Designed Intent

Chapter 16

Saturday Night

"I didn't bring anything to wear to the theatre," Bobby said, as they were getting ready to go.

"Dearheart, this is university theatre. Appropriate attire is jeans and a sweater. You are just fine."

Gleason pulled off the sweatshirt she had been wearing, folded it and set it on the bed. She turned and Bobby embraced her, saying, "Do you know how much I love you?"

She ran her hands up his back, under his tee shirt and then dragged her nails slowly, gently down. He squirmed and shut his eyes. "Does that feel good?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. She did it again. "Here, turn around," Gleason told him. He turned and she lifted up the back of his shirt and ran her hands and finger nails all over. Bobby scrunched up his shoulders and moaned in ecstasy. "Oh, that feels so good," he groaned.

Gleason stroked Bobby's broad back. His skin was milky white, the color of a city boy who wears a suit everyday. She felt the thick layer of toned muscle under his skin. He radiated strength. She smiled at the faint spray of freckles over his right shoulder.

"Dearheart, I'm making red lines on your back. I should stop." Gleason kissed his shoulder blade and licked lightly before she removed her hands.

"Oh, that feels good. Thank you." He turned and grabbed her with a smile, "Now, answer my question, do you know how much I love you?"

She looked up at him and said, "I have a pretty good idea." They kissed softly and then continued to dress.

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Bobby spotted Malcolm in the surprisingly large crowd that filled the theatre lobby. He was standing with a short woman with long, dark hair. Goddamn, Bobby thought, we cannot get away from him. Bobby embraced Gleason and turned her so her back was to the other couple. She looked up at him and smiled. He kissed her forehead and kept his eyes on the professor.

Malcolm spotted Bobby embracing Gleason, looking straight at him. The men locked eyes across the lobby; neither wanted to look away first. Bobby watched as Malcolm bent his head and said something to the woman.

"Do you want anything? Something to drink?" Malcolm asked his wife. She glanced up at him and shook her head. Maeve did not know what to make of this. What am I doing, she asked herself, we are separated; we should not be out together. Maeve still loved Malcolm, though. She was hoping his decision to leave her was just a midlife crisis, that he would come to his senses and come back home, love her again, be a real father to Angus. "I'm going to the men's room. I'll be right back." Maeve smiled and nodded.

Bobby watched the man move toward the restroom and said to Gleason, "Wait right here for me. I'm going to the restroom. Wait here, ok?"

Gleason looked up, smiled and nodded. Bobby bent down and kissed her quickly.

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Bobby stood beside Malcolm at the next urinal. They were literally engaged in a pissing contest.

"I want you to leave her alone. Understand?"

Malcolm said nothing.

"I don't want you at her apartment. I don't want you to ask her out. I don't want you to send her flowers. Don't call her. I want you to leave her alone."

Malcolm zipped up and flushed. He turned to Bobby and said, "Detective, Gleason and I are colleagues. We work closely together. Occasionally we need to work together outside university hours. Perhaps you should be talking to Gleason about 'what you want.'"

Bobby finished, zipped and flushed. He could have killed the man right there, right then; the smug son of a bitch.

"Just leave her alone."

Malcolm went to the sink and washed his hands. Bobby followed and did the same. As he dried his hands, Malcolm grinned at Bobby in the mirror and said, "Have a good flight back to New York." The professor tossed the paper towel into the bin, turned and walked out. Bobby's gut burned.

Gleason smiled as she watched Bobby's head move above most of the others in the lobby. Her smile faded when she saw the dark look on his face.

"We should find our seats. Come on," he said putting his arm around her.

The usher showed them to their place and Bobby took her right hand in his left. Throughout the entire day, Bobby had touched Gleason in one way or another. His arm was around her, his hand on her neck, on her back, on her leg, holding her hand, at every moment he had hold of her.

Gleason noticed the change in his mood. She looked up at him, "Is everything all right?" she asked him. "Did you get a call from work?"

Bobby's head tilted to the left, hesitated and then said, "No. Everything is fine." She had not seen Malcolm.

They sat quietly, she looking at the people, he thinking over everything what had transpired in the men's room. The lights dimmed and they settled in.

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Sunday Evening

They were quiet as Bobby packed his bag. He did not want to leave. This weekend went by so fast. It had been wonderful, after the awful start; as it was in New York, when she lived there with him.

Gleason watched him fold then stuff his shirt into the bag. He stuffed everything in the bag and zipped it shut. He took her in his arms and held her. They rocked slowly.

"I love you, Gleason," he said into her head.

"I love you, Dearheart, forever," she returned.

He pulled away and said, "I need to get a cab."

"I'll take you," Gleason replied.

"No, I don't want you driving that far at night. Where can we get the number for a cab company?"

"I'll call the Hilton. Antonio or Loomis or someone will get us the number."

Gleason made the call while Bobby stood at the kitchen sink and stared out the window. She hung up and said, "It will be here in twenty minutes." She crossed to him and hugged him from around the back. She leaned against him, his hands on her forearms.

"What do you have planned for this week?" she asked him.

He turned and held her around the waist. "More of the same -- missing you, wanting you, thinking about you, loving you. . ."

She smiled and said, "We shall speak everyday, like we have. I will be home next weekend. It won't be too bad; I shall be home in five days."

He hugged her to him and said, "I know. I just miss seeing you everyday. I miss making love to you at night."

They broke at the sound of a car horn. "That cannot be the cab already," Gleason said, moving toward the door. She pulled it open and sure enough, a cab in the drive flashed its lights.

"It's here," she said turning toward him. Bobby slipped on his jacket and embraced her, kissing her tenderly. "Call me when you get home, all right? I want to know you are safe."

"I will. I love you, Sweetheart."

"I love you, too. Bye. Be careful."

Bobby walked down the walk to the drive and got into the cab. Gleason waved and watched it pull away. She closed the door and sighed. She took two steps and the phone rang. She smiled, that silly goose, calling me from the cab! She dashed for the phone and picked it up on the second ring, "So you do miss me," the smile in her voice was obvious.

"You can tell, eh?"

"Malcolm."

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