she said was all that you said—and more. But she didn’t list them. It was the way she phrased it.”
With his right hand, somewhat anxiously, he made a gesture that said And that was? Then he saw her face, and immediately regretted it.
Amanda said, “Didn’t you just in your last breath suggest that patience was a virtue to have in a good lasting relationship?”
Well, KAAA-FUCKING-BOOM, Matty!
Nice job. You may as well have just taken a running dive onto that minefield.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Well, damn it, Matt! You should be. Because this is really important to me. Because you’re important to me.”
She paused, and she looked deeply, and genuinely lovingly, into his eyes.
It was powerful, and he felt his throat tighten.
She truly is a goddess.
And I truly am a complete and utter ass.
“Amanda, I’m sorry.”
“What she said was this: ‘When I hear the tires of his car come crunching up the stone drive of our house in Connecticut, I visualize him and think, ‘Now the fun begins.’”
Amanda stared Matt in the eyes again.
“Do you see?” Amanda said softly. “There was an excitement to their relationship. They weren’t together for any reason other than enjoying one another. Love, too, but enjoyment.”
He looked at her and thought, The way it is in the beginning, when just the thought of your mate makes your heart beat faster.
She added, “Theirs was a true companionship. A real relationship. Joyful.”
He nodded.
“Now the fun begins,” she repeated. “I want that, Matt. I need that. Now, and especially later, when most don’t have it.”
She looked down a moment, then back up at him, and softly added: “I felt that when I heard your key in the lock earlier. Now the fun begins. . . .”
They looked each other in the eyes, and after what seemed like a very long time, Amanda said, “You don’t have any response to that?”
Matt didn’t trust his voice to speak.
He raised his eyebrows, then cleared this throat.
“Only,” he said carefully, “that I really admire Mel even more now. And, yeah, I want that, too.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“It sounds like there was a ‘but’ coming,” Amanda said. “Do you think it’s possible?”
He hesitated, then rolled his eyes.
“Nah,” he said. “Obviously, only in the movies.”
Her eyes grew wide with shock. “What?”
Then he smiled, held her hand, and said, “Baby, not yes, but hell yes it’s possible.”
He wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder.
As he gently squeezed, he said, “I do want that, too. I want you, Amanda, more than anything.”
Did I just prove her father’s point—that I’ll say anything she wants to hear? Particularly to get her naked?
But it’s more than that.
I meant what I said. I do want her.
I just have no damn idea what to say if she asks about me quitting the department.
He felt her arms wrap around him, and she squeezed gently back. She buried her nose behind his ear and softly kissed his neck.
As he thought he heard her begin to sniffle, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
“I’ve Got You Under My Skin” came softly from the speakers.
IX
[ONE]
2027 Fairmount Avenue, Philadelphia Sunday, November 1, 7:22 P.M.
H. Rapp Badde, Jr., sitting in his Range Rover parked at the curb near the corner of Corinthian and Fairmount Avenues, knew that his sudden dark mood had not been caused by his view of the medieval Eastern State Penitentiary. But the haunting and imposing two-hundred-year-old structure damn sure wasn’t helping his attitude, despite the signage he’d days earlier ordered bolted to its massive stone walls.
The sign—one of a dozen fabricated by the same local company that did all of PEGI’s projects—was a four-by-eight-foot sheet of plywood painted bright white. Its bold black lettering read: MOVING PHILLY FORWARD!
COMING SOON TO FAIRMOUNT: THE VOLKS HAUS AFFORDABLE APARTMENT LIVING
FOUR 500-UNIT HIGH-RISE TOWERS!
ANOTHER FINE DEVELOPMENT FOR YOUR FUTURE FROM PHILADELPHIA ECONOMIC GENTRIFICATION INITIATIVE
A PROJECT OF THE CITY OF PHILADELPHIA HOUSING & URBAN DEVELOPMENT COUNCILMAN H. RAPP BADDE, JR., CHAIRMAN
Though PEGI had not yet received the paperwork from the bureaucrats in Washington, D.C., releasing the decrepit property to them, Badde felt enough time had been wasted and had given the go-ahead for the posting of the signs.
It had taken more of his political skills than he’d expected for his Housing and Urban Development Committee to take over the property from the nonprofit historical association that oversaw it. And he’d really wanted to rub it in the faces of the people who’d tried tripping him up every step of