P.S. You’re Intolerable: Chapter 13
P.S. You’re Intolerable (The Harder They Fall)
ELLIOT LEVY WAS ON my porch.
Elliot Levy was. On. My. Porch.
âElliot?â
He stared at me for a long time. Unblinking, taking me in like he was trying to figure out who I was. Seeing as he had shown up at my home, it made no sense whatsoever.
I stared back. His ebony hair was tousled like heâd been running his fingers through it all morning. His plush mouth molded into a frown, pulling the rest of his face down with it, a deep crevice forming between his brows.
My chest panged. Iâd missed him, but that didnât seem right. How could I have missed this unyielding, deadly-serious man?
My jumbled-up emotions were tricking me.
It had been a rough day. Joey-Girl was perfection, but everything else was in shambles.
She still hadnât gotten into any of the day cares, and I was feeling the weight of really having to put her in one of my drawers when I went back to work.
Even heavier on my mind was my house. I couldnât sell it in the condition it was in, and I had to. I absolutely had to, or Iâd be so screwed. But I was in no position to do all the work that had to be done, nor did I have the money to buy the supplies. Iâd thought about calling my parents more and more often, and I hated the very idea.
Iâd let myself cry while Joey slept. It was the only thing I could do when none of my efforts were making a difference and it felt like I was constantly swimming upstream.
And now this.
Him.
His eyes met mine, and I hoped they werenât as puffy and red as they felt.
His frown deepened. âThis isnât what you look like.â
My mouth fell open, but I knew exactly what he meant. I wasnât dressed up like Catherine. Elliot was getting a view of Kit, and he didnât know this girl.
âAhâI donât know what to say to that. This is me when Iâm not in the office.â I cocked my head, playing off the fact that I was standing in front of my boss in barely more than underwear. They were clothes from before my pregnancy. Theyâd been snug then. I was much, much curvier now and all too aware I was spilling out of them.
I shouldnât have answered the door.
âSorry. Youâre right.â His words were tight. His cheeks flushed like they did when he was pissed at me. âI shouldnât have said that.â
âWhy are you on my porch?â
âIâve come for the schematics.â He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and rocked on his toes like he was preparing to make a run for it.
âI told Daniel to send a messenger. Was he too frightened to tell you that?â
âNo, he told me. It was easier for me to come for them myself.â His frown had flattened into a hard line. âIs this how you always answer the door, Catherine?â
âNo one ever comes to my door, Elliot.â His unwavering stare pricked at my bare skin. Iâd always been so careful to cover my tattoos at work, but all that effort of finding conservative, nunlike clothing had been thrown out the window. He was seeing way more of me than Iâd ever wanted to show him.
âAnyone could see you like this.â
I glanced left and right. The sidewalks were empty. âNo one is around. I think Iâm safe.â
I crossed my arms under my breasts, thinking better of it when his gaze homed in on my propped-up cleavage.
My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and I gripped the edge of the door. I wasnât afraid of Elliot. It was the situation. I hadnât prepared myself to see him. âIâll go find them. It might take me some time since everythingâs sort of a mess right now.â
Understatement. But he didnât need to know about the hellhole on the other side of the door.
âI can wait,â he said.
âGreat.â
I moved back to close the door in his face, but Elliot stepped inside, taking it as an opening. Then he took the door from me and shut it behind him.
Instant panic climbed up my throat. This was my shame. If he saw it, heâd know Iâd let myself be taken inâthat Iâd been so desperate for a friend, someone to call my family, Iâd trusted someone I shouldnât have. Someone who was so unworthy of it, a blind person would have seen that.
âWhat are you doing?â I squeezed out.
âWaiting.â
âYou should wait outside, Iâmââ
He was already walking past me into the barren living room where Iâd left Joey on her play mat.
Joey and I had spent a lot of time holed away in her room or mine, but Iâd been going a little stir-crazy today, so Iâd brought some blankets down to pad the rough subflooring and her mat for her to play on.
Today, of all freaking days.
Elliot crouched down beside my daughter, peering at her as she windmilled her arms and kicked her feet. He hadnât said anything, so maybe the sight of my gorgeous daughter had blinded him to the wreckage surrounding her.
âHello, Josephine,â he said softly. âFancy seeing you here.â
I moved around them so I could see what he was doing. She clutched his index finger in her little fist, and he didnât seem in a hurry to rip his hand away from her. Joey was a curious little creature, but she was gazing up at Elliot, her eyes wider than Iâd ever seen them.
âShe doesnât see many people,â I explained. âYouâre like a shiny new toy.â
âThatâs understandable. Everythingâs brand new for her.â He glanced at me. âShe has an impressive grip for such a small person.â
âEverything she does is impressive.â
His brow winged. âArenât you a little biased?â
âMore than a little.â
His mouth hitched at the corner. âFair enough.â He jerked his chin. âGo find the schematics.â
I hesitated to leave them alone. Iâd have to go upstairs and wouldnât be able to see them.
His head tilted. âYou can leave her with me. Iâm not going to steal her. What would I do with a baby?â
âIââ I had nothing. There was no reason not to trust that Elliot wouldnât abscond with Joey, and if she cried, Iâd hear her. Besides, she was happy as a clam, and he didnât seem to mind hanging out with her. âOkay. Iâll be right back.â
âNo need to rush,â he called as I raced up the stairs.
Oh, Iâd be rushing. The longest Iâd spent away from Joey was when we were both asleep and Raymond stole her on our handful of coffee dates. I also couldnât imagine Elliot would know what to do if she started to cry. Granted, it was rare. She was generally a cheerful kind of gal unless she got hangry.
In my haste, I forgot Iâd taken my shoes off while sitting on the blankets with Joey. I wasnât a shoes-in-the-house kind of person. In this house, though, Iâd become one since all my floors were basically raw wood.
My bare foot came into contact with a sharp shard of wood, slicing through my skin like butter. The immediate pain took my breath away. It was the only reason I didnât howl like a dying wolf.
âShit, motherclucking clucker.â I hobbled down the hall to the bathroom and collapsed on the side of the tub to examine the damage.
Blood seeped from the sole of my foot, and I could have wept. This was adding insult to injury. Too much on top of the mountains I was buried under. Why hadnât I taken the time to put on my flip-flops?
I cleaned my foot with a washcloth. It hadnât stopped bleeding, but I didnât think Iâd need stitches. A pile of bandages would do.
I opened the medicine cabinet, managing to only find a small one meant for a paper cutânot a stabbing.
âWhy?â I hit the hollow box against my forehead and groaned. âWhy, why, why?â
What kind of mother didnât have Band-Aids? Not that Joey would ever get hurt, but I should have been prepared for everything. I was useless. Poor thing had been born to a mom who couldnât even patch herself up. Hell, I couldnât even provide my baby with real floors.
If it werenât for Joey, I would have curled up on the floor and given up for a while. God, that sounded enticing. Getting up from the side of the tub seemed much too big right now, but I had to. My boss was downstairs, expecting me to be a functioning human being even though I was hanging on by a fraying thread.
Sucking it up, I slapped on the tiny bandage, then wrapped my foot in toilet paper and carefully slipped on a sock to keep it all in place.
My first step made me hiss with pain, but I kept going. If I stopped, I might not have been able to convince myself to start again. The very last thing I needed was Elliot discovering me slumped in my hallway, bleeding out from a flesh wound.
It took me a considerable amount of time, but finally, my brain came back online. The schematics were in my workbag. Iâd taken them home the night before Iâd gone into labor and had completely forgotten about them. It made sense they would be there, which was why Iâd checked every other place first.
I hobbled downstairs slowly, crossing my fingers the makeshift bandage would stay in place. The sounds of the music from Joeyâs play mat drifted up from the living room, but it was otherwise silent.
A kernel of panic took root in my chest. Joey might not have cried a lot, but she made noises. Where were her noises?
I hurried into the living room, and the kernel grew until it filled my sternum. They werenât there. The play mat was empty.
âElliot?â I called. âWhere are you?â
Only a second or two passed, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Elliot appeared in the kitchen doorway, Joey in his arms.
âWeâre here,â he answered.
My heart was still lodged firmly in my throat. âYouâre holding her.â
He had my daughter against his chest, facing outward, his hand on her belly to keep her stable. She seemed content, her head resting against him, his suit sleeve clenched in her fist.
Somehow, this was different than when Raymond held her. Ray loved Joey, and they were buddies. It made me smile to see them together.
But thisâ¦I wasnât smiling. Despite myself, my thighs pressed together, and heat flooded my core.
What is this?
âShe seemed bored, so I took her out back to see the birds.â He patted her round middle. âIf I measure her enjoyment by the amount of drool that dripped on my arm, she liked it very much.â
A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. This was all so surreal. âMy daughter drooled on you?â
âShe did.â
âYou donât seem mad.â
He lifted a shoulder. âIâm not a monster, Catherine. I knew the risks of holding a baby and picked her up anyway.â He jiggled her softly, and she settled even more in his arms.
I didnât know how to handle this man holding my daughter so delicatelyâor my bodyâs immediate reaction. I walked toward them, intent on taking her back, giving him the schematics, and hustling him out of there so I could regain a semblance of equilibrium.
âYouâre limping.â
I stopped moving. âYes. I stubbed my toe. Iâm fine, though.â
He closed the distance between us. When Joey alighted on me, she gave me my favorite smile: open-mouthed with the sweetest little coo.
âHi, Joey-Girl,â I cooed back. âDid you get a ride with Elliot? Heâs so tall, isnât he? Youâve never been that high up before.â
âHer fatherâs short?â
I huffed. âNo. Heâs pretty tall too.â
His eyes narrowed. I held his gaze, my chin jutting out. I carried a lot of shame. Liam choosing not to be part of Joeyâs life was his to bear.
âHe hasnât held her,â Elliot concluded.
âHeâs not on the same continent, so no, he hasnât.â I waved the file heâd come for. âHere it is. Should we trade?â
âI think youâre getting the better deal,â he murmured as he handed me Joey and slipped the file from my hand.
Joey nuzzled her face against my neck, and I placed a kiss on her fuzzy head. âYouâd better get back to the office. Daniel might be getting too comfortable in your absence.â
âYes, that is a concern.â He rubbed his chin while looking me over. Iâd thrown on a T-shirt, so there was far less skin on display, but his gaze was so penetrating I might as well have been naked. âAre you doing okay?â
I nodded, even though I wanted to shout to the rooftops that I wasnât even close to okay. How could he look around and not see that? âIâm good. How about you?â
âIâm fine, as always.â He exhaled slowly through his nose. âYour presence is missed in the office.â
My lips tilted in a smirk. âI miss the officeâs presence too.â
âWellâ¦â bowing his head, his nostrils flared, âIâll be off. Like you said, canât let Daniel get too comfortable.â
Elliotâs exit was swift and final, the door clicking shut behind him.
I looked down at Joey and kissed the tip of her button nose. âThat was strange, right? Elliot Levy stood in our hovel and didnât utter a single word of criticism.â
He didnât ask any questions either, which was unlike him as well. I guessed he was silently judging me.
âVery, very strange.â