Chapter Three
He couldn’t believe he had messed up so badly.
Walter automatically made a pot of coffee the
next morning, not realizing he had added a tablespoon of cinnamon until its
spicy aroma filled the air. Cursing under his breath, he dumped the
coffee, filter and all, into the trash can next to the counter, and started
the process over again, this time sans the cinnamon. Which really
didn’t matter because the scent of it still lingered in the air. Reminding
him of Paige and how stupid he had been.
He shouldn’t have erased that message.
He shouldn’t have gone speed dating. He shouldn’t have agreed to go
on a date with Linda, especially since he had no real interest in her.
He shouldn’t have to make himself into something he wasn’t, just to please
other people.
He shouldn’t think of Paige day and night.
Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her kindness, her lips. . . They were
colleagues. Friends. Colleagues slash friends shouldn’t dream
of each other the way he dreamt of her every night.
Except last night. Images of Paige and
Drew, doing all the things he wanted to do with her, had haunted him whether
he had been conscious or asleep. His stomach still felt queasy at
the thought of the disquieting pictures which had filled his mind.
A loud click startled him from his thoughts and
he saw the coffee was ready. Pouring himself a cup, he wandered over
to his desk, where he sat down and stared at his blank computer screen.
The door to the garage was thrown open and Happy,
Toby, and Sylvester came filing inside. The human calculator came bustling
up to Walter, holding a piece of paper.
“Where’s Paige and Ralph?” he asked worriedly,
glancing around the building. “Ralph and I were supposed to go over
our checklist for his field trip this weekend before he went to school.”
Walter got to his feet, nervously taking a sip
of his coffee before speaking. “Paige is taking some time off.
She won’t be coming in the rest of the week,” he announced.
“How am I supposed to. . .” Sly began before
Toby cut him off.
“And why is Miss Dineen taking the rest of the
week off?” he inquired.
“It’s none of your business, moron.” Happy
had gone over to her workbench and picked up a hammer. She gave a piece
of metal a couple of good whacks. “Hey, Walt, when she gets back,
can I take a few days?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Toby asked before Happy could open
her mouth. “Why is Paige getting special treatment?”
“She’s not.”
“Then why can’t Happy have time off?” Toby
turned to the mechanic. “So, do you have anything planned or is this
spur of the moment? I love spur of the moment.” He waggled his
eyebrows.
“Sicko.” Happy went back to hammering out
a dent in piece of motorcycle fender.
“She just can’t. Okay?” Walter sat
back down in his chair and turned on his laptop.
“No, not okay.” Toby practically skipped
across the room to sit on the corner of Walter’s desk. “You’re upset.
Did you and our liaison have words last night? Is that why she’s not
here today?”
“No.”
“You know, Walter, when I said you should get
a blow up doll, I did not mean it literally.” The doctor smirked as
Sly’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “I think Paige was upset
about your date. I heard the comments she made when she thought no one
was listening. She was not happy.”
“No one is except me.” Happy shouted from her side
of the garage.
“She did seem, well, a bit snippy yesterday,”
Sylvester chimed in. “I guess I’ll have to give her a call about this
weekend.”
“No!” Walter jumped to his feet, nearly
knocking over his mug. “Do not call her. She doesn’t want to
be disturbed.”
“And how do you know that?” Hopping off
the desk, Toby stared at his boss. “Why wouldn’t she want us to call.
. .unless she’s not alone. Ha, you tightened your lips. She’s
not alone.”
“Dammit, Toby, can’t you just leave it alone?”
yelled Walter. Sly and Happy both glanced up sharply at his unexpected
outburst, shocked expressions on their faces.
“Well, now I can’t.” The shrink tapped
his index finger to his lips. “Who would put you in such an almighty
temper? Who . .” Toby’s mouth dropped open and he was silent
for ten whole seconds. “Oh my God, it’s Drew. He’s back in town.”
“So what if he is?” asked Walter defiantly.
“He’s Ralph father. He has a right to visit his son.”
“Of course, he does, no one is saying the schmuck
doesn’t,” Toby agreed. “But you’re worried he’s here to see more than
just Ralph. You’re worried Paige might go out with her ex, maybe rekindle
the old flame. A little tit for tat.” He giggled.
“Sicko” Happy said again as she sauntered up
to the desk. “I don’t think it’s any of our business. But. . .”
She punched Toby lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t think she would ever
get back together with Drew.”
“Ow. And how would you know this, if I
may ask? I thought I was the psychiatrist here.” Toby rubbed
his upper arm in an exaggerated manner.
“Female instinct. She’s cut her losses
with Drew and moved on.” Happy shrugged. “Once that happens,
there’s usually no going back. Plus she’s not the revenge type.
She’s not mean enough.”
“Well, excuse me, Doctor Quinn,” said Toby sarcastically.
“Maybe you should be our new medicine woman.” He tried to put his hat
on her head, but she swatted it halfway across the room before he could.
“Enough,” Walter declared as Toby scurried after his
headgear. “We have work to do. I suggest we all get to it.”
He sat back down in his chair and began typing
away on his keyboard. Nothing but gibberish, of course. Peeking
over his screen, he saw the others returned to their workplaces. Good.
Everything was back under control. Then he made the mistake of looking
at the empty desk across from his.
Dammit.