Lost in LA

by Amy Craig

  “Why would you intervene?”

  She shrugged, thinking of the times she’d held back or waited for authority and experience. “You needed help, and I thought I could make a difference. Honestly, Dottie, it had nothing to do with you.”

  Dottie gaped.

  Wylie thought of Nolan’s comment when they stood on the street corner at the beginning of the week. ‘Maybe there’s nothing there.’ She shook her head, acknowledging that some people in her life would treat her presence like a transaction and some would treat her presence like a gift. People like Nolan and my parents. She realized she felt more balanced and empowered with him by her side. “That man was desperate. I hope he gets the help he needs before someone gets hurt.”

  Dottie blathered her thanks.

  Her companion cleared her throat. The woman’s stout physique, mousy brown hair and circular glasses marked her for character roles as a studious friend.

  “This is my cousin Billie,” Dottie said. “I offered to show her around town while she gets settled in.”

  Wylie nodded, knowing she should introduce Nolan, but she craved a quick escape before the magic of their night dissolved into incident reports and polite conversation. She picked up the tote and looked at the security guards running toward them. “Good luck with your auditions.”

  “Wait! You’re just leaving?”

  She smiled. “Yep.”

  Nolan took her hand and they left Dottie and Billie standing on the sidewalk.

  When the breeze picked up, she looked at the green grass on the hills swaying beneath the cloudless nighttime sky. The verdant grass would fade to brown when summer came, but she accepted that the shadows shifting in the breeze would never end. Somewhere in the brush, a desperate man was clutching his nose and feeling the empty pangs of hunger. She wanted to help that man find a solution without violence. She wanted to help Nolan fight back. “I hope he finds the help he needs, but in the meantime, Dottie and her cousin can explain what happened.”

  “You got mad.”

  “No. I just saw an opportunity to stand up for myself.”

  He kissed her palm. “You stood up for more than one person.”

  “Yeah. It might become a habit,” she said. “Call the driver so we can get out of here before the whole thing ruins our night.”

  “It hasn’t gone exactly how I planned.”

  She swung her arm, pulling his along for the ride. “I’m starting to understand a magnet my mom kept on the refrigerator.”

  “What did it say?”

  “We plan. God laughs.”

  “I think that’s a Woody Allen quote.”

  She laughed. “Well, maybe he was onto something.”

  She tucked herself under his shoulder and let the rhythm of traffic and the heat of Nolan’s skin keep her thoughts at bay. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift until sleep claimed her attention.

  The driver pulled up to the house on Monument Street.

  “I don’t want this to be the end,” Nolan said, stroking her arm as he urged her awake.

  She smiled, wanting to reassure him. “It’s not the end, Nolan. I wanted to give that man my dinner. I wanted to give him a glimmer of hope and a night of security before he tackled the challenges he’s facing.” She pulled the heat and weight of his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Modesto is more than your dream. It’s a way for the entire community to give back, including myself.”

  “You’re not going to move out,” he said, his eyes wide with hope. He gripped her hand like she would retract it and climb from the car at a moment’s notice.

  Tracing his knuckles with her lips, she shook her head and met his gaze. “I’m going to start over on my accreditation. I don’t know whether that means working in a studio or expanding the kinds of classes I teach. I’ll find a way to pay for high-deductible healthcare if it comes to that option. Either way, I’ll cover my basic needs and spend the rest of my time helping you achieve your dreams.”

  “You don’t have to be my helper,” he said. “I want you to be by my side.”

  She pulled his thumb into the warm cavern of her mouth, unsure how to manage the prospect of standing by his side. I’m much more comfortable with the other naked positions we’ve tried out.

  He stilled, seemingly fighting the pleasure and promise of her touch, his expression pained as he dragged his thumb along her lips and cupped her chin. “You can own this dream too. You care about the people you meet, offering little adjustments and glimmers of hope that brighten their days, just like you brighten mine.”

  She raised her eyebrows and stopped trying to postpone the conversation.

  “You asked me to push my limits and take a risk. Why can’t you do the same?” he asked.

  “I’m so used to taking care of myself. What happens when you change your mind?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I love you, Wylie. Do you understand that?”

  She licked her lips and smiled. “Do you make a habit of going all in? Isn’t this our first date?”

  Pulling her close, he tilted up her chin. “If I have my way, there won’t be any more first dates for you. Tell me you feel the same way or tell me you might get there one day.”

  “Or what?”

  He shook his head and stared at her mouth. “Or you’ll leave me in agony, but I won’t bail on you while there’s hope. I’ll wait for you to figure it out.”

  Seeing the desperation and vulnerability in his eyes, she crawled across the seat and straddled him. At the end of the day, we’re just two people willing to expose our hearts, and that’s the biggest risk of them all. “I’m very close to figuring it out,” she said, lowering to make contact.

  His cock jumped in response to her heat.

  She smiled and traced the line separating his haircut and his trimmed beard. You’re always in control unless you’re with me. There’re freedom and power in that piece of information, but I don’t want your money, Nolan, I want your heart. She raised her eyebrows, trying to play it cool. “There may be a few terms and conditions we need to iron out.”

  “I’ll have my lawyer review the contract.” He cupped her ass and held her like a priceless piece of art. “But your heart’s beating as fast as mine.”

  She glanced at the million-dollar house that homed a community when she’d thought she only needed a place to live. And this man stood at the center of it all, anchoring the ties that brought them all strength. “We should go up,” she said. “My heartbeat’s betraying me and I don’t want to control my impulses right now.”

  “Why? The driver will help us take a naked selfie if that’s what you want.”

  Her eyes widened as she realized he was serious. Then she laughed and shook her head. “I don’t want a naked selfie. I want you. I want your oversized dreams and your loyal heart. I want the man who can pop champagne corks and dish out hundreds of wrap sandwiches without breaking a sweat.”

  “You’re not in it for the suits and fat cigars?”

  She swatted his chest. “You shouldn't have kept your background from me.”

  “You would have bolted.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I came to your yoga class to ask you out and you were as skittish as a frightened colt.”

  “‘Power’s only a bad thing if you don’t trust the person who wields it,’” she repeated.

  “Exactly. I know how glimpses into another world can mess with your head. I almost bolted when I saw that body bag because I didn’t understand it or understand my place in the world.”

  “Now you do?”

  “It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. “The world is full of big challenges, and it’s so easy to close your eyes to human need. Shame pushed me until I realized how much more I could have done for that man. But once I got started, I never stopped fighting. It takes a certain level of naivety to tackle dreams like ours.”

  “And a certain level of trust,” she said.

  “Do you trust me now? Do you
trust yourself?”

  She shifted on his lap. “I wouldn't call myself naïve, but I’m getting the hang of balancing my needs against what I want to accomplish in this world. Juggling the feelings I have for you might be the easiest part.”

  He put his hands on her hips and stilled her movement. “And the hardest?”

  “Conflict resolution and anger management classes?”

  He laughed. He smiled and pulled her flush, raising one hand from her hip to cradle the back of her neck. “I told you that I’m here to help you figure these things out.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I love you.”

  Wylie sighed and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I wasn’t looking for you,” she said. “And you weren’t even on the menu.” He kissed her, his taste sweeter than any spice she could imagine.

  “I’m glad you took a risk, Mini Mako. I’m glad we both learned to ask for what we want.”

  * * * *

  A Year Later

  Banners for Metro Movement’s 5K filled Grand Park. The sea of people waiting to begin the five- and ten-kilometer races stared at the stage, eager to do their part to bring an end to homelessness.

  Penny Lane stood behind the microphone and delivered her speech about the things the community had done to help her stabilize her living situation. She ended with a plea for the thousands of other people who were still waiting for help.

  Afterward, Nolan stood on the stage amid the signage and paraphernalia of an event that would make the evening news. He announced his fast-casual restaurant chain and credited Wylie’s influence for shaping his vision of success. “The people of this city want to give everyone the tools they need to achieve their dreams—a home to guard their bodies, food to nourish their souls and the community support they need. My girlfriend opened my eyes and personalized the needs in our community. She helped me structure Modesto to support everyone who walks through its doors.”

  She rolled her eyes from the wings. He had to throw in that part about the girlfriend. Last night I was a member of the board of directors. She smiled. It doesn’t matter what title I have. He knows I love him.

  When he walked off the stage, she smiled to encourage him. He had practiced the speech as he’d walked up and down the halls of the house, alienating his roommates until each of them could recite it in their sleep. She had been the only one to cradle him at night, flesh against flesh, as she told him how exciting it would be to see him take the stage at the main event.

  “How’d I do?”

  “You only went off script once or twice.” She raised her eyebrows and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “I expected more discipline from you.”

  He blushed and stilled her hands. “I saw more than one man lose his balance when you waltzed onto the stage in your yoga pants and kicked off the opening ceremonies.”

  “It’s very important to stretch your muscles before you go for a run.”

  He leaned down and captured her lips. “I might need private lessons.”

  “You can visit the new wellness studio any time you wish. Cynthia holds classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We’re big into this kinship vibe I heard about.”

  The man she loved pulled back and swatted her ass. “Should I sign up for a recurring membership?”

  She draped her arms over his shoulders and smiled. “If you play your cards right, I’d be willing to offer you a lifetime commitment.”

  “As long as you’re by my side, Mini Mako. Sign me up.”

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  Love Repaired

  Deana Birch

  Excerpt

  I parked the loaner SUV in line next to the other shiny overpriced automobiles, did a final check for personal belongings in the seat next to me—no need to learn the same lesson twice, my cell phone had spent the day in my car— and headed into the office. With the sun set, the cool evening air hit my cheeks and I perked up as I walked. My Cayenne sat in front of the large metal garage doors, a sparkle reflecting its recent wash. At least luxury came with attention to detail.

  When I reached the glass door, I tugged it toward me only to find it locked. Jesus. I’d even failed at picking up my car. I stood on my tiptoes and rapped my knuckles against the glass. On the other side, the room was dark and the half-circular reception desk was abandoned, a black office chair pushed into its place. But from the hall behind it, a light peeked out—my ray of hope.

  I knocked again and pressed my lips together while readjusting my shoulder bag. I shifted my body weight from side to side and banged louder.

  Florescent beams flooded the showroom and I blinked. My skin flushed, and my mouth went dry. A legal aide at the firm had once said something about man candy, but I thought that was like a unicorn—not real, a legend in a forest I would never visit. But Man Candy had a warm smile, combed-back dirty blond hair and a build that screamed heaven through a tight, black, untucked work shirt. The last few buttons were open and matching pants hung low on his waist. He was also headed right toward me, tapping a wrench in his hand.

  With dimples in his smile, he slipped the tool into his back pocket and unlocked the door. His sea-blue eyes must have been designed for skinny dipping.

  “Mrs. Benton, I presume.” The low, scratchy voice matched the light stubble on his cheeks. His dimples deepened, and the warm showroom air hit my already-heated body.

  “Ms.” I couldn’t resist the urge to brush against him, and as I did, the perfect blend of motor oil and earthy spice came with me.

  Testosterone, how I’ve missed thee.

  I walked over to reception and placed the key fob on the desk.

  He followed and squinted down at the neat paper piles next to the flat computer screen and keyboard. He picked up my keys from the tail of the stuffed squirrel that held them and dangled it like a time piece.

  “Nice keychain.” After a quick arch of his eyebrow, the damn dimples reappeared with his tight-lipped smile.

  “Thanks”—I glanced at his chest—“Ben.” I took the stuffed animal from his grease-stained hands and slid the other key toward him.

  “Did you fill it up?” he asked.

  “Uh…no.” Add one more failure to my day.

  Ben shook his head and grabbed the fob before popping it into a drawer. “No one ever fills it up. You know it costs double, right?” He peered up with one eye closed.

  “Well, it was either fill it up or make you wait longer.”

  “Either way, it’s my time. I’ll have to do it Monday.” He rubbed his face with both hands and a tattoo poked out from the tight sleeve around his bicep. His very full bicep.

  I cringed and lifted a shoulder. “Sorry. Anyway, I only drove it to my office and back.”

  Ben walked out from behind the desk and over to the door. Holding it open for me again, he motioned for me to leave.

  I’m too young to suffer hot flashes, right? And I was not dreaming of ways to sabotage my brakes or engine. That would be silly—and a further inconvenience that my schedule would not allow.

  “You had a failed fuel pump. It’s a pretty common problem. That was what was causing the stalling.”

  Note to self— Get another failed fuel pump.

  When we stood in front of my car, he pulled up on the handle, swung the door open, and I froze. A big white pastry box sat on the passenger seat.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Pardon?” he asked with an airy chuckle.

  I brought my hands to my face and pulled them down slowly, probably ruining the effects of the anti-aging cream I’d put on that morning. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Are you okay?” Ben leaned in closer.

  “I forgot the fucking cupcakes. Fuck me. Fuck.” I let my bag fall off my shoulder and dragged my feet over to the steel garage. My back met the cool wall and I slid down to the rough concrete. I stomped my sensible beige heel before slumping into a ball and whimpering into my hands. My e
ntire day, week, month… They had all been colossal fails.

  The motor oil and musk were back, now touching my wrist and seated on the ground next to me.

  “Shitty day?” He draped his defined forearms over his knees with his fingers interlaced.

  “I wish I could say it was the shittiest, but it just seems to be par for the course. Fuck.” I stomped again.

  “You have quite the potty mouth for a lady.”

  “Did you just call me a lady? Oh my God, now I’m really going to cry.” Forgetting Shae’s cupcakes was the cherry on top of my botched-Mom sundae. But being one step away from a ‘ma’am’ was the rainbow sprinkles. Asshole-expensive face cream… It obviously wasn’t working. And I wasn’t even forty.

  “You wanna talk about it? I’m a pretty good listener.”

  If that were true, then Man Candy truly was a unicorn and I was in an enchanted forest. But the words flew out before I could stop them.

  “My client lied to me and made me look like a fool in a deposition. I forgot my phone in the car this morning, which means my older daughter has probably called it three hundred times. And because I was behind closed doors with said lying client, I couldn’t call her.

  “It was my little one’s last day at dance camp and I was supposed to bring the cupcakes. Which, as you can see, I did not do. Oh, and their father is in prison for vehicular manslaughter. Sorry you asked?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Where are they now? Your girls?”

  “My sister takes care of them so I can keep working.” I wrapped the hem of my skirt around my legs.

  “Who takes care of you?” The smile and dimples were gone, but the warmth stayed in his eyes.

  “Me, I guess.” I shrugged and tried to recall any moment my ex, Pete, had ever really taken care of me, and I drew a blank.

  He narrowed his blue eyes. “Is that enough?”

  The beautiful stranger next to me had gotten as far as my walls would let him. Although, I had to admit, someone being concerned about me might have made a tiny crack.