Blue Page 16

  And then it happened. An absurdly bright light turned on across the street that caught us both off guard.

  “Jesus! What the hell?” Zack squinted, moving in front of me to act as a shield.

  “Calm down. It’s a motion light.” And then I saw what he was talking about. A glint of something silver shone under the moonlight in the distance along with a silhouette. I wasn’t panicked. Not a bit.

  “That is not a motion light,” Zack said. That’s a fucking supernova.”

  I looked across the street and squinted. “It’s just Ralph.”

  “Just Ralph. Got it.”

  The momster’s neighbor stood at the edge of his driveway, wearing his brown bathrobe while spinning the handle of his hatchet. And that wasn’t a euphemism. The man had a giant silver axe he toted around the neighborhood when he was out on walks. It was like carrying a Swiss Army knife on steroids. I guess I was still immune to his craziness, even after being gone for nearly two years.

  “You two haven’t met?” I asked. “He’s lived here forever.”

  “Uhhh. No,” Zack replied. “And I don’t think I need to with that blade slung over his shoulder.”

  “He’s harmless. Ralph is …different,” I said, searching for the right word.

  “You could say that again,” he replied. “Does he always stand outside in his bathrobe at two in the morning to blind people?”

  “Pretty much. Nighttime. Daytime. He doesn’t discriminate.”

  “Fucking bizarre,” Zack replied.

  I kept my voice low, about to release another story sober Blue wouldn’t usually reveal. “Could be worse. A few years ago, he brought over a wheelbarrow with a dead animal in it and a giant grin on his face.” I paused and thought about my words. “Ralph had the grin, not the animal. Anyway, the gunshot wound had blown half its face off. Said he wanted to show me what a coyote looked like, so I’d know what to look out for in the neighborhood. That was no coyote; it was a domestic dog. Honestly, I think it was Clarabelle’s down the street. He skinned that sucker and dried the pelt out on the side of his house. The damn thing was tied down to the oven rack from his kitchen and propped up against the siding for three weeks.”

  Ralph loudly whistled the theme song to a horror flick while he paced the edge of his driveway.

  Zack shifted his weight. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave you here alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I turned and faced the street. “It’s okay, Ralph!” I waved and glanced at Zack. “You, on the other hand, might want to watch yourself.”

  “You sure? I can stay, if you want.”

  Ralph spun the hatchet around faster with a scowl on his face, the silver of the blade flashing in the moonlight again as he stared Zack down.

  “I’m good. Really,” I reassured Zack.

  Ralph pointed at his eyes with his index and middle finger, turning his hand to aim the same gesture at Zack before heading back toward his house. Darkness returned when he turned off his porch light.

  “You should probably go,” I said. “He’s pretty protective for a neighbor. And he’s gun happy…even though his aim sucks.”

  “And he’s got a permit?”

  “Ehhh…doubtful.”

  Once Zack was certain Ralph was out of view, his attention turned back toward me again with his inhibitions absent. “Where were we?”

  “You were going home.” I glanced toward his truck.

  My momentary lapse in being alert was long enough for him to execute his next move. He lifted my chin with his curled index finger as he brushed my hair out of my face and leaned in, closing in on most of the remaining distance between us. “You know, I could stare at those eyes all night long and into the next morning.”

  Before my brain could process what was happening and I could protest, his lips captured mine. As his kiss demanded more with the soft tip of his tongue, all I could think about was Adam. Sweeping the dark hair out of his face with my fingers. Breaking down the anger behind his eyes. Somehow turning that scowl into a smile. Wondering what his lips tasted like. Zack did nothing for me. His warm hands cupped my face when I tried to back up, and I think he interpreted it as a game of playing hard to get.

  His tongue probed at my lips again, and I pulled away more firmly. “I should go.”

  “You sure?” His tone was both velvet and edged with steel. “We could head back to my place.”

  The world swayed a little and so did my judgment. Damn the alcohol. My mouth opened, but I bit my tongue. “No. I’m sure.”

  He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Until Tuesday?”

  Shit. I’d forgotten about the party. Whether I liked it or not, I was stuck seeing Zachary Main again. “Sure. Tuesday.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “’Night.”

  I watched Zack walk back to the driver side of his truck without breaking eye contact with me. My heart pounded in my chest, impatiently waiting until I saw him take off down the street. The tension released from my shoulders. Finally! I could breathe again.

  Still on edge, I walked back to the mother-in-law house, showered off Fill & Spill stink, and got ready for bed while my ears rang. It could’ve been from the loud music, or it could’ve been from my brain’s inability to shut down. I felt too sick to care about much that happened that night, but I had a feeling I’d have regrets the next day.

  * * *

  The following morning, I woke up with a monstrous headache and the fuzzy hint of dairy-tinged alcohol in my mouth. I smacked my lips and frowned. And then I remembered Zack. The aftertaste his kiss left in my mind was far worse than the alcohol I’d drank.

  I rubbed my eyes. “Why, Blue?”

  After a quick shower and beating myself up over every word from the prior night in my head, I got dressed in clothing deemed professional and headed toward the house. My mother stood in the kitchen, her figure distorted through the rain-covered window. I wasn’t ready to deal with confronting her yet with my hangover in tow, so I started to walk down to The Lean, Mean, Coffee Bean for a post-drunken stupor remedy. For once, Ralph wasn’t in sight as I took off down the street.

  When I walked in the door of the café, I saw Zack sitting at a table for two, reading the sports page of the local newspaper.

  My plan to sneak in and back out undetected went belly up when he glimpsed me over the top of the sports section. “Hey, you.”

  “Don’t you ever go home?” I asked, shuffling past him and toward the end of the line.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He stood up and trailed after me. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Great. Me too,” I replied. Thank goodness. A weight had been taken off my shoulders. We were on the same page and could admit our kiss was a mistake. Better yet, we could move on with our lives, never to discuss it again.

  “Listen, it’s about the party tomorrow,” he said.

  Yes! Things were looking up, and he was about to break off our date! Maybe I wasn’t cursed after all!

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’m really glad you brought it up. I shouldn’t be going with—”

  “I had to change the venue,” he cut me off.

  “Change the venue? Wait. I thought the party was to show off the remodel you’d done on your house.”

  “It was. And don’t get me wrong. I was stoked to display all of the modifications I made since last year.”

  “But?”

  “I had an unexpected visitor last night who stunk up my plans.”

  The only visitor I could think of might be Ms. Endless Legs. “So, why the change?”

  “It’s kind of embarrassing. One of the construction guys, who I employ, didn’t cover up a hole in the crawl space before he left to go home. Long story short, a skunk got in the house and marked his territory. It’
s a foul mess in there. I’m not sure Steele Falls has enough tomato juice to help. Exterminator said it’s an easy fix, but it’ll take a few days. With the party being tomorrow? I don’t have that kind of time on my hands.”

  “That does stink.”

  “Literally. It wasn’t what I expected to go home to last night. That’s for sure.”

  His tone left me wondering if it was a dig at me for not asking him to stay the night.

  My defenses with him were raising like walls of a fortress. But with his next statement, they were threatening to falter again.

  “Anyway, you remember Adam, right?”

  “Yes?” I squeaked, trying to keep my tone sound from sounding as unsure as possible.

  “So, the party’s going to be at his house. That guy’s bailing me out big time here. He’s pretty reclusive when it comes to anyone coming over, but it’s too late for me to reschedule with the caterer.”

  I nodded and pretended to fix my hair.

  Zack continued, “It’ll be perfect though. On the beach. The weather should hold up before the storm rolls through in a couple of days. Plus, I told him it’d be mostly outdoors, so no one would track sand inside.”

  “So, Adam’s house?”

  “Is that an issue?” He furrowed his brow.

  Was he fucking kidding? The last place I wanted to be was near where Adam Rockwell lived. I mean, I knew I had drunken visions of what it’d be like to kiss him the night before, but it was a moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment because of the alcohol. I was back to being sober. Straight and narrow. Besides, with my luck his place would be booby-trapped, I’d be thrown into some hole in the floor, and I’d never be seen again. “No, not a problem,” I lied.

  “Ahhhhh. I get it now.” Zack nodded.

  “Y…you do?”

  “Sure. You don’t know where he lives. Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up. It’ll be great. We can go for a walk on the beach when the festivities die down.”

  Even Zack used the word “die” when he talked about Adam. If that wasn’t foreshadowing, I didn’t know what was.

  “We can bring a blanket and a bottle of wine,” he continued. “I know this romantic little spot.”

  “Yeah. Sounds great.”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got to go. Work meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a quick peck on the cheek, he headed toward the door.

  What happened, I wondered to myself. The kiss on the cheek almost felt more personal than when his tongue tried to climb down my throat the night before. He paused near a mirror at the doorway and adjusted his tie.

  Tie.

  Ty.

  Oh, no.

  I glanced at the clock as I placed my order for ginger tea with a side of dry toast. My heart stuttered. “Shit!” I only had fifteen minutes to get across town for my meeting with Ty.

  I hurried out the door and raced across town with a pounding headache, a hot cup of tea, glancing at my watch every thirty seconds, all while trying to find some way to slow time down. It was the epitome of multi-tasking.

  * * *

  Twelve minutes later, I scuttled up the pathway to Brennan Construction and took a fraction of a second to admire the massive building in my sweaty splendor. There were three minutes to spare until nine o’clock. When I’d left Steele Falls, the company was taking off, the main office a small portable. Times had changed though. My uncle’s eye for detail and the risks he took with architectural design made him one of the most sought-after outfits in the area. His name was associated with a handful of celebrities, and I’d read a few articles in magazines about his jobs being in high demand.

  I walked through the front doors and up to a Cherrywood reception desk where a redheaded woman talked on a cordless headset. Her name read ‘Rita’ in black bold font on a simple gold tag. She held up her index finger toward me as she continued her phone conversation. “No, Mr. Brennan is currently unavailable.” A nod. “Yes, I’ll tell him you called, and I’ll send the email immediately.” She pushed a button on her headset to end the call.

  Looking up at me, she asked, “How can I help you?”

  I rocked back on my heels. “I’m here to see Ty Brennan.”

  Rita clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she tapped a “no soliciting” sign five times with the tip of an ink pen. “That’s so cute, sweetie.” Her expression was condescending. “We’re not interested in buying your cookies. Why don’t you try the gym across the street? Those ladies are always stuffing their faces in the parking lot before and after aerobics class.”

  “I’m twenty-three, and I’m not here to sell you anything,” I replied, fighting the glare on my face.

  Rita looked at me and folded her hands with a sugar-coated smile. “Well, I assure you we’re not interested in your organized religion, whatever it may be.”

  “Well, I assure you I’m not interested in hearing your judgmental assumptions.”

  “Aren’t you a little spitfire?” Rita huffed. “I’m certain Mr. Brennan is too busy for your funny business. Should I call security or can you find your way to the exit all by yourself like a big girl?”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Well, then shoo.” Rita made a motion, dismissing me with her hand before she removed her headset.

  I remained still.

  “Look, his schedule is full this week. Maybe if you call back later today,” she paused, skimming a calendar with a pointy red fingernail, “I can land you a five-minute meeting with him three weeks from Tuesday. He’s a very busy man.”

  I leaned across the slick surface of the desk, bracing either side with my palms. “Tell him his niece is here,” I whispered. “He’ll know what it means.”

  “Niece?” Rita’s face paled from freckled and rosy red to pallid white. “You’re…” her voice trailed off.

  “Blue Brennan? I am. Now, if you’d call Ty and tell him his bible-thumping macaroon-selling niece is here, I’d greatly appreciate it. If you’re lucky, I’ll say a prayer for you tonight while I’m brushing cookie crumbs off my pillow.”

  With shaky fingers, Rita jabbed a series of buttons on her phone. “Mr. Brennan?” her voice squeaked. “Blue is here to see you.” A pause. “Yes, sir. I’ll send her right up.”

  I crossed my arms. “Well?”

  “Elevator bank, third floor, office at the end of the corridor.”

  “Thanks.” I turned and headed down the hall.

  “Oh! And Ms. Brennan?” Rita called out after me.

  I stopped and turned around.

  “Can we keep this whole cookie religion conversation between us?” She batted her eyes.

  “Of course. We’ll keep it between the three of us.”

  “Three of us?” Rita looked confused.

  “Sure thing. You, me, and the big guy upstairs.” I pointed at the ceiling with my index finger. “I’ll let you figure out whether I’m talking about Ty or God.”

  Rita’s face blanched and her jaw dropped as I walked away.

  The elevator was at the end of the hall, a current pop song playing softly in the background as the cabled box whirred, sending me upward. If anything, my uncle was trendy. No dated classical music was in earshot.

  With clammy hands, I knocked three times.

  “Come in,” a deep, male voice said.

  Be cool. Sell yourself.

  I opened the door and saw my uncle on a phone call with his hand cupped over the speaker.

  “I’ll be a minute.”

  I walked in and surveyed my surroundings. It was comfortable, the polar opposite of Price’s frigid office. Plush carpeting. Warm colors. Stylish artwork. Concrete walls. Rounded light fixtures. I sat down on an oversized bench chair and patiently waited for him to finish his phon
e call.

  Thirty seconds later, the receiver met the cradle with a defining click.

  “Blue!” Ty’s face lit up once he’d exited work mode. Pushing back from his desk, he stood up and walked over, motioning for me to give him a hug. The smell of spicy cologne and black coffee was calming and lingered in his wake. I studied my uncle, who was a spitting image of my father, as I’d been told. Tall. Thin. Dark-colored hair, styled with a generous amount of gel. His white button-up shirt was crisp, accented with a blue tie and matching suspenders. A complementing jacket was draped over the back of his office chair that matched his trendy, denim slacks. All of it suited him. “How are things?” he asked.

  “They’re…okay.”

  “God, Tom just died.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question and insensitive.”

  “No, really. It’s all right,” I assured him.

  “I’m still floored you’re here. In Steele Falls of all places. And my condolences to hear about why you’re back. The circumstances of your visit suck.”

  Tom was a topic I didn’t want to discuss, so I decided to be blunt. “I’m looking for a job.” There they were—all of my cards laid out in a row.

  His eyes lit up with a hint of laughter behind them. “You don’t waste any time, do you? I like that.”

  My face reddened.

  “So, does that mean you’re coming back to Steele Falls permanently? That’s great news for your—”

  “No!” My exclamation was louder than I’d intended. “I mean, do you have any positions that can be handled remotely. Computer work? Personal assistant? Accounting? I’ll take anything.”

  He looked thoughtful as he stroked the goatee on his chin. “What kind of experience do you have? Are you currently employed?”