Long Way

I raised an eyebrow at the large stack of folders that Ramon just dropped on my desk, then give the same look to Ramon. He gave me a shrug and a palms up gesture, then walked out of my cubicle.

I glance up at the clock and decide that there was no way that I was going to make it to my parent's place for dinner at six. But if I go quick, I might still make it for dessert and the bag of leftovers that was sure to follow. Willa and I will be rich bitches tonight.

My name is Diana LeBeau, and I work at a security firm that protects Boston's upper class' homes and small businesses. It's not the greatest job, but it keeps me from working as a bartender like my best friend, Sharon.

There are good things about my job, number one being my boss, Martin Petracelli. Just over six feet of hard, Italian muscle. His black hair is kept short, and his brown eyes are filled with life that I will probably never know about. He is very street smart, and business savvy. And he moves just as easily on the downtown streets of Boston, as he does in the boardroom speaking to potential clients... or in the bedroom.

Martin and I have always shared a certain chemistry. We've always flirted, and when he started his security firm, he made this job specifically for me to keep me close, I guess.

Martin ended up in my bed five days ago after we went together to a clients home to do some routine maintenance on a security system. We haven't really talked about it since, but it's one of those things that complicates my life.

I've been broken up with my on/off boyfriend, Declan, for close to two months. But he's been out of my life before, and he always manages to slide back in. And sleeping with Martin makes that more difficult. Not that I'm looking to reconcile anything with Declan.

I stood up from my desk and scooped up the stack of folders, and hauled them down the hall to Martin's office.

"Knock knock," I said, poking my head in the door. He briefly flicks his eyes to me, then averts his attention back to his computer screen.

"LeBeau," he said.

"Do you have a minute?"

"I've got all the time you need." I paused for a beat, taking in what he just said. Both of us well knowing that he wasn't just meaning time for our business related chat.

"LeBeau," he said, trying to get my attention.

"My mind drifted."

"As long as it always comes back. What did you need?" I walked over to his desk and dropped the stack of folders. He eyed them, then eyed me like I was dinner.

"What is this?"

"Ramon just put those on my desk. Do you know what time it is?"

"Babe, I am not having a good day."

"Well I'm sorry about that, but it's not my problem. It's five minutes to the end of my shift. You cannot possibly expect me to do all of this work." He gave me a dark look, then softened. For the first time I saw how stressed out he looked.

"Just do what you can and leave the rest for tomorrow. I really can't be bothered with that right now."

"I really am sorry that you're having a bad day." I feel like a tool now. I come in and totally add to his stress. He looks like he's thinking about smiling.

"It's not you're fault. So far you coming in here has been the best part of my day."

"I'll go now." I picked up the folders again and left his office without another word.

I worked for a little while, and the next thing I know, Martin is standing over me.

"Why aren't you at your mother's?"

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You always go to your mother's for dinner on Thursdays."

"Well not tonight. Willa and I are just going to settle for leftovers." He traced a small line across the back of my neck with his finger, sending chills down my spine.

"Stick around when you're done here. I need to talk to you about something."

"Alright," I said. He stood from where he had been leaning on my desk, and left my cubicle.

My office phone rings a second later.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." My best friend, Sharon.

Sharon is forty-three, works in a bar downtown that is frequented by the local riff-raff otherwise known as the people I went to school with, and has never been married. She has no kids either. She's a straight to the point, what you see is what you get type of person, and we get along great.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"On my way to work, so I thought I'd give you a call. You hear about your brother's latest scheme?"

"No, what is it?"

"He's opening a security firm targeting the upper class. Sound familiar?"

"Original idea. Where did you hear this?"

"Around." My oldest brother, Chad, has always been different from the rest of the family. My older sister was the warmest person you'd ever met in your life. And my little brother, as irresponsible and dingy as he is, couldn't hurt a fly. Chad was different though. He was always kind of cold. Always out for number one, and he has always acted like he was better than the rest of the family. Don't get me wrong, he's my brother and I love him. But I just try to avoid him as much as possible.

"So what's up with you?" Sharon asked me.

"Still at work. Then I'm gonna go to my parent's place and pick up some leftovers for me and Willa."

"You should come visit me afterwards."

"Maybe I will. I don't know. Jeremy is moving out today supposedly. We'll see if he actually did or not."

"Moving in with his latest 'amazing girlfriend?'"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"We'll see how long that one lasts."

"Exactly. I've got to get back to work, girl. I'll talk to you later."

"OK, bye."

"Bye." I disconnected with her and opened up the top file in the stack. Computer search on a potential employee. This is what the majority of my job is. Running computer searches on employee's, potential clients and the people that we're trying to protect them from, and every now and then I get to go to a clients home and give a woman's perspective on what I think needs to be done.

At six-thirty I shut my file and put my computer to sleep, then took the elevator up to Martin's apartment on the seventh floor. I used my key fob to open the door, and stepped inside the warm interior of the apartment. I smell food that I know was prepared by Mary, another employee of Martin's. Mary makes all of the food for the building, and also keeps it immaculate. I'm not sure how though because I never see her. She comes in and does her work without ever being seen. I guess it's a part of her job.

I walked into the kitchen and saw Martin ladling soup into two bowls. There was a bread basket on the counter, and a bottle of wine as well.

"Hello," I said to him. He glanced up at me and the corners of his mouth hinted at a smile.

"How much did you get done?" I shrugged and opened the bottle of wine, inspecting the label. My father is a wine junkie, so it's habit for me to check the label before I drink wine.

Martin carried the two bowls over to the table, so I follow with the bread and the bottle of wine.

"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Three of my clients homes have been broken into in the last month and a half. In all cases the clients had state of the art security systems. In all three cases the systems were shut down for exactly fifteen minutes and then turned back on. None of the clients were home at the time of the break-ins, and there was no sign of physical tampering."

"Someone hacked into your system?"

"No."

"That leaves an ugly possibility then."

"Only a few men in my firm have access to those codes, and I don't see any of them doing this."

"Have you changed the codes?"

"After every break-in."

"Yeesh."

"Yeah yeesh. Someone inside my firm is beating my system."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the only person that works for me who I can trust."

"Even Ramon?"

"Even Ramon."

"Wow."

"You've obviously been working for me for a while. Everyone knows that you're my personal property, so they aren't going to speak openly to you, but they also aren't going to think that I have you snooping for me."

"Your personal property?" I said with narrowed eyes.

"Only you would question it."

"I am NOT personal property. Cars, and shirts are personal property. A human being is not personal property!"

"In my firm, we share cars and shirts. We don't share women. In my building, you're my personal property. Get used to it."

"Fine. So what, I'm spying for you?"

"I just need another set of eyes and ears in the building that I can trust other than my own. Look, listen, pay attention. If anything strange jumps out at you, tell me." I nodded and drank the last sip of my wine.

"I should go," I said, standing up. He got up and followed me to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I told him. He grabbed me and pushed me against the door, his hands flat against my stomach, and pressed his lips against mine. He pulled away from me after a second, leaving me short of breath.

"Tempting," he said with his lips still brushing against mine. He opened his door and I walked out then without another word.

I took the elevator down to the underground parking garage and got into my black Toyota FJ Cruiser, that came with my job.

I drive straight to my parent's house and eat dessert while getting lectured by my mother about not showing up for dinner tonight, then she packs up my leftovers and sends me on my way.

On the drive back home I think about Declan. It's been a while since I've seen or heard from him, but I assume that any day now he'll pop back onto the radar, just like he always does.

Declan Desoto. Probably the love of my life when he decides to stick around. But he has a bad habit of leaving me in the middle of the night, and not calling or coming back around for awhile. Like right now.

Declan grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. His mother left him, his baby sister, and their father when he was young. And his father took it out on him pretty hard, kicking the piss out of him his whole life. I met Declan ten years ago right after my sister, Gina, passed away from brain cancer. He was a mess back then too, drinking a lot, and getting into fights. I was immediately attracted to him just because of this fact. He was a bad boy, and it distracted me from what was going on in my own life.

He usually comes running back to me when he gets in trouble on his own. He gets in with some bad people and needs to hide out, or he owes someone some money who will break his kneecaps in some dark alley somewhere if they don't get it.

Declan has lost most of the anger from his childhood, even though his father and him hardly have what you would call a healthy relationship. But he still hasn't lost the chip on his shoulder, and the willingness to do bad things.

I pulled into my driveway, setting off the motion light, and immediately Willa starts barking from in the house. Jeremy's car is no longer in the driveway, so I assume that he did what he said and moved out today.

I walked in the back door, letting Willa run past me to the back yard to do her business. When she's done, she runs back into the house, knowing that I have leftovers.

I crouched down and rubbed her down and gave her kisses, then I dug the leftovers that my mother sent home for us, out of the back, dishing some out for Willa. She greedily stands over her dish when I set it down, and scows it down in less than a minute. A lady she is not. When she finished she looked at me for more.

"I think not," I told her. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes and go visit Aunt Sharon. So you have to be a good girl while I'm gone, and we can have dessert when I get back, alright?" She cocked her head at me and smiled her big doggy smile. I gave her one last pat on the head, then went into my bedroom to change.

I got dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a stretchy little girl style v-neck t-shirt, and put my Bruin's hoodie on over it. Then went into the bathroom and fluffed up my wavy black hair. I'm 5'1, and weigh less than 100 pounds. I have c-cup breasts that I like to think are my best attribute, and if I took off the hoodie and added some more mascara, I could probably get laid tonight. But, getting laid wasn't high on my priority list, so I left the hoodie on. Mark Recchi could thank me later for wearing his good name on my back.

When I step out of my bedroom, I saw my nephew, Shawn sitting on the couch in my living room. He doesn't look up at me, probably not hearing me.

"How did you get in here?" I asked him. He looked up at me then. He's wearing jeans that are hanging off his ass and showing about two inches of the top of his boxers, and a black wife-beater. He looks alarmingly like my little brother, Travis.

"You gave me a key, remember?" he said.

"OK, so better question. Why are you here?"

"My dad is out of town for a while, I figured I would crash with you until he gets back."

"That's fine, Shawn. You know the rules, so I expect you to follow them."

"I always follow the rules, Aunt Didi." He gave me a charming smile. He's cute and he knows it, and uses it to his advantage whenever he can.

"You don't think I hear things? You don't think I didn't hear about how you and Uncle Travis were out joyriding yesterday during school hours? Which is especially concerning seeing how Travis doesn't have a car." Shawn snorted a laugh and I narrowed my eyes at him. So much for going out. I can't trust this kid by himself just yet.

Shawn is my sister Gina's kid. He's seventeen now, but he was only eight when she died. He lives with his father, Matthew now. But Matthew is an EMT driver, and works a lot of crazy hours and sometimes gets called to work at different hospitals. So Shawn comes and stays with me sometimes when his dad is out of town. Which I prefer he do so I can keep an eye on him. Shawn spends a lot of time with my little brother, Travis, who is in an 80's cover band and smokes a lot of pot while living in my parents basement. They're both completely irresponsible, so I have to keep an eye on them sometimes to make sure they aren't getting into any serious trouble.

I plopped down on the couch next to him and texted Sharon to let her know that I wont be stopping in to visit her tonight. Willa got up on the chaise lounge and laid down, and we all watched TV in silence for awhile.

"I'm going to bed," I told Shawn at twelve-thirty. "don't even think about leaving this house tonight." I kissed his forehead and he smiled at me.

"Good night, Aunt Didi."

Yeah, good night to you too, buddy. Like I need one more thing right now.