Cross the Line

Stephanie called that evening to let her know that they’d arrived in Miami; the surgery was planned for the next day. It’d still be a few days after the operation that they could even think of transporting him. But Steph informed her that they were looking at bringing him home on a stretcher as it would be days until he could sit comfortably for more than a few minutes.  The insurance companies were battling over the pros and cons of staying in the US of travelling. Both were extortionately expensive and she was hopeful that they would be home sooner rather than later.

Happier knowing that things were in motion, Naomi called Emma and invited her around for dinner, the added fact that she’d got Bridesmaids on DVD convinced Emma to leave her home for her friend’s house.

                “So how was it with Hunky?” Emma asked, after arriving, she’d dived in and helped herself to a large bowl full of Chilli con carne. “Wow this is good!” she added scooping a fork of food into her mouth before accepting a glass of wine and looking at her friend patiently. The previous evening they’d debriefed for a long while by phone and Emma had tried to help her salvage some sort of professional grace out of the whole debacle.

                “By Hunky I presume you mean O’Neill? He was ok. I did think it might be a bit awkward after yesterday, but he seems to have remembered how to be civil and grown up!”

Emma laughed out loud, “you’re not exactly the most rational person, and you lead with your bloody heart and have been known to jump the gun yourself. So take a breather, ok?”

Naomi laughed, “a rose-tinted insult?” she waggled her eyebrow and Emma laughed.

                “Whilst I’m eating this divine chilli? Nope you’re a legend!”

They watched the film and chuckled all the way through it, and Naomi finally started to forget the trauma of the recent disruption 

Naomi managed to scrape through the next week without really being alone with Conor for any great length of time. Thought when they were together she did spend a lot of time watching him. When he wasn’t looking. She hated that she found him fascinating, he was a pig, she knew that, but there was something about him that intrigued her. He asked questions, demanded files, and finally seemed to realise she was actually valuable in some way. Gloria was planning to start coming back to work as soon as she could walk, but that was still a few weeks away. The end of the week saw three different cases have court time, so Conor was actually out of the office most of the time, and all too soon it was the weekend.  

Steph called the following Tuesday evening to say Simon’s op had been a success. She was still petrified, but getting the insurance details had been a great relief. The following evening another late call revealed he was being flown home to a local hospital. Despite all the family and friends who’d been lining up to see him, Stephanie insisted that Simon was desperate to see her, Naomi wanted to see him too, just to see for herself that he was recovering. So after taking down the details, she headed for an early night, hoping to make it to the hospital as soon as he got back.

Saturday morning he was home. It took ages to find the orthopaedic ward in the huge City teaching hospital. Eventually she found Steph outside a closed door drinking coffee.

                “How is he?” She asked as she was devoured in a hug by the woman who’d become a good friend.

Steph eventually stepped back, “it was a long journey. We’re both shattered...he’s getting more feisty so you can tell he’s feeling more himself. Go in if you like; he’ll be really glad to see you.”

                “And you? Are you coping?”

She nodded through a veil of tears, “I just keep crying, I think it’s a delayed reaction. I’m only now able to process the shock!”

Naomi took her hands and smiled, “you’ve been so bloody strong, and done this all alone, you are allowed to cry, and now you’re back there are a lot of people who can take the strain for you. If you need anything...just ask, ok? Do you want to go get a rest? I can sit here for a while.”

                “I wouldn’t mind some food, and maybe a trip to the bathroom.” And with Naomi bidding her away, a little relieved that someone was stepping into the role of caring for him, she disappeared.

He looked deathly pale against the white room and white sheets; she could see that the trauma of the fall, the surgery and all the travelling had really taken it out of them.

                “God Simon!” she rushed across to take his hand in her hers, stooping to drop a kiss on his cheek. “I’d like to say you look well...”

He smiled weakly, “I know, what a wedding present, hey? How are you? Have you managed to cope? Why didn’t you tell me Gloria broke her leg? We’re a right bunch aren’t we?”

                “Don’t worry about me, that’s the last thing you need to do. How are you feeling?”

He sighed, “Well I’ve been well medicated since the operation, it’s only now that I’m starting to have some discomfort. But it could’ve been a lot worse. So how are you getting on with Conor? I wish he could’ve made it to the wedding, then you’d have had more chance to get to know him. This wouldn’t have been such a shock...but I suppose...” he sighed. “If he hadn’t been off travelling he’d not be able to drop everything to pick up the pieces.” He looked at the ceiling and bit his lip and it pained Naomi to see tears in his eyes. But the truth was without Conor Simon’s life work would be destroyed.

Naomi tried not to let her sympathy show, “you’re so organised that ANYONE could have rescued the office. You know that!”

The smile in response was strained and accompanied by a pain spurred gasp, “And is work ok? The Palmer and the Osborne cases?”

                “All in hand, honest!” she stroked his hand earnestly; “don’t worry about it.”

“If you don’t tell me I’ll worry more!” he offered.

So lowering herself into a chair to be level with him, and still holding his hand, she proceeded to fill him in on the comings and goings of the office in great detail. Every now and again he’d become quiet and she knew he was in pain, but he encouraged her to carry on. And it seemed to be the tonic he needed; he was calmer and definitely more comfortable as she spoke.

“That’s it!” she announced. “I’ve told you everything. Now you’re looking tired, I’ll leave you for a bit. Steph’s around somewhere, I won’t leave until she’s here, ok?”

                “Thanks Naomi, you are my absolute star, you know that?” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, “I’ll make it up to you one day, ok?”

She leaned down to kiss his cheek, “Don’t be daft, I love working for you, now get well love, I don’t like seeing you looking so ill!”

As she straightened up she heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Conor leaning against the door jamb, a scowl across his face. It wasn't pleasant seeing a friend looking so rough.

                “Hey O’Neill! Get over here, let me thank you for stepping into the hot seat!” Simon turned briefly back to Naomi, “keep in touch, I’m relying on you!”

Deep in thought, but relieved at finally seeing Simon, she wandered through the hospital calling briefly to the newsagent in the foyer, picked up a sandwich and newspaper, then headed to the bus stop, she planned to head into town and do some window shopping. She wasn’t in a position where she could buy that much, but she was happy with looking.

The timetable told her the bus would be fifteen minutes, so she settled on a bench in the warm morning sun and opened the paper. Her reading had got as far as page five when a car pulled up in front of her, a low slung sporty saloon. The electric window buzzed down to reveal her nemesis Conor O’Neill.

                “Get in Naomi; I’m heading your way."

She scowled, “I’m not going home, I’m heading to town...Thanks all the same.”

                “Then I’m going that way too!” He snapped, not moving the car. “Jump in or I’ll have to get out and drag you in!”

There were already a few other people gathered at the bus stop, and several sets of eyes were on her as she stared at Conor. He merely tapped impatiently on the steering wheel as he waited for her to move. The desire to not cause a scene was the reason she moved, and nothing else. He had a glare, a real anger had swept like a dark hood across his face, but she wasn’t scared. She was irked at the least, livid and furious at best. How dare he command her like some Victorian father?

He hit the accelerator as soon as she closed the door and she was flung back into the seat heavily. She turned towards him, but he was concentrating on the road his knuckles white gripping the steering wheel. Anger emanating from every pore and the atmosphere in the car was thick and moody.

It was the most uncomfortable ten minutes of her life, as he ignored her and drove hard. Suddenly he swerved into a street, just off the main road leading to town.

                “You could at least try and hide it Naomi, flaunting yourself...” the words were bad enough, but they were accompanied by such a look of disgust that it shook her to the core.

                “Excuse me?” she refused to let him finish. She could barely comprehend his words. “Are you daring to suggest what I think you are?” She was both angry and embarrassed; her relationship with Simon was like that of brother/sister. Yes they were close, but there was nothing wrong with that, and she wasn’t about to justify anything to him of all people.

Conor gripped her wrist forcibly, “if I can see the signs after being here just a few days, then everyone else must. Poor Steph!”

She snatched her hand away from him and reared up in his face, determined not to back down, “you are disgusting Conor O’Neill! You make me feel sick! These are my friends. That is all. And I don’t have to explain myself to someone like you!” As she tried to open the door he activated his central locking.

                “Don’t even try and run away from me! I am a friend of Simon’s and I introduced him to Stephanie who is actually my cousin. So I have EVERY right to step in and comment on this absolute disgrace!”

Shaking her head, Naomi tried desperately to control her temper, and it wasn’t easy, she’d always had a quick temper, and this man was pushing her beyond belief, “who the bloody hell do you think you are? Not only are you completely out of order, you are also way, way off the mark. Now let me out of this car before I call the police!”

Without answering, Conor turned the car abruptly and headed back on to the main road. He’d expected guilt, some sign of it, but she was either a brilliant actress, or he really was wrong. But he’d seen them with his own eyes, when he had stepped into that hospital room the two of them were there, heads together...and he’d seen red. There was a certain intimacy between them, a closeness that was wholly inappropriate. Wasn’t there? Conor rarely doubted himself, but now he wasn’t so sure. He needed to calm this situation before he made a complete hash of it.

Naomi could hardly see for her anger, “Mr O’Neill. Stop this car now or I will call the police. I cannot believe this.”

He glanced at her briefly, a scowl scarring his rugged features, “We are going to the apartment, I am not letting you go until you explain things to me.”

“You can’t do this! Let me go!” Naomi had never been so angry. “This is tantamount to kidnap!”

Scoffing he shook his head and pulled onto the road heading out to the suburb which was home to Simon’s flat.

Swinging the car into the basement car park, he rushed around to open her door, securing her before she could run off, his hand at her elbow was firm and she was pressured towards the lift.

They rode up in silence, Naomi reluctant to make a scene in public, especially when the doors opened at one of the floors and an older couple joined them making small talk about the weather.  Conor took her apparent calmness for some form of surrender, so as he closed the door behind them, he turned to her smiling, “Tea? Coffee?”

                “A drink?” she screamed, punching wildly in the direction of his body, happy with any contact her erratic blows made. “You have just dragged me halfway across town against my will, accused me of improper behaviour with one of my best friends and boss.  Then after breaching every trust imaginable, you offer me a drink! You are seriously deluded!”

                “Maybe I was a little rash?” he gave her an awkward smile.

                “A little rash?  I would say that was the biggest understatement I have ever heard! That ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ smile might turn others into a gibbering and agreeable wreck, but I am NOT a doe-eyed girl, I may be blonde, but I am dumb, nor am I a soft touch. Give me ONE reason why I shouldn’t call the police. Go on?” She reached into her bag and pulled out her mobile. Just as she started to order a taxi, he took the phone from her hand, instantly disconnecting the call.

Sensing he had overstepped the mark, he wanted to make things right, they had to work together after all, “Let me drive you home. I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that. It’s none of my business...”

This time he failed to see her hand as she instinctively lashed out and the crack as she hit his cheek was deafening. She took a step back, regretting her impulsive behaviour; random blows to his chest were a little different to this crack across the face. His face was like thunder as his fingers splayed across the reddening skin of his cheek.

Suddenly Naomi felt scared, not of him, but the intensity of her own feelings, her own actions, so she spun around and dashed out through the door. She almost ran into the street, panting her location to the taxi operator via her mobile, she was jogging down the street when the taxi arrived, and she dived in gratefully.  As she gave her address, she looked back to the block of flats and saw Conor watching her from the window. She met his gaze, then shook her head quickly, not wanting to see the disappointment, accusations and anger in his eyes.

Naomi tried to catch up with her housework, but couldn’t concentrate, she felt sick. She couldn’t believe that she had lost control like that. It was so out of character, her friends always told her she had a short fuse, but she battled to keep control of her temper. She’d attempted to hit him, and now actually hit him, all in less than two weeks. But he had pushed her!

None of this in anyway explained or excused Conor’s actions. The man was a complete bastard, immoral, and SO wide of the mark. But however she felt about Conor personally, he was digging Simon out of a huge hole, and from that point of view keeping her in a job. She had to be professional and work with him for as long as it took. When Simon was well enough to work, she would never have to see him again. She had to make this her mantra every day that she had to tolerate him.

It was Saturday night, Emma was out with her boyfriend, and Naomi couldn’t imagine spending the night in dwelling on all that had happened, and wondering how things would be come Monday. It was almost divine inspiration when there was a knock at her door at seven. Her neighbour Sarah stood there smiling and the smile passed to Naomi as she explained a group of her friends were heading to the local pub. Naomi jumped at the chance; it was just what she needed.

A glass of wine, became several, became a trip into town to a club. It was there she bumped into Emma and her boyfriend Tom, Naomi could’ve almost cried with relief at the sight of her friend. Taking one look at Naomi, Tom was dispatched to the bar, and Emma found a secluded booth to be brought up to speed with the day’s events. Tom spotting the drama and tears gave them a wide berth, not wanting to be party to the hormones and fuss. There was nothing as effective a reality check as a best friend telling you how it was.

                “He deserved the slap really Naomi, it’s not great to show you lost it, but what can he do? Sack you? Hardly! It’ll be awkward come Monday, but he’s the one who needs to say sorry love, definitely not you, just remember that ok?”

Naomi wiped away the tears that the alcohol consumed had brought to the surface, “but what if he tells Simon?”

Emma laughed, “tell him what exactly? That he accused you of having affair? That you slapped him after he all but kidnapped you? I know Simon! He’d hit this Conor himself!”

When they left the club an hour later Naomi was bolstered by her friend’s words and felt tons better.

                “Thanks Tom!” Naomi hugged him as they walked to a nearby takeaway. “I needed a friend tonight! Sorry that meant you were Billy No Mates!”

He laughed, “more than happy to give you a wide berth. If you’re that grateful, then you could always buy my supper!”

Naomi chuckled, slipping an arm around his elbow, “I’m grateful, not stupid!”

Emma’s advice had been both simple and exactly right. She and Conor hadn’t hit it off from day one for lots of reasons, his actions weren’t acceptable, but then she wasn’t in a position to condemn him because she’d been no better. A white flag and the offer of a truce was the way forward. And it had to start the next working day. Simple.