Mr. H.O.A.

by Carina Taylor

  I ran out the door, leaving a stupefied Bane in my wake.

  "Welcome neighbor!"

  The door flew open after my first knock. Tori stood on the other side of the door holding a big white dog by the collar. Her hair was a lighter shade of purple than the last time I saw her.

  "Hi," I said. "I brought some cookies. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t think to ask if you were gluten-free."

  "Come on in! I can’t have gluten, but the other ladies will love them. They look delicious."

  I glanced at the dog who was straining at the hold on his collar.

  "Oh, don’t mind Mumford. He gets excited about new friends. He’ll calm down when you come sit down. Everyone is kind of used to him."

  I followed Tori into the living room where six other ladies were already sitting and talking. Tori introduced me, and I promptly forgot all of their names.

  "Tonight, we’re talking about our last book and trying to decide the next book to read. I know most book clubs only meet once a month, but we’re all voracious readers here, so we meet once a week."

  "You read a book a week?" I gasped.

  Tori scrunched her eyebrows together. "Of course not. We read way more than that, but we usually try to limit our book discussions to one book a week. Otherwise we would stay up all night talking books. Not that that’s the worst thing."

  She smiled and grabbed my arm, leading me to a spot on the floral couch next to her. "Come on, you get to sit next to me."

  She leaned close and whispered, "Whatever you do, don’t get Tina started on old romance step backs. She has a whole collection and will bring them next week if you mention it."

  "What’s a stepback?" Apparently I spoke too loudly, because someone else in the room tuned in. Probably Tina, whom Tori was talking about.

  "Did I hear someone say stepback? We could do a stepback next week! I’ll bring my collection because I know you all love them so much." Her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Nola, you’re new so you’ll get to see the collection for the first time."

  I nodded. "Awesome."

  It sounded as though the dog at Tori’s feet whined, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her. "Thanks, Tina," she said as she pulled out her reading tablet.

  "All right. Let’s get started." Chairs scooted, phones beeped, and glasses clinked as everyone got comfortable for book club.

  Tori spoke first, "We read a new-to-us author. Sarah Adams. How are we feeling?"

  A collective sigh filled the room. "Definitely add her future books to our TBR list."

  "TBR?" I whispered to Tori.

  "To-be-read," she answered with a wink.

  "Oh, thanks." To-be-read, I currently had a not-to-be-read list. People recommending the next great American novel... The next great "collect dust on my shelf" book was more like it.

  "Any dissent—I don’t want to hear it," Tori continued. "Because I loved it, and I don’t want any of you ruining this moment for me."

  A chorus of laughs sounded through the room, and they spent the next twenty minutes talking about their favorite parts of the book and their highlighted quotes.

  "Now, votes about our next book. Since we just read a regency, we have to pick a different genre."

  "I vote medieval!"

  "Western."

  "Romantic comedy."

  "We haven’t read an angsty one in a while."

  The voices filled the room, offering suggestion after suggestion. "How do you ever decide?" I asked Tori.

  She laughed, "Actually, my husband Ian usually picks the book the night before, and then I suggest it to the ladies. Whenever I tell them it’s an Ian suggestion, they jump all over it."

  I laughed with her at that—her husband had the looks that made a person look twice. Why did people feel an innate urge to please beautiful people—even if it was just agreeing with their book choice?

  The rest of book club was surprisingly enjoyable. I don’t know why I’d been so nervous. It had been a long time since I’d sat down with other women and laughed. College was the last time I’d had real friends, not just passing acquaintances. That was far too long in my opinion. The women talked about romance, and which fictional character would make a better boyfriend. I found myself hanging onto every word of the conversation even though I didn't know what they were talking about.

  I even learned everyone’s names. By the end of book club, I had a list of required romance books to read. I slipped my shoes on by the door. I was the last to leave.

  "Oh, and maybe if you could keep it a secret that we’re not an HOA approved meeting? Bane can just assume we’ve already been approved." Tori looked at me with a pleading look in her eye. "I think he’s still upset I suggested we let the dogs have a swimming day too."

  I crossed my heart and made a serious face. "On pain of death and stepbacks, I won’t tell Mr. HOA."

  Tori grinned then flung her arms around me. "I just knew I was going to love you when I first saw you and your husband at the block party."

  "I’ll pretend like you have the full written permission. He is a bit of a stickler on the rules, so if he finds out someone’s breaking something, he might just give them that five-dollar fine," I teased.

  "Five dollars! He really is generous. Jan liked to issue one-hundred-dollar fines to anyone and everyone. She fined Ian before he’d even moved into the house. Isn’t that crazy? The painters accidentally painted the house lime green. She fined him when he didn’t get it fixed fast enough."

  "Wow! She sounds a little..."

  Tori nodded knowingly. "Yes. Exactly that word."

  I picked up my purse from the entryway bench. "Thank you again for inviting me tonight. I really enjoyed myself."

  "I know you said you’re not much of a reader, so you’ll have to let me know if you enjoy our historical read for this week. We can text each other updates on how far we are into the book."

  "That sounds like a lot of fun." I gave her a little wave then headed out the door, making my way home, the streetlamps lighting the way.

  A motor hummed behind me, and I glanced back but couldn’t make out anything but bright headlights pointing at me. I walked faster.

  The vehicle sped up, creeping ominously behind me. I couldn’t jog fast enough to get away. It was definitely following me, and it wasn’t an irrational fear in my head.

  By the time I reached home, I was dead sprinting.

  I pounded on the locked front door, screaming for Bane when the car pulled into the drive. The door yanked open, and Bane’s strong arms wrapped around me, jerking me inside and shutting the door after me.

  "Are you all right? What’s going on? Are you hurt?"

  I gasp, grasping my side that was burning. "That car out there followed me all the way from Tori’s into the driveway. I couldn’t see the license plate."

  A knock sounded on the door. I screamed.

  Bane pushed me behind him as he looked through the peephole. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door.

  "Harold, what are you doing? You scared my wife half to death."

  "I’m sorry about that, Mr. Fox. I just wanted to make sure she made it home safely." A man in his early forties with a soft middle stood there looking anything but apologetic. "I take my job seriously, and anytime someone is walking after dark, I make sure they reach home safely."

  He straightened his shoulders and adjusted the belt around his generous middle, where he had a taser and a heavy-duty flashlight attached.

  Bane groaned. "Okay, well, thank you for escorting her. Goodnight."

  He slammed the door, locked it, then turned on me. His eyes sparkled dangerously. "Do I have white hair? Because I feel like I should have white hair after hearing you scream bloody murder on the front porch. I thought you were being murdered."

  I planted my hands on my hips. "Hey, don’t be mad at me. I thought I was about to be murdered, too."

  Bane shook his head. "I’m not mad at you. You did the right thing if you thought someone was following you. I si
mply meant that that security guard is more work than he was worth. The first morning we were here together, I got a thirty-minute lecture on how to safely park a car in the garage and keep out intruders. Thirty minutes of my life I’ll never get back."

  Setting my purse down on the kitchen counter, I began searching through the fridge. "Why don’t we have any dessert in here?"

  "I thought you just ate at your book club thingy."

  "I’m not eating because I’m hungry. I’m eating because I just ran the mad dash from what I thought was an ax murderer chasing me."

  Bane reached past me and shut the fridge door. I turned around to let him have a piece of my mind, but he grasped my shoulders and turned me to face the freezer door. He swung it open. "This is where the good stuff is."

  He motioned to the four cartons of ice cream lining the top shelf.

  I sighed. "You amazing man, you. I think I love you."

  Bane's eyes locked onto mine and I laughed shrilly. Why had I said that?

  I forced myself to turn back to the freezer. After reading the names, I decided on the one with the ludicrous amounts of chocolate. Instead of dishing a bowl, I grabbed a spoon out of the silverware drawer, then sat down on the couch and proceeded to eat an unhealthy amount of dairy. If I wasn’t lactose intolerant before, I would be after consuming that much ice cream in one sitting.

  "I’m going to bed. I have to go to the office early tomorrow to go over some things with Darla. Are you going to be okay?" Bane asked from where he sat at the bar working on his laptop.

  "Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. And thanks for sharing your ice cream stash with me." I saluted him with the spoon. He smiled, and with a little wave, disappeared down the hall toward the master suite. He wasn’t half bad at all, and that was a problem.

  I wanted him to like me.

  I wanted him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Homeowners Association Rule #50:

  No loud outdoor music.

  Nola: I can’t believe I’m bothering you at the office, but my car won’t start. I’ll owe you a big fat order of Hawaiian food if you have time to bring me home from work.

  I texted her back right away.

  Bane: What time are you done? I had a showing fall through, so I’m free for the rest of the day.

  Nola: I’m just sitting here at the office counting slug bugs while I wait for the tow truck.

  I slipped my phone into my pocket and shut down my laptop. After locking my office, I poked my head into Darla’s office.

  "Hey, I’m taking off early today. I need to go pick up a friend."

  Darla’s eyes widened behind her thick glasses. "Is it a girl?"

  I grinned. "Maybe."

  "Is she pretty?"

  "Gorgeous."

  "Then you have my permission," she replied in an imperial tone.

  "Sometimes I think you run this office more than I do."

  "And don’t you forget it," she said with a wink.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled up in front of the local DHS office. A tow truck was pulling Nola’s minivan onto the back of the truck. Nola stood on the sidewalk watching.

  "What did you do to it?" I asked as I climbed out of my car.

  "I don’t know. I’m not afraid to admit I have zero mechanical knowledge. It wouldn’t start; end of story."

  "Did you try jumping it?"

  She turned to glare at me as she folded her arms across her chest. "I said I didn’t have mechanical sense; I didn’t say I was stupid. Of course I tried jumping it. Some nice gentleman stopped to help me. It didn’t work."

  "Hmm, well hopefully it will be an easy fix and you won’t have to be without a car for long." I said as I squeezed her shoulder. It was a comforting gesture. It was also the gesture of a man starting to lose his head over a pretty woman. Someone who was dying to touch her, even if it was just her shoulder.

  She sighed and reached up to pat my hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for picking me up. You’re a fantastic husband."

  "Anything for you, sweetie." I smiled as I walked around and opened the passenger door for her. "Your chariot awaits."

  She laughed and climbed in.

  I shut the door carefully after her then hurried to the driver’s side. The tow truck was pulling out of the parking lot, the minivan looking rather forlorn on the flatbed.

  "I’m going to have to buy a bike. Or roller skates. Maybe a scooter."

  "Hey now. I'm sure it's fixable. Let’s not jump to the worst-case scenario here," I suggested.

  "Oh, that’s right, that’s your job."

  Glancing at her, I scowled as I slowly reached forward to turn the music up. "If you can’t say something nice... then you’ll have to listen to Safety Dance."

  She looked at me, a horrified expression frozen on her face. "No. The oldies station. Absolutely not."

  I started mouthing the words as I turned up the radio.

  "No. Make it stop!"

  "We can dance if we want to..."

  "Gah! How did I get stuck with you out of all men in the universe?"

  "Sheer good luck, I’d say."

  I turned to face her for the last chorus, making sure to belt the words out as loudly as possible. Nola was laughing so hard she had tears streaming down her face.

  When the song ended, I turned the radio down and backed out of parking space. "Okay, now we can go."

  Nola gasped for air. "Why did I not take a video of you singing that?"

  "Lack of foresight. It’s the number one cause of problems within a business." I reached into my middle consul and pulled out a pen that I passed to her. "You might want to take notes; I’m full of gems of wisdom like that."

  She looked at me and smiled as she took the pen from me. "You’re in an incredibly good mood this afternoon."

  I just smiled. I’d have to give her a pretty darn good reason for why I was in a good mood. I couldn’t exactly tell her it was because of her. That wouldn’t be tolerated well. The shock of it might kill her.

  Once we made it into the house, I turned my phone on silent, determined to ignore any and all texts related to HOA problems. I wanted to spend the afternoon with Nola. She seemed to recover from her bad mood the day before, which was fine because, I had a sneaking suspicion she was having a hard time with her kids. She’d mentioned something about Maya’s custody only in passing.

  But I could put two and two together. Nola was the type to get attached. Spending time with those kids was something she loved to do. If one of the children ended up going back home to their parents, it probably broke Nola’s heart every single time she had to say goodbye. I didn’t doubt she wanted the best for them, but that didn’t lessen the sting.

  She’d been willing to be there for me as I opened up, now I would be there for her—even if it meant letting her grump at me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Homeowners Association Rule #13:

  If a trespasser is spotted, immediately call the current neighborhood security guard.

  At the end of every day, I had the privilege of answering a myriad of HOA texts. It was becoming painfully clear why Jan had passed the responsibility off with maniacal glee. Nola was no help. She simply laughed when I complained to her about the HOA problems every day.

  Marcia: Why doesn't the HOA provide towels at the pool?

  Fredrick: Why doesn't the HOA allow me to mow my lawn at 4 am?

  Carol: Why don't we require a visitor’s pass for day visitors?

  And then there was my new friend Harold, who kept coming up with oh-so-helpful suggestions, except he liked to impart them in person.

  "Like I was saying, if every person had an ID badge with their thumbprint on it, I could know right away whether they belonged in the neighborhood. It could be something as simple as a scanner. Keeping out all the extra people. You know I'm thorough. And I take the safety of this neighborhood very seriously, but if you are expecting me to keep everything top shape with my limited resources—well that's just a miracle even
I can't perform. Back in my army days..."

  I tuned Harold out as I washed my car. Friday evenings were supposed to be a leisurely time for most people. Harold was making it a habit to stop by the house before his shift, or in the morning after his shift. Then he would proceed to chat with me about anything that crossed his mind. Usually, all the stories had a tie in with 'back in my army days.'

  "What did you think of the proposed curfew changes?" I asked him, hoping to distract him from his army story.

  Harold could talk and talk about his army days, unfortunately most of his stories weren't very interesting, and they rarely involved anything off base or beyond paper filing. My office dynamics were more exciting than his army days.

  Apparently he didn't hear my question, because he continued telling his story. "They were so worried about me, but I just laughed, and that was how I ended up with a purple heart."

  The dirty spots on my car tires had been more riveting than the story, but I couldn't help feeling that I missed some important aspect of the story.

  "So when will I be getting my funding?"

  With a sigh, I tossed my rag into the bucket. "Listen Harold, they might have elected me to be president of the HOA, but that doesn't mean I have any control over anything. The board members would be the ones who have to vote on something like that, and I can tell you right now, they are probably more concerned with updating to timed street lights—something that should make you happy since it's part of a safety concern as well."

  "Well, it's not the best—"

  Honk, honk!

  Nola pulled into the driveway next to my car. I’d dropped her off at work expecting to pick her up at the end of the day. At lunch time she sent me a text saying her car was done at the shop and that she’d be able to drive herself home.

  She stepped out from the car, her eyes landing on my bare torso. She whistled, "Hey, good looking! Want to wash mine next?"

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, reminding myself that she was just playing the part of my wife—that she probably didn't mean that appreciative look. It was getting harder to separate the real and the fake.