The Pajama Affair (13 page)

Chapter 16

Liza didn’t go home after her visit with Dirk. She couldn’t. What he had said about Link stuck in her head and made her feel self-conscious. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Link; after all, he was a government agent. But the truth was that she had only known him a few weeks. She shouldn’t feel as comfortable with him as she did. Why did she? Until she figured that out she didn’t want to see him. Even though he was most likely at work she decided not to risk running into him. For all she knew he could be sitting in her house—enough people certainly used it as stomping grounds lately.

She could go to the mall, but she didn’t want to go alone. There was nothing she wanted to buy, and she didn’t want to be tempted to go over her meager budget. Instead she went to see
Marion
.

Marion
was a research librarian at their alma mater. Liza always felt a little strange going back to her college as a grown up. She felt like she had a flashing sign around her neck that read “Old.” But it was summer, and few students were around so she felt less conspicuous. She wondered how
Marion
managed to keep an upbeat attitude around so many eighteen year old coeds, but then
Marion
didn’t have much interaction with the students. She was a research librarian for the professors, and she was always busy. With so many professors and assistant professors trying to get published,
Marion
never ran out of work. When she occasionally did have a few free minutes, they were usually spent helping students with research, but she seemed to enjoy the change of pace. Sometimes Liza thought
Marion
didn’t like her job very much. When asked about it, she was effusive with her praise, but Liza wasn’t convinced. In Marion she sensed a restlessness she had felt in herself, but maybe every twenty-something locked in a stable job felt the same “Is this all there is?” sort of uneasiness about life.

“Hey,” Liza said as she approached
Marion
’s desk.
Marion
was bent over underneath her desk and she appeared to be making frantic hand motions. When she sat up her expression looked frantic, too.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “I get off in an hour, I’m swamped, and,” she shoved her oversized bag at Liza’s midsection, “find my keys.”

Marion
probably lost her keys an average of twelve times a day. Liza clutched the bag to her torso and stood looking over
Marion
’s desk. It was immaculate. Even the ruler was placed at a ninety degree angle. How was it possible for someone to be so neat in her work life and such a mess in her personal life? But
Marion
was
Marion
. There was no changing her. Liza knew because she had spent four years of college trying to do just that. She had bought
Marion
every organizational system known to mankind, along with a remote key ring sensor. In the end the organizational systems were buried beneath mounds of paper and the key ring sensor was lost on the first day, along with her keys. And so Liza gave up. She decided to love her best friend for her many admirable qualities and overlook her few glaring flaws.

Now she took the huge bag, overflowing with trash and papers, retired to a small cubby and began the process of searching through it. Previously she would have organized it and thrown the trash away, but years of experience told her that what looked like trash to her was often something important to
Marion
. So now she simply emptied everything out of the bag and sifted through the contents. The keys were nowhere to be found. Because everyone in the library knew Marion lost her keys once an hour they had given her a giant key ring with her name on it so that when someone found the keys they would be returned to her. The fact that no one found them most likely meant they weren’t in the library which left
Marion
’s car as the next logical place to search.

“Going to your car,” Liza called.
Marion
was on the phone, so she gave her a vague, dismissive wave.

Marion
’s car wasn’t difficult to spot, even in the crowded lot. Most of the other cars were neat and professional-looking sedans.
Marion
’s car was a revamped 1970’s VW Beetle with more dings than it probably had during its original lifetime. It was also still covered in a slurry of street salt even though winter was over months ago. Liza started on the driver’s side because it could usually be counted on to be clear, and today was no exception; the seat and floor were clear of debris. She made a quick search of them and moved on to the passenger side when she was finished.

She opened the door with a sigh. The pile of papers and trash reached almost to the top of the seat. The search could take all day, and it was sweltering outside.

“Marion, Marion,
Marion
,” Liza muttered. She leaned in and began to sift through the giant stack.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” an unnervingly familiar voice said from behind her. Startled, Liza jumped, overbalanced, and pitched forward onto the floor of the car. A mound of used napkins and fast food containers softened her fall. She twisted around to make sure her senses weren’t playing tricks on her; she hoped they were.

No such luck. Dirk’s cousin Sal stood looking down at her with his usual amused smirk. “Hey, Liza,” he said as if they had just bumped into each other in line at the bank.

“Hey, Sal.” She blinked up at him in confusion.

“Are you planning to steal this car or just the contents?” he asked.

She didn’t know him well enough to read his tone. Was he teasing her, or chastising her?

“I’m looking for my best friend’s keys.”

He nodded. “I can only hope this is her car.” He paused. “It’s a her, right? Or was it that guy I saw at your place this morning?”

Her teeth ground together. “It’s a her.” She was still in the uncomfortable position of lying on her back, except her feet were still facing forward, so she was twisted uncomfortably like a pretzel.

“You’re certainly flexible and full of surprises,” Sal said.

Liza didn’t reply to that odd statement. Instead she began the arduous process of trying to disentangle herself from the vehicle. Sal put down a hand and helped pull her up. As soon as she was able, she extricated her hand from his grasp and resisted the urge to wipe it on her skirt. There was something about Sal that made her uncomfortable, although she had no idea what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he kept catching her in ridiculously embarrassing situations.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I have a date,” he said.

“With a student?” she exclaimed. Surely he wouldn’t date someone so much younger. He was years older than her and Dirk.

He nodded. “She’s a senior, if that makes you feel any better.” His amused grin didn’t waiver. She was suddenly tempted to mash down hard on his foot, just to see if she could get him to stop smiling. As if sensing her thoughts his smile widened. “She just called to tell me she’s running late, though, so I have a little time. I don’t suppose you would want to grab a cup of coffee.”

Think, Liza, think,
she commanded herself. What excuse could she use to escape the ordeal of more time spent in his presence? “I need to search for my friend’s keys,” she said. Maybe it was lame, but it was true.
Marion
was counting on her to find her keys so she could go home. With as messy as the car was it might take the rest of the day.

“Those keys?” Sal pointed behind her. Liza turned and saw that her faceplant on the floor of the car had revealed the hidden keys.

“Yes, those,” Liza said. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but inside she was saying some very unkind things to the traitorous keys. “I just need to let
Marion
know where I’m going.” If she thought he might wait outside for her, it was a vain hope. He followed close on her heels as if he knew she found his presence unnerving.

“Did you find…”
Marion
’s words died off as she looked up and saw Sal. When Liza was confronted with someone as impossibly beautiful as Sal, she immediately clammed up and became self-conscious. Not so
Marion
. She understood that she had no hope with someone so physically perfect, so instead she immediately set herself up as the self-deprecating friend. “If he’s some sort of peace offering for not locating my keys, then well done. I’ll take him.”

Sal laughed in a way that let Liza know he’d had a lot of practice bantering with adoring females.

“This is Dirk’s cousin, Sal,” Liza introduced. “Sal, my best friend,
Marion
.”
Marion
stuck her hand over the desk and the two shook. “We were just going to grab a coffee, can you make it?” Liza’s eyes turned pleading. She was almost desperate for
Marion
to tag along, just so she wouldn’t have to be alone with Sal.

Marion
gave her a knowing smile. “You took so long finding my keys that I’m almost finished here. Let me just grab my purse.” She turned to the area behind her desk and began a frantic search for her bag.

Liza cleared her throat. When
Marion
turned she pointed to the bag that had been propped on the desk between them the entire time.
Marion
grabbed it with muttered disgust at her absentmindedness.

“We can take my car,” Sal volunteered. Liza stifled a groan. If she drove herself, she would be able to think up some excuse to cut the afternoon short, but now she would have to wait until everyone was ready to leave. But then she remembered he had a date to get to soon. He wouldn’t want to cut short his evening with a college senior for two dowdy twenty-somethings, would he?

Sal held the door for the ladies and put his hand to the small of Liza’s back to steer her through. Why did any touch from him make her want to stiffen and move away? True, she wasn’t used to being touched by anyone except Dirk, but still. There was something about Sal that made her particularly uncomfortable. Maybe it was the smug, amused expression on his face every time he looked at her, as if he knew a secret she wasn’t in on.

She bit her lip.
Did
he know a secret? He was Dirk’s closest friend and confidant. Was he laughing at Liza because he knew something about Dirk she didn’t?
Of course he knows more about Dirk than you do,
she told herself.
The IRS knows more about Dirk than you do.

Marion
and Sal were involved in lively small talk. She had discovered his date and was already teasing him about it.

“You’re taking out a college senior? Was everyone at preschool busy tonight?”

He flashed a quick smile in his rearview mirror before answering. “What can I say? I like them young. They’re pliant, and they don’t ask questions.”

Marion
made a gagging motion by sticking her finger down her throat, but Liza turned to her window with a frown. Why would he want someone pliant who doesn’t ask questions? Why did it seem like all the men of her acquaintance were petrified of being in a real, grown up relationship? Sal, Dirk, and even Link acted like being tied to a mature and responsible woman was a fate worse than death. She was suddenly very tired of the whole thing and ready to give up on the male gender entirely.

“What’s going on in that head, Miss Liza?” Sal asked.

“You don’t want to know,” she said.

“Oh, I think I do.” Again with the smug smirk.

“I was thinking about men,” she said.

“Does Dirk know you think about other men?” Was it possible that his face was permanently welded in a smirk and she had simply never noticed before? How else to explain it? She had sudden visions of the Joker in the
Batman
series.

“I have no idea what Dirk knows about me,” she said.

To her astonishment, his smile faltered. He blinked at her a couple of times before pasting the smile back on and turning to
Marion
. “What about you, Marion? Are you taken?”

“I am,” she replied. “I should have told you that in the beginning so you didn’t get your hopes up about me.”

He laughed and looked at Liza again. For the briefest second his eyes flickered with something like alarm, and then his smirk was back in place.

Liza turned to her window to hide her triumph. She was elated she had somehow managed to knock the smug smile from his face, however briefly, even though she had no idea how she had done it. A review of the conversation made her realize it was the mention of Dirk that had caused the shift. Was Sal’s newfound interest in her somehow connected to the conversation Dirk wanted to have with her? If so, why? What could possibly be so monumental that Sal would feel the sudden need to get close to Liza?

She thought of what Link had told her about Dirk’s finances. Maybe that was why Sal was suddenly so protective. Maybe he feared Dirk and Liza were becoming serious and he was making a last-ditch effort to find out if she was a gold digger.

Liza frowned. That didn’t make sense. Dirk was the one who was preoccupied with worrying about the safety of his finances. Sal dated girls who probably listed “gold digger” on their resumes. He and Dirk were close, but were they so close he would worry about Dirk’s girlfriend more than his own girlfriends?