by Gina Sturino
My pulse pounded. Heat flushed my neck and cheeks. I closed my eyes as the background chatter seemed to amplify.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The feeling that had just rocked my body quickly disseminated with the sound of his voice.
It’s a panic attack, Nova. Breathe. Breathe through it.
Taking a step away from Dane, I fought the urgent need to flee. I started to open my mouth to reply, but a gruff voice sounded from behind.
“Well, well, well… if it isn’t Dane Kill-bane.”
Dane turned slowly, his eyebrows rising as he responded in a surprisingly annoyed tone, “Big, bad Liam. I heard you were in town.”
“Did you?” Liam replied. The man wasn’t extraordinarily tall, but he stood with a confidence that seemed to add a few inches. The stubble from a few missed shaves—not quite a beard, but beyond a five o’clock shadow—along with his eyes, which had narrowed to slits, gave him an indignant air.
They didn’t shake hands, instead they eyed one another. Tense silence hung between us as we stood in a jagged triangle. Dane’s hand remained protectively under my elbow.
I smiled awkwardly, then offered my hand. “Hi, I’m Nova Nixon.”
“No-va,” Liam said, enunciating my name in the same manner Dane had at the Metro Mart. He cocked his head. “Dane, you speak Spanish, right?” Not waiting for an answer, he then turned to me. “Sorry, Miss Nixon, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Dane and I are… old friends, work in the same field.”
“Tequila?” I asked dubiously. Although, this might be the mysterious agent Dane had referenced in the call I overheard. Sales reps certainly had come up with creative, benign names—ambassadors, guides, advisors—to overcome their pushy stigma.
“Something like that.” Liam’s tight smile remained planted firmly in place.
“Liam and I worked together—”
“We still do, Dane. Don’t forget that,” Liam interrupted before giving a final nod to Dane, tipping his glass toward me. “Miss Nixon, enjoy your evening.” He walked away, leaving me more confused than before.
Several quiet seconds passed before Dane shrugged and grinned, diffusing the strange tension. “Well, that was weird. Sorry about Liam. I heard he might be in town. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but a decent guy. We kinda hit a snag a few years ago. Friendship hasn’t been the same.”
“Yeah.” I gave a forced laugh. Glancing over Dane’s shoulder to catch a final peek at the mysterious Liam, I noticed the large clock located on the bar’s far wall flanked by smaller clocks baring the time of various cities around the world.
Central time zone read seven fifteen p.m.
“I should check if Pete’s messaged. Do you mind?” I handed my glass to Dane, then fished in my clutch for my cell.
“Ah, pokey Peter, losing points for tardiness.” Dane smirked, blinking rapidly, as if holding my glass was a taxing favor. I shot him a look—the raised eyebrows, shut-it type.
The only message was from Cami, who was on her way. I slid the cell back into my handbag.
“Ten minutes. He gets ten minutes, and then I’m leaving,” I declared, snatching my glass from Dane. I brought it to my lips, tipped it back, and sucked it dry. “Mind getting me another?”
“Of course.” Dane spun and made his way to the bar. I watched, appraising his broad shoulders and muscled arms as he reached across the bar to grab a napkin. Fabric stretched over his thick bicep. I still didn’t know what his tattoo was…
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Who should appear to sour my flirty thoughts… none other than sugary-sweet Lori, sauntering up to Dane and batting her eyes like a lost kitten. Before I realized it, I was between them, cutting Lori off mid-screech.
“Thanks, Dane.” I smiled sweetly at him, lifting one of the two glasses set in front of him, and jutting my chin to Lori. “Oh, excuse me.”
Lori glared back, sneering through gritted teeth. “Dane, I’ll see you tomorrow. Looking forward to it.” Her eyes flashed pointedly to me before she pranced away.
“Lori, was it?” I asked sweetly, sipping from the wine. “Hot date lined up?”
“Something like that.” Dane sighed, then glanced over my shoulder to the clock. “Any word from your hot date?”
With a clenched jaw, I slugged my wine. How humiliating. Not just being stood up but being stood up with Dane in the audience.
Just as embarrassment threatened to engulf me, there Pete was, standing across the lounge and scanning the room. I gave a little wave when his eyes roamed over the bar area. He nodded back with a wide grin.
“Well, well. Speak of the devil.” Dane eyed him, then returned his focus to me.
Pete was to us seconds later. “Nova, I am so sorry. I sent you that text then got wrapped up in a hell of a call.” He brushed back his hair, then loosened his tie.
“No prob, Pete. I’ve kept your date well occupied.” Dane smirked. “You look like you need a drink. What’ll it be?”
Oh no, this is not turning into a date with a third wheel.
Pete politely nodded back. “Thanks brother. Hey, have we met?” He extended his hand. “Pete Mackroy, with Carbondale. You with Loft?” He noted Dane’s puzzled expression. “Nova’s firm?”
Dane seemed to assess Pete’s hand before firmly shaking it. “Dane Killbane, Nova’s neighbor.” He swiveled in his stool and gave a nod. “Well, I should go mingle, I suppose. I’ll leave you two to it. Nova, Pete, you kids have a nice night.”
He walked away, muttering under his breath, “And I’m not your brother.”
“Right, your neighbor. He was at the coffee shop. Is he always that pleasant?” Pete’s eyes crinkled as he joked.
But an overwhelming urge to defend Dane slipped from my lips. “Actually, he’s wonderful.”
Pete’s smile froze. Uncomfortable seconds passed before we slipped from the bar and moved to the far end of the room where a few of his colleagues had congregated.
“I’m surprised I haven’t run into anyone from Loft,” I said, trying to rekindle the conversation with Pete. He’d barely said a word since Dane’s departure.
“Yeah, well, I think they’re working late tonight,” Pete replied off-handedly. He sipped at his cocktail, then paused. “Hey can you hold this?” I took the glass from him as he pulled out his cell. He scanned the message, his eyebrows twisting and his lips flattening into a tight line. “Nova, I gotta go. I’m really sorry. This night is definitely going to shit. Can I call you a cab?”
“That’s okay, Pete. A friend of mine is stopping by, so I think I’ll stay a bit. Hope everything’s okay?”
He replied with a shrug, “We’ll see… Okay, I really got to fly. I’m sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The night was still young, but besides a quick hello to Cami, I had no desire to stay. I scanned the crowd for her, but instead found Dane immersed in conversation with the ever-present Lori. Although tempted to again interrupt them, I opted to save face and leave. He didn’t need to know just how poorly my date had gone.
I pushed through Bar Continental’s glass doors. July’s sticky breeze kissed my cheeks. The sun was starting its descent, hanging over the horizon like an orange creamsicle.
So many thoughts swam in my head, but in that moment, jealousy from seeing Dane engrossed in conversation with Lori overwhelmed everything else.
Leaning against the railing of Bar Continental’s wide concrete steps, I closed my eyes for a minute, thinking back to the kiss Dane and I shared a few days earlier. His lips would forever be seared into my memory. Like fireworks, an explosion, he ignited something in me I couldn’t extinguish. Even with the arm’s-length approach he tried to maintain, I had a feeling he was as bewildered by these uncontrollable feelings as me.
If I’d thought starting something with Dane was a bad idea before, now I knew. He’d be my downfall.
I should stay away, but like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t seem to resist. Spinning on t
he heel of my strappy sandals, jealousy swept me up the stairs and back into Bar Continental to look for him.
As I neared the bar, I spotted a familiar crop of near-white hair. I must’ve missed Cami when I scanned the room before. Her bob had been curled into loose ringlets, looking like the swirl of soft-serve ice cream and contrasting with her deep summer tan.
Approaching, I stopped in my tracks as the figure behind her came into view. The man Dane had introduced me to, big bad Liam, spoke heatedly to a clearly frazzled Cami. Her chin tilted defiantly as she began to step away, and his arm shot out, firmly grasping her elbow.
“Cami!” I exclaimed, the need to protect her rushing with urgency from my lips.
Both sets of eyes snapped from one another to mine, and Liam’s arm fell away.
“Nova,” Cami spoke calmly. Her eyes shifted from me to Liam and back again to me. “Hey, girl. I’ll meet you at the bar in a minute.” She turned her back on me and reengaged Liam.
Ignoring her instructions, I remained planted in place, curiously watching their exchange. Liam gave a firm nod to Cami, then looked over her shoulder to me, giving me the same nod, clearly his way of bidding farewell.
Cami shook her head as she turned away.
“Everything okay?” I asked when she reached my side. “Who’s that?”
“Liam?” Cami’s voice came out small, no hint of her usual spritely tone. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about him.”
“Seemed kind of heated?”
“Liam operates at one level—intense,” Cami said. She sipped her drink. “He’s, uh, an old friend, helping me with Celia.”
“Really? Is he a PI or something? Think he could help me find Neal?”
“Trust me, you don’t want his help.” Her amber eyes narrowed with warning, causing my brows to rise. When she spoke next, her demeanor reverted back to her usual chipper self. “I tried to call you; I can’t stay long tonight.”
“I was about to leave, but…” I trailed off, feeling silly about my surge of jealousy at seeing Dane talking with Lori. Peeking around the room, I didn’t spot either of them. Did they leave together? He could start something with her, but not me? I sighed, certain my face had turned an ugly shade of green. “I’m ready to call it a night.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Cami linked arms with me.
We remained silent as we waited for a cab. It wasn’t until we were safely tucked inside that she turned to me with a small smile.
“I do have some news on Celia.” She smoothed her skirt, then nervously picked at the hem. “There’s a lead I need to follow up on. I hate to leave you so soon after the accident—”
“Cami, that’s great. Don’t worry about me. I’m feeling pretty good actually.” Cami had been searching for Celia for years. I didn’t want her fretting about me when she had greater fish to fry.
“Yes, well, hopefully if I actually find her, she’ll talk to me.” She stared ahead, watching the cab driver as he turned onto my street. “That guy you saw me with—Liam—he’s, um, well, I don’t think he’ll be in town long, but wherever he goes, trouble seems to follow.”
Big bad Liam somehow knew both Dane and Cami. The coincidence seemed beyond strange, but after the crazy few weeks I’d had, I wasn’t the best judge. Both Dane and Cami’s reaction toward Liam led me to not question her opinion. He was bad news. Before I could ask her more, her arms were around me, pulling me into a tight hug. She was like a dose of hot chocolate on a cold day; she warmed my soul.
“I won’t be gone long.” Her arms loosened, and I leaned back. Worry etched her perfect features, and her amber-brown eyes clouded with caution.
“What’s going on, Cam?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Stay safe, sweet friend.”
As soon as the cab carrying Cami pulled from the curb, I felt her loss like a security blanket being yanked from my shoulders. Vulnerability had me spinning on my heels and digging out the key fob for the front door.
I stopped to grab my mail from the row of mailboxes in the entrance, then stepped further into the lobby to wait for the elevator. The door creaked open, and Mrs. Cooper, an elderly neighbor who also lived on my floor, stepped out.
“Hello there, dear,” she said. A fluffy, white kitten was clutched to her chest. “I was hoping to run into you.”
“Hi Mrs. Cooper. Who’s this little guy?”
“Oh, this little princess is Nellie.” She looked adoringly at the kitten and nuzzled her chin into its furry head. “Can you help me a minute? With my mail?”
“Sure, of course.” I took the key, which dangled from Mrs. Cooper’s knotted fingers, and opened her bin. A few large envelopes had been stuffed so tightly into the box that it took a few strategic wiggles to free them loose without tearing into the edges. I could see why Mrs. Cooper would have difficulties, especially with her arthritic knuckles.
I helped Mrs. Cooper into the elevator, listening half-heartedly to her ramblings, and a pang of guilt stabbed my heart when she spoke of Jasper, the cat she’d recently put down. Everyone on our floor knew how much she adored her feline friend.
“Lots of changes around here, dear,” Mrs. Cooper said, unlocking her apartment door. She leaned over to set Nellie down, then looked toward Dane’s unit, glancing to the newspaper pile that had once again accumulated at his doorstep. “That young man is such a gentleman. He’s been bringing me my mail every day, but he must not be home today.” She shook her head and kneaded her swollen fingers as she stood upright. “He brought me homemade cookies. Even ran out to buy me creamer yesterday when I told him I was out. Such a nice boy.” Her wrinkled face lit in a smile, and her eyes twinkled. “Everything is going to be fine, just fine.”
Mrs. Cooper took the pile of mail from my hands and thanked me before shutting the door behind herself. With the sound of her lock clicking into place, I moved toward my unit, but stopped outside Dane’s door. For all I knew, he was still at Bar Continental, chatting up Lori with her sugar-syrup voice.
Or maybe he’d gone somewhere else with her, back to her place.
Clenching my jaw, my mind raced down jealousy lane. I took a deep breath and decided it was time to shift gears. Both times Dane and I had run into Lori, he appeared annoyed by her which was easily accomplished with her garish nails and high-pitched voice. I couldn’t fault Dane for Lori’s interruptions, especially when he didn’t give any hint of interest toward her.
After hearing all the kind deeds Dane had done for Mrs. Cooper, I had to agree with her sentiment. Dane was a good guy. The concern and care over the last few days—not just for me, but old, sweet Mrs. Cooper—showed his true colors.
Actually, he’s wonderful. I’d said it myself.
My jaw relaxed as I stepped away from Dane’s door, but the address label on the paper caught my eye.
Mirabel Merano.
Of course, her name is Mira. An image of the young woman, inky black hair and big brown eyes, came and went, along with a resounding memory… Flowers and giggles.
Fifteen
The next morning, as I lifted into a side plank, my left hand reached toward the ceiling. I attempted to regulate my breathing and my thoughts.
Big breath in… hold… big breath out.
The buzzing of my cell nearly had me toppling over, my mind obviously not in the exercise. Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. The leasing office for my apartment complex flashed over Caller ID. Swiping across the screen, I breathily mustered a greeting into the mouthpiece.
“Ms. Nixon?” a chipper voice asked. “This is Holly from East Point. Just a friendly reminder your rent was due on the first.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “I mean shoot, sorry. It totally slipped my mind. I know it’s no excuse, but I was in an accident a few weeks ago and everything’s been a bit out of order since.”
“Oh, wow, I hope you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I’m much better. I’m so sorry; I’ll get the check to you right away.”
&
nbsp; “No problem, it happens. I would have called you sooner, but we’ve had issues with our accounting software and manually tracking these payments has been a mess. I’ll waive the late fee if you can stop by with a check today. The office is open until five, otherwise there’s the drop box outside.”
“I’ll be over in a bit.” I ended the call with a promise. The leasing office was located in the adjacent building, an easy walk over.
Grabbing the checkbook from inside my desk drawer, I glanced at my copy of the resignation letter to Loft before hastily writing out July’s rent. I’d always been organized, on top of things, but once again, the accident proved to do more damage than a knock on the head and a jolt to the ribs.
Another reason to pull yourself together. No more excuses, people have weathered far worse. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Firmly nodding in agreement with my inner voice, I slipped into flip flops and rushed out of the door.
Another newspaper had been added to the pile at Dane’s door. Mirabel Merano must’ve had a daily subscription. I picked up the top paper to bring along to the leasing office. Perhaps they could contact her for forwarding purposes.
Exiting through my building’s rear door, my thoughts wandered back to Dane. Why hadn’t he picked up the other paper last night? Did he actually go home with Lori?
More importantly, why did that thought make my blood boil?
Nearly seething with jealousy, I pushed the glass door to East Point’s office with more force than intended, causing the lady standing within to jump back a step.
“Sorry.” I sheepishly smiled.
She glanced to the check in my hand, then to the newspaper in the other. “Are you Novalee? That was fast.”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, and honestly, a little embarrassed this is so late.” I held the check out to her. “While I’m here, I thought I’d drop this off. Can you get in touch with my old neighbor, Mirabel Merano? She needs to forward her paper.”
“Mirabel Merano?”
“Yeah, apartment 204. They’re piling up.”