Tala

by Adrianna Morgan

  Layla stood up slowly, gathering her things. “Well, what is the impossible answer?”

  Martin let out the breath he was holding. “You are a werewolf.”

  *

  Chapter 2

  Layla rounded the corner and ran straight into Brett. She grabbed for her cup of coffee, almost breaking down into tears as she watched the beautiful nectar spill onto the concrete sidewalk.

  “Shit!” Brett ran his fingers through his hair. “I am so sorry! Layla, right? Are you okay?” He touched her arm lightly.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, just need to get another one.”

  “Hey, look, why don’t I just buy it for you? There’s a place down the street, maybe we could get a sandwich or something.”

  Layla felt her heart skip a few beats, and then she frowned. “Sorry, on my lunch break right now.” She could see the disappointment on his face and knew that it mirrored her own. She wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the afternoon in a coffee shop somewhere, eating a sandwich and staring at him like a love sick puppy. But she couldn’t. She was already in trouble for getting to work late this morning.

  She’d had the dreams again. Same dreams. Same sequence. Same result when she awoke; fan turned off, room like a furnace, body dripping with sweat. She could barely open her eyes this morning and the only thing that had kept her going was slowly evaporating in the Florida sun. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate on work, school and…life after being told she was a werewolf. Albeit the old guy was nuts, but it was still freaky.

  She looked up at Brett again, and his green eyes stared back at her similarly to her dreams. She swallowed. Damn he was hot. Layla wondered at her thought processing. She was a grown ass woman and she couldn’t seem to control herself when she was around him. It was annoying. She watched as he bent down to pick up her cup, the fabric of his jeans stretching taut over his butt and legs for a fraction of a second. She imagined her hands caressing that butt as she pulled him closer and tighter, making him go deeper—.

  “You okay?” His voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Was she? She could think of a few thinks that would make her better. Whoa, she thought to herself. Relax. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her brows furrowed. She remembered his question and gave a noncommittal shrug, hoping it wasn’t too obvious where her mind was.

  “Just thinking about the coffee.”

  Brett touched her arm gently, “Hey, I am really sorry. Promise I will make it up to you.” He smiled and Layla felt her knees weaken.

  Perhaps it was the sun, she thought. The sun was known for making people have crazy thoughts. It was a nice day out. The sun was shining quite brightly and even though she was fully clothed, she still felt a little chilly which was odd in this weather.

  “No problem,” she smiled back. She glanced at her watch, and groaned as she realized her break was over, which meant she really had no time to stand around and chat, much less get another cup of coffee. She looked apologetically at Brett. “So sorry, but I have to get back. Break’s over.” She smiled again as she hitched her purse higher onto her shoulder.

  Brett shrugged, his hands in his pockets, now stretching the fabric across his—.

  “Don’t even go there,” she whispered to herself. She thought she saw the corner of Brett’s mouth quirk upwards for a fraction of a second, but dismissed it as her imagination.

  “Come on,” he said as he grabbed her hand, “I’ll walk you back.” They quickly walked across the street, her hand tightly grasped in his. “Administration, right?”

  She nodded, secretly glad and mortified that he was still holding her hand as they entered the overly cool Florida building. She shivered and frowned. Lately, it seemed as if they kept it so cold inside. It was making her almost too uncomfortable to work.

  Brett looked down at her. “Hey, I promise to make up the coffee.” He leaned forward as if to kiss her then stopped, his eyes widening slightly.

  Layla nodded as she quickly opened the ‘employees only’ door and walked to her cubicle. She sat down and put her head in her hands for a second as she silently screamed. She raised her head and groaned as she saw the mountain of work that still covered her desk. Well, no time like the present, she thought, as she picked up the file on the top of the pile and leafed through. Layla was on file number three when her phone rang.

  “Layla Donovan,” she answered tiredly.

  “Layla!”

  She immediately recognized Shawna’s voice. “What’s up girl?” she asked, still flipping through files.

  “Girl, there is a Greek god up front holding a cup of coffee for you!”

  Layla dropped the file she was holding. “Shit.” She scrambled to retrieve the pieces of paper that represented one prospective student’s entire collegiate career. “I’ll be right there,” she told Shawna before she hung up. She hurried to the front desk where she saw Brett standing with huge cup of coffee. He smiled when he saw her and she smiled back, nervously glancing at the closed door of her supervisor.

  “Told you I would make it up to you,” he smiled, holding out the coffee.

  Layla took it greedily, drinking a huge gulp before looking up and smiling back at him. “Thank you. You don’t know how much I needed this.”

  Brett nodded, his hands in his pockets again. “Hey, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot the other night, so I was wondering if I could continue to make it up to you by inviting you to dinner.”

  Layla looked up at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. “So is this like a date?”

  He laughed, “Possibly.”

  She bit her bottom lip contemplatively. “Then I guess I should accept.”

  “Awesome, pick you up at 7 tonight?”

  “7 is good. Wait,” Layla called as Brett turned away. “You don’t even know where I live!”

  He winked at her, “Sure I do…I moved in yesterday down the hall.” He laughed at her expression as he gave a little wave and walked back out into the Florida sunshine.

  Layla walked back to her desk, catching Shawna’s eye on her way. I’ll call you, she mouthed, seeing the way Shawna eyed her then nodded. She turned to sit and groaned when she saw her supervisor walking her way.

  “Ms. Donovan?”

  Layla picked up the file she’d been working on, unintentionally holding it as a shield in front of her. “Yes, Mrs. Cantrell?”

  Mrs. Cantrell stood in front of Layla’s desk, her 200 pound frame squeezed into a suit designed for someone half that size. “Did you not just get done with break?”

  Layla felt her smile falter for a second. Dammit! “Yes,” she answered slowly.

  Cantrell continued, “And yet, not ten minutes after your break, you seem to be taking another one.”

  Layla shook her head. “No, I wasn’t. I was simply refilling my cup of coffee.”

  “Brought to you by the gentleman who walked you back from break.”

  Layla sighed, “Mrs. Cantrell, he is simply a friend of mine. He bumped into me outside during my break and spilled my coffee. He bought me a new coffee to replace the one he’d spilled.” She halted her flow as Cantrell raised a hand.

  “Ms. Donavon. This is a place of business. The next time you need to meet a friend, I suggest you do it on your own time.” She turned and walked away, leaving Layla rolling her eyes behind her.

  She sat down heavily, slapping the file back onto the desk. Two seconds later her phone rang. “Layla Donovan,” she interjected some pep into her voice.

  “Sorry, girl,” Shawna said, “Cantrell showed up before I say anything.”

  Layla sighed, “It’s okay, but oh—she gets on my nerves.”

  Shawna laughed, her voice reverberating through the phone causing Layla’s head to start throbbing. “Well, just wanted to see if you were still alive. But you will call me and tell me all about that deliciousness that was in here to see you, right?”

  Layla laughed coyly. “Maybe,” she
said and then hung up the phone before Shawna could say anything else.

  Layla eyed the clock. She had work then class and then a date. She was going to be so tired. At least she wouldn’t sleep with him. Not tonight. She would probably fall asleep in the car, so sex on the first date was definitely out. She imagined Brett naked. She hoped he wasn’t hairy. He had that beautiful dark hair, so long and thick and she hoped that did not translate to long and thick body hair. She tried to remember the way he’d looked in his T-shirt. She tried to remember if he was hairy, but she could only see were his green eyes staring back at her.

  *

  Brett hurried home. He needed to get ready for tonight. He could hear the fatigue in Layla’s voice and that was good. If she really was a Were, it would be easy getting her to admit it tonight, especially if she was too tired to think straight. He knew she had a class after work and he was counting on her not missing class. He needed to know what she knew. He needed to find Suzette.

  He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. Someone was watching him. He slowly breathed in the surrounding air, allowing the scents to mingle in his nostrils as they followed a neuro pathway to his brain. He stood still allowing his senses to work for him. He knew that the watcher was smart. They stayed downwind, so he was unable to identify their scent. But he would not allow them to get any closer. He needed to make sure Suzette hadn’t found him first. He walked quickly to a narrow alley, tensed his legs and in what seemed like seconds, he’d disappeared.

  Martin walked carefully into the alley. He knew the young man was gone. He wasn’t sure how, but he kept his hand on his knife. He knew there was something odd about the young man. He could smell it but he couldn’t remember what it was. It was there, on the edge of his brain. A memory so old, that he would have to sift through years of thoughts to figure it out.

  He would have to keep a closer eye on Layla. He couldn’t let Suzette get her hands on her, not quite yet and he was not ready to let her go without a fight. He stooped down, taking in the scent of the young man. There was something on the tip of his memory, but time and distance had dulled it. He would remember eventually, he always did.

  *

  Layla smoothed her dress over her hips. She was nervous. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and looked at the time. 6:55 pm. Damn. She had five minutes to do nothing. She couldn’t even walk to his apartment because she didn’t know which one it was and it would look desperate, she thought. It was only five minutes. She dug into her purse and pulled out one of the energy drinks she’d bought. She swallowed the little bottle of magic juice and threw the empty plastic bottle into the trash. She was fiddling with a magnet on the fridge when she felt him. She literally felt him. The air felt different, it was like a thick fog that rippled as he neared. She could smell him; a mixture of heat from his fresh shower, soap and him. He smelled delectable. She licked her lips. This was going to be interesting.

  Layla opened the door a split second after he knocked and he arched a brow in surprise. Was she starting to sense him? She looked him up and down, her pink bottom lip clutched between her white teeth. He held out his arms wide. “Do I pass?” he asked, as she blushed.

  Layla rolled her eyes and licked her bottom lip. He looked at good as he smelled. His jeans were form fitting but not cowboy or skinny jeans tight and he wore a light colored preppy button down shirt. His dark hair was long and hung to his shoulders, which made him look like an exotic mixture of Hispanic and Native American. He still wore sneakers but it added to his appeal. She closed her eyes briefly inhaling the spicy maleness of him and sighed. Brett’s low chuckle brought her out of her trance.

  “Hey, I have an excuse,” she said saucily, “I haven’t had any sleep. Right now, any clean male looks good to me.”

  He clapped a hand over his heart. “Ouch!” he grinned, “Of course you look ravishing.”

  Layla rolled her eyes as she turned to lock her front door. “You are too much.”

  “That’s what she said,” he quipped.

  “But not to you,” Layla responded without missing a beat.

  Brett laughed, “Score one for the stunning lady!” He grabbed her hand again and she smiled secretly. “Come on, let’s go!” He led her down the stairs of the two story apartment building. He stopped, pointing to an apartment five doors down. “Just so you know, that one’s mine.” She nodded, making a mental note of his apartment number and he continued to lead her towards his car.

  He stopped in front of a metal grey Chevy Camaro. Layla whistled. “Wow, you must make really good money as a bartender.”

  Brett laughed again as he helped her into the low seat. He ran around to the driver’s side and hopped in, folding his long legs into the car. He turned to her and winked, “I’ll tell you a secret,” he paused for dramatic effect, then continued, “Buy used. Costs a lot less than new at a dealership.”

  Layla smiled. Regardless, this used car was still out of her budget as a ‘public relations specialist’ at the College. She was barely making above minimum wage and her money went straight to bills. But she was fine. She was working towards her degree and she was almost done. A few more classes and she could tell Cantrell to kiss the deepest depths of her ass. She looked at Brett’s long, strong fingers as he started the car, then flicked on the radio and inserted a CD. She turned towards him with a puzzled look. “Michael Buble?”

  Brett raised both brows. “It’s what the ladies like and I have to please the ladies.” He started singing along with the crooner, his voice even and deep as his eyes twinkled mischievously at her. He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”

  “So I can give you my number,” he answered matter-of-factly.

  Layla blushed a bit as she handed over the slim cell phone. He quickly pressed a few keys before handing the phone back to her.

  “Where are you taking me?” She asked as they zoomed down the tree-lined street. She wanted to warn him to slow down as the Gulfport police were notorious for setting speed traps. As if sensing her trepidation, he eased up on the accelerator and the car slowed to a safer speed.

  “I’m not telling you just yet,” he answered her. “You have to wait and see.”

  Layla sat back in her seat and pretended not to stare at him. She knew he was aware of her staring and she was glad that he didn’t call her out. The car whipped into a parking lot and before Layla could get her bearings, he opened her door and helped her out of her seat.

  “Madame,” he gestured behind him. “Welcome to paradise.”

  Layla looked around her at the dazzling lights and the throngs of people. She laughed loudly.

  “What?” Brett asked, confused.

  Layla sobered up and looked at him. “You do know I was born and raised in this city, right?”

  He nodded.

  “So you take a girl from Gulfport on a date to the Gulfport Native American Heritage Festival?”

  He looked a bit sheepish. “Been here before?”

  She nodded and laughed again, “Only about 100 times!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “But because you are new to our fair city, I’ll stay and show you around.” She looked back at him, “And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been here in years.” She walked him towards the ticket booth where they purchased two entry passes.

  Brett rolled his eyes as the guy at the ticket counter called out to Layla.

  “Went to middle school with him,” she said.

  They walked among the rows of people, some Native American, others not, all selling everything from “authentic” dreamcatchers to a pair of flip-flops featuring the Florida State University mascot, the Seminole Indian. Layla shook her head at the sellers trying to encourage her to buy their wares and forced herself not to smile at Brett’s expense each time someone called out to her or said hello.

  Brett pulled her towards a tent advertising alligator wrestling and bought two tickets to the next show in an hour. They
then moved towards a booth selling Native American art and Layla watched the intensity on Brett’s face as he leafed through the multitudes of paintings, carvings and sculptures, finally settling for a clichéd ‘grey wolf howling at the moon at night’ painting. It was different; the wolf wasn’t as cleanly painted as many of the others, so she guessed this was actually an original and not a photocopy. Upon closer inspection, the painting wasn’t that bad, and although there were a lot of smudgy areas and places in shadow, Brett seemed happy with his purchase and Layla didn’t want to spoil the mood.

  She heard his stomach growl and spun on her heel. “You have to try this,” she told him as she pulled him along. “It’s the best thing ever.” They walked to a nearby booth selling food, where Layla ordered two giant turkey legs. Before she could reach into her purse, Brett whipped out his wallet and handed a crisp 20 dollar bill to the cashier.

  She thanked him before whispering, “Just so you know, you don’t have to pay for everything.”

  Brett leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips. “Just so you know, I do.” He walked over to the seating area, leaving Layla standing there, holding her purse and her turkey leg with a surprised smile on her face. Layla felt her face flush as he looked back at her. He grinned and she resisted the playful urge to flip him off. She grinned back and went to join him.

  The seating area was crowded and as they picked their way through the people, Layla realized there were no more seats. “Oh crap.”

  Brett looked down at her. “What?”

  She held out her dress, the sides clasped tightly together in one hand to avoid giving someone a free peep show.

  Brett nodded his understanding, “Oh.” He saw a spot near the lake, out in the open, but away from most of the crowd. Quicker than she would have thought possible, he arrived at the spot, much to the dismay of another couple who had their eye on the spot and waited for Layla to catch up.