Chapter Two
"Heard you had a new roommate," Lily commented, breezing into Jordan's office to drop off some files.
"Gee, can't a girl keep anything secret around here?" Jordan replied, trying her best not to look flustered and irritated by the comment. Bad news travels fast, she thought. She realized when she had impulsively told Woody he could move in with her that "other people" might get the wrong idea. But she had hoped she would have a few days to prepare a story, or at least get the truth in some semblance of order, so as to quash any romantic ideas her co-workers might hatch about her and the young detective.
No such luck. Lily was grinning at her like the Cheshire cat and her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Look, Lils, nothing is going on. Woody's old building went co-op and he couldn't afford the buy-in right now. He needed a place to stay for a little while until he could find a new apartment. I have plenty of room at my dad's and I do owe the man a few favors…"
"Favors?" Lily asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. Woody's simply my roommate until he can find a new place."
"Wish I had a roommate that was that gorgeous and tall. Lucky girl."
"Lily, my relationship with Woody is not like that. We're friends. Good friends. And we want to keep it that way."
"Yeah, right."
"Lily," Jordan said, with a warning edge in her voice.
"Know what I think, Jordan?" Lily replied, totally ignoring the other woman's agitation. Lily had worked with Jordan long enough to know when she really needed to back off. Now wasn't the time.
"What Lily?"
"I think you both need to stop fighting the attraction between the two of you. You have a great opportunity right now to explore the possibilities without the prying eyes of the rest of the morgue staff or the Boston PD looking on. It could be nice, you know….Sunday morning, reading the paper together in bed…."
"Lily. That is so not going to happen."
"You never know. And if you don't at least give it a shot, you may kick yourself for not trying later on."
"Really?"
"Really. Remember the deep funk you fell into when he started seeing Devan?" And with that Lily knew to stop. She set the files down on Jordan's desk and left, shutting the door behind her.
Jordan picked up the files and flipped through them. One case was closed and the body could be signed out to go to the funeral home. Another family was coming in this afternoon to make a positive identification. Another's trace work needed to be sent to the CDC….what was the guy's name again? Jordan was trying to fill out the appropriate paperwork, but her mind wasn't on it. Finally throwing down her pen in frustration, she sat back in her chair. Explore the possibilities….. Lily said. Or you may kick yourself for not trying later on.
Would she? Would she regret it? Truth was, she wasn't sure exactly how Woody felt about her now. Or even if she was ready to begin a relationship with anyone. She closed her eyes. The other truth was that she had never really contemplated a relationship with anyone other than Woody.
But he was her friend. A good friend. And she had kept the relationship strictly friendship for both of their own good. At first, shebelieved she was protecting him from her. She had thought him a country bumpkin from Wisconsin for so long. A farm boy. Her farm boy, but a naïve young man, just the same. But he had changed. The years in Boston had given him an edge of sophistication and the hours at the gym had given him a body she could no longer ignore. Or wanted to. He was definitely a man now.
However, the years that had been so good to him had been as equally hard on her. Physically, she hadn't changed much, unless you wanted to count the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She worked long hours at the morgue and filled in at the Pogue, often making a 65-70 hour work week for the young ME. But there had been more going on for her emotionally. Her dad, her sole surviving family member, left Boston and had been gone over a year now with no word. The birthday present she had mailed him had been returned, stamped with an invalid address sticker.
The Pogue was draining her dry financially. She had given up her apartment to save money…and moved back into her father's home. She had laid off employees, filling in the gaps they left herself, all in an effort to keep the bar afloat for her father, so that when he returned home, he would have something to keep him in Boston. God knows, she wasn't enough anymore.
She wasn't sure she was enough for anyone. Which brought her back to Woody. She had long ago stopped protecting him from her. She didn't have enough left in her at the end of the day to hurt anyone…she just had enough energy to make it home and stumble up the stairs and hit the bed. Then get up in the morning and do it all over again. No, now she was protecting herself. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting a relationship with her on any level right now. A relationship with a man required a lot of give and take. And she had precious little left to give. And most men wanted to take.
She never imagined that Woody would want to be on the giving end of things.
She wasn't home.
Not that it was any of his business. What Jordan did when she got off of work was strictly up to her. He had no claim on her and she didn't on him, either. They were just roommates.
But as the clock downstairs chimed one in the morning and she still hadn't come home, Woody couldn't help but worry. The Pogue closed at midnight during the week. When did she normally return home? He tossed and turned in his bed, wondering. And worrying just a little. In the past, when he had gone to the bar, he would occasionally help her close, not getting away until around 12:30 himself.
However, he knew that there were fewer people around to help her shut down the bar now.
Was there anybody left to help her at all? Please, dear God, don't tell me she's there by herself, at this late of an hour, closing the bar, in that part of Boston," he thought as he listened to the clock then chime two.
Then he heard her key in the lock and the front door softly open and close. The quiet patter on the stairs told him she was tiptoeing to try to keep from waking him up. Two. Two in the morning. The woman was coming in at 2 a.m. by herself. How long had this been going on?
And why didn't he know about it?
He rolled over and tried to go to sleep. He knew being her roommate would mean dealing platonically with the many temptations that would come his way. He knew he would have to learn to cope with a myriad of emotions.
He didn't know feeling so damned responsible for her was one of them.
