"Wow," said the clerk, as I hauled the tower of records up to counter. "Did you win the lottery?"
"Something like that." I said.
The records made an audible thump on the wooden counter as I set them down.
I hurried to pay or them as quickly as I could.
"Don't expect me to help you in with those," Sarah said, when I got back to the limo, as I set the stack of records across the seat opposite mine.
"Not at all; just open the doors for me."
"Aye, aye."
With Sarah's help on door duty, I got the records into the parlor.
"I'll go park the limo," Sarah said, heading back out.
I could see her smirk, despite her attempts to hide it. I didn't really mind. It really was funny, for a particular perspective. A solid testament to my obsession manifest on the coffee table.
Slowly, I put myself to the task of putting the new records in their proper place in my carefully designed filing system that made the Dewey Decimal system look chaotic.
When it was done, I looked over at my handiwork, feeling an odd sense of pride. I thought of the times I had brought Kora in here. Three in all and what had happened after, in one case, in there.
I could feel a swelling in my pants. I did my best to ignore it. There was really no good that could come of it. It was kind of like torture, to want her so bad but only have my thoughts of her and my own hand.Chapter Nineteen - LoganPouring out a Vodka Gears at the mini bar counter, trying to not to think about how frequently I’d been making them these days, I strolled back over to my record collection, or as close to strolling as I could get, while sipping from the tumbler.
Pulling a record from its spot, I went over to the turn table and slid the metal spite through the little hole. Gently setting the arm, I put the needle down in the first groove as it went spinning by.
I stood listening for a moment, sipping my Vodka Gears, listening to the melodies,
feeling the rhythm section in the hardwood floor. I casually put my other hand in my pocket, finding the Stanley knife I had put there earlier in the day during work.
I had been in the store room opening a new shipment of life-jackets. I must have forgotten. Still listening and sipping, I went over to one of the chairs and sat down.
Eventually, I pulled my phone out of my inside pocket and carefully, with a shaking thumb, dialled Kristen's number.
It took five rings for her to pick up.
That was okay. I had some time.
"Hello?"
"Hey, dumpling," I said.
"Hi," she said, flatly.
"How's my baby sister?"
"I'm not that much younger," she pointed out, having gotten a bit prickly about the baby sister thing since growing up.
"Touché," I said.
"What's up?"
"Have you heard from Kora recently?" I asked.
"Sure."
"She changed her number," I said.
"Yes," Kristen said.
"And her address," I said.
"Indeed," Kristen confirmed.
"Do you know what the new ones are?"
"The number, yeah," Kristen said.
"I need help. I-I can't -"
"I'll try but I don't want to drive Kora away. Not now that we are finally back together."
"That's what dad said, too," I said.
"He is pretty smart, you know," Kristen said, softening.
"Yeah."
"Was it his idea to give me a quarter of the company?"
"No, it was mine. He supported it though. It's no big deal. I still have half of the shares I wanted, after I gave dad his half."
"Why?"
"It's your due. You were his grandkid, too. You worked as hard as I did at the sailing business, especially at the beginning, before he started pushing you out."
"I got those paintings and candelabras.'
"But you weren't an heir. He shortchanged you and cut dad out. And I let him. I should have said something. I'm just putting things right…"
"You really couldn’t have known -"
"Kristen?" I said, starting to feel light headed.
"Yeah?"
"How would you feel about having fifty percent?"
"I don't -"
"I need help," I said again, softer this time.
"Logan?"
"Yes, dumpling?"
"What are you listening to?"
"'Don't Fear the Reaper.'"
"I'll be there as soon as I can; just hold on, okay?"Chapter Twenty - KoraI squeezed out more lotion from the dispenser strapped to my hip. One of the key skills required of a masseuse.
I was learning a lot in the training course. I had worked with masseuses, in the sense that we were both in the same building for the last couple of years. I thought I knew what they did. I thought it was easy. I had no idea.
If it wasn't for Erik helping me, I probably would have flunked out months ago. He really was a good friend. It was nice to know there was still someone who cared.
I moved around the table, being very careful of my baby bump. I had knocked it against the edge of the table a few times when I was just starting as a trainee at the spa. The doctor had done an ultrasound— I was taking absolutely no chances— and said there was no harm done but that I should be a bit more careful.