by Hamel, B. B.
I watch him leave, heading down the steps. I smile as I shut the door behind him and slowly let out a breath.
Shit. I shouldn’t have brought him in here like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. He could easily see Nova and start making connections in his brain.
Hell, I need to stop seeing him entirely. I can’t get attached, can’t get drawn in. He seems to want something from me and I just don’t think I’m there yet. I don’t think I’m ready.
God, I have to be smart. I can’t risk this, not now. Things are going good for me. I’m getting back into the groove at work and Nova’s doing great. I can’t risk making some stupid mistake like getting involved with her SEAL father.
I don’t know what to do. I head inside, mind whirling. That man out there is tempting, so tempting, and it’s obvious I can’t resist.
I’d better learn though, and fast, because I don’t think Abel is stopping anytime soon.
6
Abel
Less than a week later, I find myself wearing my dress uniform and standing outside another banquet hall, wondering what the fuck I’m doing with myself.
I figured the brass wouldn’t want some idiot like me back out there trying to raise money. I mean, I wasn’t great at it the first time. But then Commander Bailey called and told me I had a new assignment.
“It’ll be easy,” he says. “Smaller group this time. You go in, you smile, you tell jokes. You say a few words up on that there podium, tell those rich fucks to open up their checkbooks and jot down something with a few zeros behind it. Get it?”
“I get it,” I said.
And so here I am, standing outside, and I realize for the first time in my life that my commanding officer lied straight up.
This isn’t smaller. Well, I guess it might be a little smaller, but there are at least a hundred people inside the rented event space. It’s a nice space right on the edge of downtown and I swear I recognize some of the same white caps from last time. I guess these old rich people love coming out and pretending like they give a shit about us military folk.
I sigh and wish that I smoked. At least that would give me an excuse to stand outside and away from all these people.
“You look nervous.”
I clench my jaw, ready with a quick comeback. I turn my head and there’s Lily, standing a few feet away with a smile on her face.
Instantly, everything seems okay.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her.
“I could say the same to you.”
“I was assigned this.” I gesture at the people. “Guess I’m their token military man.”
“Well, I guess I’m on the military beat, because I’m writing this up for the paper.”
I grin at her. “You do have a lot of experience these days.”
She rolls her eyes. “Good one.”
“Thanks.”
She comes over and stands next to me. “Why do you look nervous, anyway?”
“I don’t get nervous,” I growl. “I’ve been shot at, throw out of a helicopter, blown up, you name it. I don’t get nervous.”
“You look nervous.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you speaking or something?”
I turn away from her and don’t answer right away.
She lets out a laugh. “Oh my god. They have you speaking.”
“Don’t,” I say, wincing.
“Oh, god, Abel. What were they thinking?”
I give her a look. “That’s what I was asking myself.”
She laughs again, clearly delighting in my damn misery. She nudges me. “You’re lucky I’m here,” she says.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m a journalist. I mean, I don’t write speeches but I can help.”
“I bet you can.”
“Seriously. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I grumble but I know she’s right. I guess public speaking isn’t my thing. I’d rather be out on a night raid, my life in danger, than standing up and talking to these people.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you a drink.”
She weaves her arm through mine and we walk into the venue together. Lily looks amazing in this pale blue gown. She looks like she belongs in this place with her hair up in this immaculate bun thing. She’s not wearing the gaudy and expensive jewelry that some of these women have on, but she looks understated and elegant.
I can’t help but feel proud to have her on my arm.
We go to the bar and I get a whiskey while she gets some champagne.
“Okay, now, you know the naked trick?” she asks me.
“Sure. I picture everyone naked.”
“Right. Don’t do that.” She glances around with a smile. “Lots of old people in here. I don’t want you laughing or something like that.”
I grin at her. “How do you know I’m not into that?”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Are you?”
“Nah. You’re not old yet, so it’s not my thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, now, do you have anything written down?”
I shake my head. “I was just going to talk about duty, and loyalty, and answering the call, and duty.”
“Snooze.” She sighs. “Drink more.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I take another big sip.
“Okay, now, let’s work on your speech.”
We huddle together in a corner while the room mills about. I should probably be mingling but I don’t care. I’m too busy talking to Lily, strategizing about what I’m going to say up there.
And I realize I’m having fun. I didn’t think I’d come to this stuffy ass bullshit and actually enjoy myself, but here I am, smiling and laughing. It’s because of Lily, I know, but still. She’s so easy to talk to. I’m pretty lucky she appeared out of nowhere.
The program starts and we’re forced to go sit at separate tables.
“That’s my editor over there,” she says, nodding at an older man sitting with another group. “So I have to go sit with him. Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, nodding at her as an usher comes over toward me. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, sailor.”
I wink at her and follow the usher away. He leads me to the stage and I stand off to the side as someone introduces me, rattling off all my accomplishments from a list in front of her.
I haven’t heard half that stuff before, but apparently I’m a decorated war hero. Huh, go figure.
When she’s done, the room’s applauding and I walk out into the spotlight. I stand up there looking out over the crowd and I wonder all over again why the hell the brass would want me up here, of all people.
I take a deep breath. And I picture the room naked.
Well, no, not the room. Just one person, one gorgeous girl sitting toward the back next to her editor. She’s smiling and she nods at me like she knows I can do this.
So I picture her naked and I talk.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say. “I’ll be honest with you folks. I’ve been shot at, thrown from a helicopter, blown up, but speaking up here tonight is the most important thing I’ve ever done.” I pause for a second, letting that sink in. “Folks, men and women like me risk their lives every day overseas to protect the freedoms we take for granted. When they come home…”
I talk about the problems vets face, but I also tell stories. I tell funny stories and even a sad story. As I get talking, I completely lose any sense of fear or nervousness. I’m just talking at this point.
Finally, I get to the end of my speech. I don’t know how long I went, but people are still staring at me. I can tell I still have their attention.
“So, folks, to sum it all up. Open your checkbooks and write a number with a lot of zeros, because the men and women in my stories tonight are real people and really need your help. Thanks and God bless.”
I step away from the podium as the crowd erupts into applause.
I frown at them and wonder if t
hey’re joking or something. I just told some bullshit stories like Lily told me to. I talked to them like I’d talk to anyone at a bar, expect I also asked them for money.
And they’re applauding like I did something great.
I turn and leave the stage, still baffled by the response. I expected some polite clapping, but getting those white caps up onto their feet…
Well, that must’ve been a good speech.
I head to the bar and get a drink. As soon as I get it, I’m swamped by people I’ve never met before.
They all want to know if it’s true, the stories I told. Of course they’re fucking true, I say. I have a few other stories I couldn’t talk about up on that stage, if you wanna hear them. Just write a big check first.
And they laugh. They think I’m funny, charming even. I don’t get it. I’m telling them to write checks and they’re laughing like it’s hilarious.
The night’s a blur. I don’t get drunk, but I am passed from one group to another. They’re all singing my praises like I told the best speech they ever heard in their long lives.
I’m pretty tired as the night wears on and I keep looking for Lily. I spot her a few times, but she either disappears before I can get to her, or she’s already deep in conversation with other people.
Eventually though, an older man in a cheap suit and a mustache corners me away from the flock of white tops. “Nice speech, sailor,” he says.
“Thanks,” I grunt, recognizing him from earlier. “You’re the newspaper man.”
He grins. “That’s me. Roger Hanson.” We shake hands. “Really, that was some speech. I saw my girl talking to you before you went up. Did she help out?”
“Gave me some pointers,” I say.
Roger nods. “No surprise there. Lily’s a hell of a writer. How do you know her?”
“We go way back,” I say, keeping it vague.
He nods and smiles. “That’s great, that’s great.” He goes to say something else but Lily appears at his shoulder suddenly, looking nervous.
“There she is,” Roger says loudly. “We were just talking about you.”
“All bad things,” I say.
She gives me a look. “Abel here has been really helpful lately,” she tells her boss. “He’s the one I’ve been quoting.”
“Ah,” Roger says, nodding. “I thought I recognized the name.”
“I hope I don’t sound stupid in her articles,” I say, throwing her a glare.
She smiles peacefully at me. I only gave her permission to quote me once. I wonder how many times she’s done it.
“Listen, you two should get together and work on something more… substantial,” Roger says.
“I’d love to work on something with Lily,” I say, grinning at her.
She glares at me. “He doesn’t have the time, I’m sure. You’re very popular, Mr. Green.”
“Not at all,” I say. “I’ve got all the time in the world for a great writer like you.”
“Perfect!” Roger roars over Lily’s protest. “Lily, you interview him for the paper, maybe talk about this charity or whatever we’re doing here. Get him to tell some of those stories, I bet our readers will love them.”
I smile at him but I don’t like the idea of my stories getting put into print.
“Roger, I’m sure he’s too busy,” Lily presses.
“No, really,” I say. “I’d be happy to spend as much time with the lovely Lily here as she wants.”
“Great, wonderful.” Roger’s already looking away, over toward a group of wealthy-looking people. “Listen, you two work out the details and let me know. I have some networking to do.” He rushes off and joins in another conversation with a loud introduction.
Lily stands up next to me. “Thanks for that,” she grumbles.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Now I have to actually interview you. I can’t make the whole thing up.”
“How many times have you quoted me, by the way?”
She looks a little sheepish. “Just a few.”
“A few?”
“Four.”
I sigh. “I thought this was one time for one article.”
“I went overboard.”
“Clearly.”
“Look, we don’t have to—”
“No,” I say, turning to her. “I want to do it.”
She sighs and sips her drink, crossing one arm over her chest. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
“You don’t have to do this if you just want…” She trails off.
“Want what?” I ask, getting closer.
She blushes a little. “You know.”
“To fuck you?”
She glares at me. “To spend time with me.”
“Time between your legs,” I say, grinning huge. “Oh, yes, I do think about it all the time. Time spent fucking you is time spent very, very well.”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“I’m just saying. I keep thinking about the way you moan and how good it feels to sink my cock…” I trail off as an old woman comes past, smiling big at me.
“Knock it off,” Lily hisses at me. “Look, let’s not play around, okay?”
“I’m not playing. Let’s do the interview.”
“Fine.” She glares at me, clearly pissed now. “We’ll do it.”
“Good. I’ll call you.”
“Fine.”
She storms off, leaving me there with a smile on my face.
This night couldn’t have worked out better. I expected it to be a shit show all around, but instead I got to tease my favorite girl and I killed that speech. Overall, not a bad night.
I could see this becoming my thing. Maybe staying a civilian wouldn’t be so bad in the end. I mean, I do love the whiskey.
I finish my drink, put my glass on a table, and leave without another word. I got what I needed from this and now it’s time to go.
7
Lily
I’m pretty reluctant to do this interview thing, but my boss really pushes it the next day. Since I don’t have any options, I have to relent and give Abel a call.
“We’re doing it at your place,” I say seriously.
“We can do it anywhere you want,” he says, tone dripping with innuendo.
I roll my eyes. “Where are you staying?”
“Little place off Fairmount.”
“All right, send me the address. Are you free now?”
“Believe it or not, I do have a life.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He hesitates a second. “Yeah, I’m free now.”
“Send me the address. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up the phone and his text comes a minute later. I figure, it’s better to do this in the middle of the day. I don’t want there to be any confusion about what’s happening here.
This is strictly business. I need to get this interview, make it interesting, and make my boss happy. That’s all this is.
Whatever else is happening with him won’t matter. I guess that’s easier said than done, since we’ve been sleeping together and making things about as complicated as possible, but still. I’m going to try and be good.
His apartment is off a little side street just north of Fairmount. I buzz his number and he lets me in. “Just a temporary place,” he says. “Landlord is vet-friendly and leases month to month.”
“So you could get called back whenever?” I ask him.
He glances at me. “We doing the interview now?”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging.
“Well, yeah. I could get called up whenever.”
I follow him into his tiny little apartment. It’s actually a studio, with a kitchen on one side and a living room slash bedroom on the other. There’s a bathroom tucked away in the far corner and that’s pretty much it. Clearly his futon is both his couch and his bed.
Despite how small it is, he actually keeps it pretty immaculate. There’s nothing laying around, no cl
utter, no clothes. Everything is clean and shiny, like it’s brand new, although there’s not much in the way of decorations.
“Told you it’s small,” he says.
“It’s clean,” I note.
“Habit.”
“Picked it up in the service?”
He nods. “When you live and work with a bunch of fucking animals, it helps if you learn to keep your mess to yourself.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“Go for it.” He grins at me, cocks his head. “You wanna drink?”
“It’s one in the afternoon.”
He shrugs. “So?”
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He sits down on the futon and stretches out his legs with a sigh, patting the cushion next to him. “Curl on up and let’s chat.”
I pull over a stool that’s sitting next to the kitchen counter. I open my bag, take out a voice recorder, and make sure it’s running before I clear my throat.
“Okay, Abel. Where do you want to start?”
“Anywhere,” he says.
“Let’s start with your childhood. Where did you grow up?”
“Around here,” he says. “Well, in this city. I used to be South Philly garbage.”
“I thought your parents did well for themselves.”
“They did. My parents were good people, but I was always in trouble.”
“You were a tough kid?”
“Oh, you know,” he says with a fond smile. “I was running around and doing stupid shit. Getting into petty fights, trying to kiss girls, that sort of thing.”
“So a normal childhood.”
“Pretty much. Up until my parents died and I joined the military.”
“Tell me more about that.”
He frowns and looks away. I recognize that expression from other people I’ve talked to. I just hit on a topic he’d rather not go into.
But he starts talking anyway. He tells me how his life changed in an instant, how he went from a piece of shit troublemaker to a member of the United State Navy. He talked about joining the SEALs, going through BUD/S training, all that. He talked about transforming himself, becoming a better man.
And he talked about the crippling loneliness of being a SEAL.