Dexter's Final Cut (Dexter 7)

“Oh, but that’s …” I said, wondering how this had all gotten so far out of hand. “I mean, I would never say that about you.…”

She eyed me for a moment. “You’d better not,” she said.

She drained the last two inches of mojito from her glass and set it on the table with a loud takk. “What about dinner?”

After wrestling with philosophy, the phone call from Rita, and Jackie’s merciless grilling, it was nice that there was finally something real and rewarding to latch onto. “Absolutely,” I said, with the very best hearty good cheer I could simulate under the circumstances. Jackie gave me a somewhat cynical smile, and nodded toward the house phone.

I called in our order.

FIFTEEN

I WAS SITTING ON THE BALCONY EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, nursing my second cup of coffee, when Jackie came out and sat across from me. “Good morning,” she said brightly, brushing back a strand of still-wet hair that flopped over her forehead. She reached for the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “Um,” she said. “I’m sorry if last night was a little …” She fluttered one hand. “I don’t know. I just got thinking that, you know.” She shrugged. “I really don’t know what to do with you.”

I must have given her a look that showed how strange her statement sounded, because she blushed, looked away, and waved a hand in the air.

“I mean,?

?? she said, “I’ve never had a bodyguard before.”

“To be honest, I’ve never been one before, either,” I said.

“Right,” she said. She sipped the coffee. “But seeing you there all the time I forget why you’re here and I kind of … you know. There aren’t that many people I can just sort of hang with.” She made a wry face. “Especially men.” She gave me a half smile. “But I feel very … comfortable with you.”

I might have told her that this was not really a strong endorsement of her good sense, but she sipped her coffee and went on.

“You treat me like a human being,” she said. “Not like I’m a rare piece of china, or the Second Coming or something, and that’s … Do you know how unusual that is, for me? To be treated like … normal?”

“Not really,” I said. “But I think I’m starting to get an idea.”

“It’s very unusual,” she said. “I mean, I know it goes with the territory, and there are even some people who like it.”

“Yes,” I said, thinking of Robert. “I have noticed that.”

Jackie looked at me, and then smirked. “Yeah, he really does, doesn’t he?” she said, to show she knew what I was thinking.

“He certainly seems to.”

She shrugged and sipped a little more coffee. “Well, I don’t. I mean, it’s nice to have everyone think you’re wonderful, but sometimes I just want to feel like … you know.” She threw both hands up, almost as if she was indicating half a touchdown, and then quickly dropped them again. “Stupid, huh?”

“Not at all,” I said politely, only a little bit baffled.

“So to have you around, talking to me like we’re just a couple of ordinary people, it makes me … I start to relax, and really feel normal, and it’s really nice.”

She sipped again, looking down at the table. “And then I remember why you’re here, and … Oh, I don’t know.” She sipped again and then put the cup down. “I guess, you know. How things might have been different. If …” She stuck out her lower lip and blew out a breath. “Forget it,” she said, and she picked up the coffee cup again. “It’s stupid.”

“Not at all,” I said, and it really wasn’t stupid. Incomprehensible, yes, but not stupid.

“Anyway,” she said, with a strange forced smile. “Just a couple more days, and you can get back to your normal life.”

“Oh, but …” I said. “I mean, I really don’t mind.”

Jackie raised one eyebrow at me over the rim of her cup. “Really,” she said.

“Yes, really,” I said. I waved a hand at the suite, the balcony, the view. “All this is new to me. I don’t get to live like this very often.” I smiled my best Bumpkin in the Big City smile and said, “I mean really, this is fun.”

She looked at me for a long moment, then snorted. “Well, good,” she said. “Glad I can provide some entertainment.”

Jackie stared into her cup, and I wondered what I had said wrong. I had clearly hit a sour note somewhere, and I didn’t want to. I have always found it dangerous to flounder into unknown conversational waters, especially involving human feelings, but I didn’t want Jackie to slump back into her moodiness—especially if she would blame me for it. So I gave it my best shot, and said, “Jackie, really. I am having fun. I like being around you.” She looked up at me without changing her expression, so I added, “I like you.”