takes another measured sip of wine before replying, "It's… different. In a kind of unexpected way. I mean, every time I think I know what to expect from him, I realise that I don't really know him at all."
There's a sudden, mortifying haze blurring the edges of her vision and Beth buries her gaze in her glass, almost jumping out of her seat in her haste to get up a moment later, when Annie can be heard cursing harshly outside. It's a wet evening and evidently she can't get the keys in the door quickly enough.
Pulling the door open from the inside, Beth stands quickly back as Annie spills into the hallway and continues on into the front room, closing the curtains with jerky movements before she comes to a stop in front of the couch.
Peering at her in confusion, Beth notices that Annie appears pale and unusually subdued.
Is she actually wringing her hands?
Ruby glances at Annie, then Beth, then back to Annie. "What's going on?" she asks sharply.
"You know that kid?" Annie asks Beth, who has followed her into the front room, "The one that delivers the cash?"
Beth nods and she continues, "Well, he also sells weed, and we were sharing a joint on my lunch-break today and he told me that some serious shit's been going down in gang-land."
A pause, and then she emphasises, "Like, Narcos-level shit!"
Pulse beginning to pound in apprehension, Beth asks quietly, "What happened, Annie?"
Turning away, Annie begins to pace back and forth, starting to babble as she continues, "I guess it's true what they say, you know? Tomorrow's not guaranteed for any of us. And this is what he signed up for, right? The job does come with certain health risks…"
There's a distant buzzing in Beth's ears as she listens, ice forming in her veins. "Who, Annie?"
But Annie's merely continues with her disjointed monologue.
"Apparently he was actually a really decent guy. And maybe this is what he would have wanted, you know? Live by the sword, die by the sword, and all that–
"WHO DIED, ANNIE?"
Beth's outburst echoes loudly in the quiet house and stops Annie in her tracks.
"I don't think we know him," Annie finally offers, "A guy called Max?"
Turning away to close her eyes briefly against the onslaught of emotion that's flooding through her, Beth is simultaneously horrified and, shamefully, immensely relieved.
Circling back to face the room, she looks between the shocked faces of her best friend and sister and says quietly, "I met him a couple of times," before asking again, "So, what happened?"
"Brian was sketchy on the detail, but it was something about another gang that's been sniffing around, trying to move in on Rio's territory."
Nodding, Beth picks up her wine and takes a large gulp, trying to ignore the tight fist around her heart as she imagines what this loss might mean to Rio.
She's still battling with this thought hours later as she drifts off to sleep. Ruby and Annie have finally gone home, after hours of debating possible gang-land war scenarios, and Beth is bone-tired.
A sharp knock on the French doors of her bedroom has her sitting bolt upright and reaching for the loaded gun on the bedside locker. Slipping silently from the bed, she approaches the curtains and inches the material aside with the barrel of her gun.
It's pitch dark outside and the howling wind is whipping sheets of rain against the glass, distorting her view.
But she's recognise that hooded figure anywhere.
Lowering the gun, she unlocks the door and pushes it slightly open, waiting for him to speak.
When he does, his voice sounds raw; vulnerable in a way she's never heard before, as he asks roughly, "Can I come in?"