An Act of Persuasion - By Stephanie Doyle Page 0,74
it happen. You’re not a quitter and I’ve yet to see you not get what you want.”
“Thanks.” That meant a lot coming from Ben.
“Will you back off Anna’s case and let me handle tracking down her parents?”
Mark could have accepted what Ben had said earlier. It didn’t make sense for both of them to look for the same thing. He had no doubt both of them would find whatever information was out there to learn. They were too good at what they’d done in their former lives to not be able to handle a basic request for information, even with an obstacle like false names.
But something in Ben’s expression made Mark pause. Despite playing it cool, Ben wanted him to back off. Badly. This was more than suggesting Mark would be wasting his time by doubling Ben’s efforts.
“Will you tell me the real reason why you want me to back off?”
Ben tilted his head. “No.”
Wrong answer. It meant Ben had an agenda and, for Anna’s sake, Mark couldn’t live with whatever consequences came from that agenda. At least he could provide Anna with some neutrality. For everything she’d done for him, he felt as though he owed her the simple courtesy of finding her parents.
“Sorry. I made a promise to her. She asked me to find them. I’m going to find them.”
“You won’t. Not before I do.”
“I’ve had the birth certificate for weeks longer than you’ve had it. What makes you think you’ll beat me to the information?”
“A hunch.” Ben shrugged.
“Okay, well, we said no bet. But I don’t see anything wrong with using your little statement there as...motivation.”
“You’re pathetic, Sharpe.”
“Don’t I know it?”
Mark left the office feeling lighter than when he’d gone in. For a few moments there, it had felt as though Ben were a friend. There simply to listen and let Mark get some of the shit he was feeling about his relationship with this daughter off his chest.
Two old adversaries who could see how their lives had changed and take comfort from each other in knowing that neither would forget the past. Maybe Anna wasn’t his only friend in the states after all.
* * *
“CAREFUL, CAREFUL.”
“Lady, we got it.”
Anna stared down the mover and he stared back hard. Considering he was holding up one half of her dining-room cabinet, she let him win. “Sorry. I’m a little anal about this stuff.”
“Really,” he muttered. “Couldn’t tell.”
Deciding it best to avoid the surly moving man who was sweating through his blue uniform shirt, Anna left the dining room and made her way to the living room where Ben was carefully measuring the wall.
“Geezus, Tyler, pick a spot in the middle and hang it up.”
Ben turned to give Mark a scorching glare. “To be properly centered I need the length of the wall.”
Mark walked over and put his finger on a spot. “Trust me. That’s the middle of the wall. I’m a crack shot and have an excellent sense of topography. I know where the middle is.”
Ben continued his measurements. “If you would like to be useful, I’m sure there are other pictures that need to be hung.”
“There are. Upstairs in her room. But, nut job that you are, you won’t let me in her bedroom.”
“There is no reason for an employer to be in his employee’s bedroom. Yes, while I concede that I am, in fact, calling the kettle black, it doesn’t change that I’m right. You stay downstairs and out of my way.”
Mark turned toward her. “Anna, will you talk to him?”
Anna smiled and watched as Ben finally tapped in the nail to hang her favorite painting. It was a print, not an original, but it was signed and numbered and she considered it her first big art purchase. A man and a woman in formal dress dancing on the beach. Very romantic.
Funny, for all the times she’d ever looked at it, she never once thought of her and Ben in the scene. She didn’t see him taking off his shoes and socks and rolling up his trousers to spin her around on the beach. He was far too practical.
But it never bothered her, his lack of whimsy. She loved his stability instead. Maybe that was why she liked the picture so much. Knowing it was a fantasy and nothing more. She would much rather have the man with the leveler and tape measure in his hand than some flaky guy on a beach without his shoes any day.