“Lot of people don’t ever come to claim their storage items once they default on payment,” I explained. “The crap that accumulates is auctioned off to make room for actualpaying customers. Ever sinceTime Out wrote it up as a kitsch thing to do, it’s like the Ringling Brothers took over. All these assholes come here hoping to avoid Ikea, but to me, anything I luck into here just goes into supporting my apartment. Hey, maybe I can score you something to help you out with your money sitch until things smooth over.”
“Maybe I should just head back to Kansas,” Jane said, sounding defeated.
“Are you really ready to throw in the towel on the Big Apple already?” I asked, even though, if you’d asked me a couple days ago, I would have said that the city could definitely use one less Sectarian. Like many people who were transported New Yorkers, I felt Jane had something to prove to herself here, and was reluctant to leave. She would probably be safer if she left town, but that stubborn part of her that I could totally identify with was still holding out.
I checked my watch and realized we had a little time to kill. My stomach growled and I led Jane off in the direction of the food vendors. I was hungry enough to eat whatever rat on a stick or cockroach knish they might be selling.
My God,I realized.This feels more and more like a date, doesn’t it? I found that despite Jane’s previous alignment with the forces of Darkness, the idea didn’t scare me as much as I thought it might. Maybe if I approached this like it was a date, Jane might be more likely to give herself over to the forces of Good. In a moment of spontaneity, I approached a guy standing nearby making balloon animals. The twist of green and red he was working on looked vaguely like a wiener dog, and he handed it to a kid with a big grin on his face, who then ran off in the direction of his mother.
“Hey, pal,” I said, fishing out my wallet. “I’ll take one of those. Can you make a flower or something like that?”
The balloon guy was shorter than me, chunky, and wore a fanny pack to store his balloons in. He looked at me and shook his head-his black, shoulder-length mullet swaying back and forth like seaweed in the ocean. “Sorry, pal. I wouldn’t want to send any of the little kids home sad or crying because I ran out of balloons giving something away to an adult.”
I looked around the crowd. There were only a handful of children scattered here and there, most of them already with balloons. “It’s for the lady,” I said insistently. I gave him my most sincere c’mon-be-a-pal-don’t-fuck-this-up-for-me smile.
He shook his head again and I could feel myself going a little Hulkish around the edges.
“C’mon,” I said, lowering my voice. “Not even for the young at heart?”
This time he simply rolled his eyes and began to turn away, but I wouldn’t be deterred. I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.
“Dude,” I shouted. “You’re a guy whose only freaking job seems to be-and correct me if I’m wrong here-blowing and twisting. It’s not that hard. I think you can take two minutes out of your busy schedule here to whip one up for us big kids who are more likely to tip your sorry ass for the trouble than little Billy or Suzy here. Let’s not be a Balloon Nazi about this, okay?”
Jane beamed like a kid on Christmas Day as she attempted to keep hold of the barely manageable variety of balloon-made items in her hands. Streaming along with her were a flower, a wiener dog, a pirate sword, a musketeer hat with a balloon plume, a poodle, a sleeping cat, an airplane, a goldfish, and something the balloon maker had feverishly assured us was a flying mouse.
“Oh my God,” Jane said. The wiener dog suddenly made a spirited break for it, but I grabbed it by its snout and handed it back to her. “You are the man! You are totally a rock star in the world of balloon animal negotiations! I bow to your superior scare tactics!”
“It’s my gift,” I said with a flourish of my arm and a deep bow. She laughed and hugged her balloons. One of them exploded with a loud pop and she screamed. It was a moment of fright that should have passed quickly, but suddenly tears were running down her face. I moved to put my arm on her shoulder.
“Hey,” I said, “Jane…what’s wrong? What is it?”
People had turned to stare now, including several children, but I figured that was probably just balloon envy. I moved us away from the crowd toward the edge of the street and next to a cotton candy machine.
“God,” she said. I could hear the self-loathing in her voice. “Ihate when I get all small-town spooked.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just try to relax.”
“Youtry to relax!” she snapped. The tears were still coming, but suddenly she was getting angry. “A couple of days ago my life was going fine. Now I’m essentially unemployed, I’ve lost my dental plan, and I flinch at every loud sound because I think it’s a corporate headhunter trying to put a bullet in my brain!”
I was getting upset as well. I wasn’t really a fan of getting yelled at, and especially not when I was just trying to help.
“Look,” I said after counting to ten to calm myself, “I can’t imagine how much this sucks for you, Jane, so I’m not even going to pretend. We’ll figure something out, I swear. I just need time to investigate things the proper way. I hate every moment that you’re at risk. In the meantime, though, I need you to let me do what I came here for. That doesn’t mean I’m going to neglect you. I’m going to do everything I can to help keep you safe.”
I looked her in the eyes, and she nodded.
“Not that you need to be kept safe,” I added awkwardly. “I mean, I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but, well…I’m in the Good business, so keeping people safe is part of what I do. It’s not a chauvinist thing, I swear.”
I felt like a social retard, so I shut up.
Jane softened and said, “I’m sorry. I’m one of the bad guys. I know you’re doing your best. You’ve already gone above and beyond with all this.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said.Gee, thanks?!? Did I actually say that? Why couldn’t I just shut up and take a compliment?
“You’re welcome,” she said, wiping away the tears. “Besides, you probably thought I was all kinds of crazy reacting so emotionally.”
“No, it’s fine,” I lied.
“It’s not fine,” she said gravely. “I haven’t been totally up-front with you. You don’t know the whole story. But I like you and I think you have a right to know.”
“Know what?” I asked.
Jane took a deep breath, exhaled the last of her hysterics, and looked me in the eye. “Their headhunter-Jason Charles, the one I spoke to on the phone the day I was injured-may be a bit more aggressive about finding me than I might have led you to believe.”
“And why’s that?” I asked warily.
“We sorta dated,” she said, her voice trailing off. Her nose crinkled as she braced herself for my response.
“Sorta?!” I asked. I could feel myself turning fifty shades of horrified. I had just started thinking I might be turning the corner with Jane, making some progress with her, but how could I begin to trust someone whodated a professional assassin? “Sorta dated? Ordid date?”
She was fighting to explain it-I could see it in her face-but that didn’t change the feeling of frustration building up inside me.
“I went out with him three times, but that was months ago!” she said as if somehow that excused it. “He seemed nice enough. Well-groomed, business suits every day…but once I realized the type of mentally unstable individual it took to be a hired gun in that creepy little business world of theirs, I broke it off.”
“So how did he take it?”
I wanted to grab her and shake her for her own good. She was a nice girl, but it was becoming increasingly likely that she was going to get both of us killed.
“Well,” she said, “since I worked for the big boss, there was nothing Jason could do to me. So rather than giving me any trouble, he just became inordinately professional in the office and we stopped talking.”