"Van Husen, do you mind telling me where you've been for the past three hours?"
Peter Van Husen felt his smooth cheeks flush as he averted his gaze from the harsh glare emanating from his boss, Stan Withers. He rarely lied and he was lousy at it. Until he'd met Mavis Schuyler, there had never been any reason for him to lie. Mavis had changed all that, just as she'd changed a lot of things. Like his mindset on faithfulness, honesty and integrity. "I got a possible burglary call."
"And that took three hours?"
"Yes, it did." Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and upper lip. Peter was blond and blue eyed and seldom perspired. Until now. Another thing Mavis had changed. "The woman who made the call was upset and convinced that there was someone in the house. I stayed with her until she calmed down."
Stan stared at Peter so intently that Peter was sure he could see through his lame story. If his boss really knew what he'd been doing all afternoon he'd be sacked and he deserved it. Peter had spent the majority of the past three hours with Mavis Schuyler. They hadn't done anything physical--yet--but it was going to happen and they both knew it. No, the afternoon hadn't include hopping into the sack but it had included lots of talking, lots of gazing into each other's eyes and plenty of heavy breathing.
Stan finally spoke. "You've never been a problem, Van Husen. If anything you've been an asset to the force with that Boy Scout attitude of yours and pretty boy face. I know the newspaper loves you and so does my boss but I have to tell you that I'm smelling something that's not quite right. I'm going to be watching you."
"Yes, sir."
Peter waited until his boss had left him alone before exhaling. He felt rotten and exhilarated at the same time. Rotten because he was falling down on his job and exhilarated because of Mavis. She was so unlike any woman he'd ever known before.
Especially his wife.
Peter didn't want to think about Chelsea. He really didn't want to think how she'd feel if she found out that her husband was on the verge of having a thing with another woman. Chelsea would divorce him and while their marriage wasn't exactly the stuff that fairy tales was made of, he still didn't want a divorce. He should end it before it started but Peter knew that wasn't going to happen. Mavis Schuyler had gotten under his skin like some kind of fungus and he didn't have a clue how to stop what he was feeling. Worse, he didn't want to.
"Isn't that like the fifth false alarm you've had at the Schuyler place?" another officer asked.
"What of it?" Peter snapped.
"Nothing. Just kind of strange." The second officer smirked at him. "You must be looking for burglars under all the furniture--especially in the bedrooms, am I right?"
"Drop dead," Peter advised.
"I'm not knocking you, man. Mrs. Schuyler is kind of on the old side but she still looks pretty good. I say go for it."
Acid filled Peter's stomach. He was not the kind of guy who did what he was almost doing. His cell phone chirped. It was Mavis. Well, maybe he was that kind of guy.
Peter walked outside to take the call. The warm spring air hit him and he inhaled deeply. It was getting to be camping weather. There was nothing Peter loved more than taking off for the wilderness by himself. He wondered if Mavis liked camping. He doubted it. "Hello?"
"Peter?" He loved her voice. It was low and husky and reminded him of Jane Fonda's.
"How are you, Mavis?" His own voice cracked and the perspiration returned. Impatiently, he ran a hand over his face. This woman was turning him into a sweaty adolescent. "What's up?"
"I was wondering...things are settling down here and I remembered that project you wanted me to help you
with--the dance?"
"Oh, right." The policeman's dance. His spirits raised. A legitimate reason to be with Mavis! A reason Stan Withers couldn't possibly see anything fishy about. "When did you want to get together and work on that?"
"I'm free right now."
Peter swallowed. His shift ended in half an hour. Well, working with Mavis was part of his job. He'd be a little late getting home, that's all.
Liar! Peter ignored the voice in his head. He knew he was lying to himself but Chelsea wouldn't have a clue. Besides, he really did need to start working on that stupid dance. "I can be there in about forty minutes."
"I can't wait, Peter," Mavis told him.
Neither could he.
No comments:
Post a Comment