Anna hurried back to the office, anxious to access any and all the public files she could find on the new business Duke was setting up for Corinthos. She recognized that she didn't have the evidence she'd need to get a warrant and so couldn't access anything private or protected, but she hoped (naively, she knew) there might be an obvious trail of breadcrumbs to something that made sense of their collaboration. The building he'd arranged to rent was owned by a suspicious consortium of out-of-country investors; the business and liquor licenses Duke had applied for named him as the sole applicant, no mention of the mystery club owner for whom he claimed to work. Everything Anna found made Duke's story seem less and less likely, and confirmed her suspicion that he was involved once again in the mob. This time he was working for Corinthos and not the Jeromes, but it hardly mattered. Again, he had gotten in over his head; again, thinking he was in control, Duke was, she was sure, instead being manipulated and exploited. Anna remembered how humiliated she'd been after his mob connections had been revealed more than twenty-five years ago, when she was first police commissioner, how she'd resigned her position in shame, and had almost run away from Port Charles in disgrace.
"Fool me twice," she muttered, "shame on me. I should have suspected something sooner."
Robert was propped up against his headboard, staring variously and in turn at the contents of the cold file open and scattered around him on the bedcovers. Witness reports from 1998 were plastered with sticky notes bearing his inscrutable scrawl, the fruits of his labour thus far. No one had spoken to Carolyn that day, her sisters weren't in town, no one had had any idea that she might have been pregnant (this question had prompted muffled sobs over the phone during more than one conversation; Robert was sorry to be reigniting so much grief and trauma). There were still three close girlfriends Robert needed to contact. He dreaded every one of those interviews.
He'd face it all tomorrow. Tonight he was, he had to admit, just killing time. Waiting for Anna to call. Hoping she'd call. Hoping even harder that maybe she would come by. Or call for him to come by. Robert's gut ached, and from time to time he broke out in a cold sweat. She'd said she wanted to see him today, but she had seen him at the office. Did that count? Would she want to see him again tonight? Earlier they had talked about business. She'd asked him about the case. Did she want to discuss more? Was there more to discuss? Did she maybe want to discuss them instead? Their future? Or did she want to discuss anything at all? Did she maybe want something from him instead? Did she maybe want—him? Did she maybe want them? Robert, though occasionally trying to work, had sat alone on the bed for the last two hours feeling astounded, unsure, and expectant at the same time.
What eventually happened he didn't expect at all. A knock at the door roused him from his anxious daze; he extricated himself carefully from the paper-strewn bed, trying not to crease any of the documents. A part of him knew it was too much to hope for, but as he swung open the door he blurted out "Anna? Is that you?"
He shouldn't have said anything at all, because, of course, it wasn't Anna. It was a very pissed-off looking Duke Lavery instead. Robert stared at him for a moment, slightly stunned. Then, before he could ask what Lavery wanted, Duke hauled off and punched Robert full-force across the jaw.
The next time he heard a knock at the door, Robert was more careful. He opened it a crack, leaving the chain on. "Who is it?" he asked.
"It's me," said Anna. "What's with all the caution? I promise not to kick you. We're getting along really well right now, remember?" As Robert removed the chain, she spoke rapidly. "You're not going to believe what I just found out—actually, you will believe it, because you warned me it was possible, and I'm the one who didn't want to think that it could be true, but I've just come from the office . . . ."
Robert stood in the doorway, icepack pressed against his cheek, his jaw slightly swollen and bruised, his lip fat and cut.
"Oh my god, Robert, what happened to you?" Anna anxiously took his arm, ushered him over to the bed, sat him down, and lifted the icepack away, better to see the damage. "Are you okay? Who did this to you? When did it happen?"
Robert pushed the ice pack back onto his face. "Let's just say Lavery didn't respond well to whatever it was you told him. He was at my door about a half an hour ago, in a spitting rage. I didn't know he had it in him. I want you to know that he caught me unawares; otherwise he never would have gotten the drop on me."
Anna looked confused. "To what I told him? Robert, I didn't tell Duke anything."
Robert looked disappointed. "You didn't tell him that you'd been having second thoughts about him, about your relationship?"
Anna took Robert's free hand. "I was going to. I really was. I started to ramble something—I don't even remember what I said. I know I didn't mention you. But then he was called away again. I was so angry and annoyed I followed him. That's what I wanted to tell you. I followed him to Corinthos' office. Duke and Sonny are working together, I'm sure."
Robert lowered the ice pack. "If you didn't tell him anything, then why was Lavery shitting tacks, and why did he come over and plug me?"
"I don't know, Robert," Anna said apologetically. She carefully kissed the bruise on the side of his face, then his split lip, and gently but firmly replaced the ice pack on his jaw. Then she got to work collecting together the scattered papers of the file—"I see you your organizational style hasn't changed in all these years," she remarked—and put them on the desk, out of the way. She helped Robert sit back against the headboard again, took off her coat, and settled herself next to him, her right shoulder pressed against his left. She held his hand.
"Duke's obviously found out without me telling him that we've been spending time together," she remarked.
Robert frowned. "Trust me, Anna, he thought we'd done more than just spend time together, from the look in his eye and the ungodly 'my-child-is-trapped-under-the-car' strength behind his fist."
Anna abruptly understood and turned her head. "He knows that you spent the night? But how did he find out? No one saw you leave, did they?"
Robert looked at her impatiently. "Come on. Of course not. You know I know my business."
They were silent for a moment, staring forward. Suddenly they both turned and looked at each other. "Sonny Corinthos," Robert spoke the realization aloud, and Anna nodded, "Of course." They both looked back ahead, shaking their heads. "Carly Jacks," Robert snarled; "Olivia Falconeri," Anna scowled. "It never occurred to me that, by living at the Metro Court, I was compromising myself. I've been such an idiot."
Robert patted her leg. "Now, now, don't feel too bad." He left his hand on her thigh. They gazed at the opposite wall again, contemplating their situation. Robert was the first to break the silence.
"I have to admit that I'm glad it all happened this way."
Anna turned to look at him again. "Let me get this straight. You're happy Duke found out about us from his mob overlord, immediately ran over here, and slugged you in the jaw? Sometimes I really don't understand you."
Robert smiled broadly, which spread his fat lip flat, making it bleed again. He continued looking straight ahead. "No. I'm glad you realized you still cared about me before you found out about Lavery's underhandedness. Now I don't have to worry that I'm some kind of sad consolation prize, something you'll settle for now that you realize Lavery's a rat."
Anna turned away, looking off in the same direction as Robert. "You arrogant asshole," she replied. "You know very well that no woman who's ever met you has thought of you as a 'consolation prize.' You've always been the giant, dusty stuffed animal on the very top shelf that no woman thinks she has a chance in hell of winning but hopes against hope that maybe, just maybe she'll get."
Robert was quiet for a moment and almost seemed touched. But then he ruined the moment. "So let me get this straight," he checked; "you're telling me that Lavery, in fact, was the consolation prize, and that, really, you wanted me all along?"
Anna jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, but she was smiling. "Why in god's name do I keep spending tokens on this bloody carnival game? I'm sure it's rigged."
"In your favour, Darling," Robert laughed, and then moaned, clutching at his jaw.
"No, not in my favour, Robert," Anna sighed. "Winning you is always temporary. Some kind of sick loan. And then you're snatched away again." She looked at him and glared. "Either that or you leave of your own accord. You left me again after Robin's wedding. After what I thought had been a really wonderful and—intimate—reunion."
Robert didn't look at her. "I still think about that night."
Anna continued staring at him. "Cold consolation, Robert. If I'd known it was going to be a one-off, I probably would have said 'Thank you, no' and gone back to my own suite."
Robert still looked straight ahead. "You would have missed out on something pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself."
Now Anna looked away. "You were uncharacteristically generous that night. But only because of your stupid Scorpio pride. You didn't want me to see your bag. You wouldn't take off any of your clothes."
"Ah, but Humpty Dumpty's been put together again," Robert said, patting his abdomen. "I want you to know that I expect our next 'intimate reunion' to be more reciprocal."
"My great fear," Anna confessed, "is that you'll love me for a short time, and then something or someone will draw you away. In six months you'll pass your physical exam and tell me that you need to leave. And you will. And I'll be alone."
He turned to her. "You told me once that leaving is what I do best."
Anna didn't reply.
"I really do want to stay this time."
"If wishes were horses, Robert . . ."
"I know the rest of the proverb. Don't turn me into a beggar, Anna."
She looked back at him. "Robert, I don't have the ability to walk away from you. You were my first love and I'd like you to be my last. But we both know that I don't really have much to say in the matter."
She pushed herself away from the headboard, turned to face him, and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll get you an aspirin from the bathroom. You should get some rest." Then she got up off the bed.
"Wait," Robert commanded. He leaned over, opened the drawer of his nightstand, and pulled something out. He waved it triumphantly.
"Someone," Anna observed, "seems a bit too prepared for unexpected overnight female guests."
"I bought it for you this morning," he explained, presenting her with the toothbrush.
Anna laughed. "I start work at 7:00, Robert. To stay here I'd need more than a toothbrush. At very least I'd need a change of clothes. Believe it or not, the men I work with will notice if I show up tomorrow in today's rumpled outfit."
The disappointment showed in Robert's face. "Next time," she promised, "I'll come more prepared. Anyway, you're in no shape for more conversation or anything else tonight." She went to the bathroom to get his aspirin, put on her coat, and grabbed her bag. "I'll call you first thing in the morning to see how you're feeling. And if you can come into the office later, I'm expecting some security footage I hope will shed light on the warehouse shooting." And then she left.