by K. M. Hodge
The cold February winds whipped at Katherine, causing her to grip the side of the car for balance, and to wonder if even nature was conspiring against her.
She scanned the dimly lit bar and spotted him at the far end, fingering an empty shot glass. He had wavy, dark brown hair cut in a style that was outdated but looked perfect on him. His tall lanky form, five o’clock shadow and rumpled Men’s Wearhouse type of suit looked almost comical next to the excessively wealthy regular patrons, in their tailored Armani suits and Donna Karan ties. There was something else, though, that made none of the other stuff matter: he was one of those guys that exuded sex. His good looks and no doubt charm had most likely left many women waiting for a call the next day.
She had heard through the Bureau grapevine that he was one of the hottest agents to ever step foot in the D.C. office.
***
He tapped his tar-stained fingers on the bar and mentally cursed whoever had initiated the smoking ban for this small town. Signs posted all over the bar warned patrons not to light up inside or within 200 feet of the entrance. He hated waiting, especially when he couldn’t smoke. It had been a long day, and the cigarettes he smoked in the car on the long ride over hadn’t quelled his anxiety. Since that was out, he’d decided to drink instead, and two shots of Bushmills Irish Whiskey later his anxiety had only worsened.
The clock on his phone told him she was already twenty minutes late.
A cold blast of air hit his back, and he turned on the bar stool to face the front door. The woman who had kept him waiting stood in the entrance. Maybe some things are worth waiting for. He took in every detail, as if he hadn’t pored over her personnel file with a fine toothed comb, memorizing every detail.
She stood five-foot ten—six feet in those heels—with a small athletic frame. He’d heard she was part of the FBI running club, ran upwards of five miles a day, and it showed. Her fitted black suit probably cost more than his entire wardrobe. The red soles of her expensive-looking shoes matched her long curly hair, which reminded him of the bald cypress trees in the fall.
She was beautiful, prepossessingly so.
He swallowed hard as he took her in. Damn. He adjusted his thrift store tie and smoothed out his suit, suddenly concerned about his own appearance and what she might think of him.
She blushed under the weight of his heavy, inquisitive gaze, but regained her composure and walked towards him with her hand extended in greeting. “Special Agent Bailey?”
He took her hand in a firm grasp and smiled. “Please, call me Alex. You must be Katherine. Do you want to sit at the bar or get a table?”
“The bar is fine.”
Alex, ever the consummate gentleman, nodded and held out his arm to let her go ahead of him. He couldn’t help but notice her toned calf muscles flex as she took her seat at the bar. He shook his head to try and regain his focus.
The bartender, Nin, smiled at Katherine as she took her seat at the bar. “Usual?” Nin asked.
Katherine nodded and he turned back to pour her a glass of tonic with a twist of lime. When he returned with it, she took a sip of her tonic water and set it back down.
Without thinking, Alex ordered another drink. He had begun to find it harder and harder to keep it together, and tonight’s drinks were only adding fuel to the fire that was already threatening to turn into an out of control blaze.
He rotated his stool inward towards his new partner. “So, Special Agent Ka-ther-ine Mitchel, what brought you into the FBI?” His words began to slur together a little, not drunk, but on the fast track to getting there.
She tilted her head slightly. “I was recruited right out of school. I had been in Cambridge, here in Virginia, getting my Doctorate in Psychology.”
“Yes, but what made you choose law enforcement?”
“My father was a US Marshal. He died on duty when I was a teenager, and I was impressed with the FBI agents that handled the investigation.”
He brushed her hand. “I’m sorry, that must have been hard losing your father that way at such a young age.”
“What about you? Why did you join the FBI?”
He took a sip of whiskey. “I wanted to have a cool badge.”
Katherine’s cheeks pinked as she chuckled at his joke. “The word around the Bureau is that you’re on the FBI fast track, having solved some pretty high profile cases, and that you were one of the top agents in the Counter Terrorism Division.”
“Don’t believe all the rumors you hear.”
She let out a short laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Her right brow arched up. “All of the rumors? I’ve heard other more interesting ones.”
He flashed a smile and finished the rest of his shot. The sober part of his brain advised that he needed to slow down before he slipped and made a fatal error in judgment. The louder part of his brain screamed that he should focus only on the beautiful woman in front of him and the sound of her laughter. A part of him wanted to make her laugh for the rest of his life, even if it was at his expense. He must be drunk already, he thought, because he was starting to sound like one of those ridiculous men in the awful Nicholas Sparks books Sara always read out loud to him.
He needed to snap out of this. Women had always been his kryptonite.
The small band in the far corner of the bar started to play a slow romantic tune, At Last. His impulsive streak kicked in, and he took her by the hand towards the dimly lit dance floor.
As he led her into a slow waltz, Katherine leaned into him. He pulled her small frame up against his and persuaded her body into a conversation that left both of them a little breathless.
His voice a bit husky, he whispered in her ear, “I love this song.”
“Me too.” Her face and neck flushed to match her hair.
Alex smiled, encouraged by her response. Katherine was a perfect partner, so he added small turns and dips that made her smile. The lessons he had taken in college were coming in handy.
All the twists and spins began to be his undoing, though, as his knees started to wobble and the whiskey that sloshed around in his gut threatened to make a reprise. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on her, on her smell—gardenias. His train of thought followed a myopic track of wanting and, engrossed in her smell and touch, he didn’t see it coming.
The first punch caught Alex square in the jaw. His hands went up to cup his wounded face as he shot an angry glare at his assailant. “What the fuck?”
A blonde, stocky man about half his height grabbed Katherine by the arm and yanked her out of the way, then served another sharp blow to Alex’s jaw.
Though stunned at first, the second punch sobered Alex enough to respond. He rushed with all his weight into his assailant’s center of gravity, his momentum causing them both to tumble against the back wall of the bar. His pointed shoulder bone dug into the other man’s solar plexus.
The dance floor cleared, with one of the couples helping a stunned Katherine to her feet, and the band stopped playing. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched the fight unfold, leaving the grunts and movements of the two fighting men the only sounds in the bar.
The bouncer stepped in to break up the fight. At 6’5” and 300 pounds, this took little effort.
The collar of Alex’s shirt jerked back, choking him.
His assailant turned on Katherine, grabbing her arm and pulling her up close to him. “You bitch!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter and an engagement ring. “What the hell is this?”
Her eyes widened in fear. “Charles!”
Nin stepped in and gently placed a hand on Charles’s taut shoulder. “Everyone is watching, sir. Perhaps now is not the time for this.”
Charles looked at Katherine with disgust and released her from his grip. He shrugged off some of the anger and walked over to Nin, addressing him with a controlled rage. “I don’t want either one of them to ever come in here again. Is that understood?” Charles commanded as he straightened Nin’s tie.
; “Of course, sir,” Nin replied, strangled from the tightened necktie.
“Tiny, take him out!”
Tiny? Why are only giant men called Tiny?
“You heard the man. Time for you to go sober-up, little buddy,” the man said to Alex.
Alex stared up at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? He started it.”
The giant man kept dragging him out the door.
“Why aren’t you throwing him out, too?” Alex demanded.
The bouncer shook his head. “Mr. Charles owns the place, and you were dancing with his girl. You pissed off the wrong dude, my friend.”
As the bouncer yanked him out the bar door, Alex heard Charles say to Katherine, “Don’t think I’m finished with you, and next time there won’t be a crowd around to protect you.”
Tiny tossed him out of the bar—like a bag of trash—causing him to stumble and almost fall on the concrete. The rush of cold air sobered Alex up. He walked over and sat on the nearest parking stump to wait for Katherine, cursing himself as Charles peeled out of the parking lot in his over-sized truck.
Katherine stepped out of the bar and stopped outside the entrance, watching as the taillights of Charles’s truck disappeared down the long dark highway.
Alex rose from his hiding spot and touched her arm, startling her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Katherine nodded in a haze as he continued. “I hope I didn’t mess things up between you two.”
“No, that had nothing to do with you. I... I left him tonight.” A small sob escaped her tightly clasped lips.
Alex reached into his jacket and handed her a crisp white handkerchief. “Hey, are you going to be okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine, Alex.” She examined the handkerchief, thumbing over the cross-stitched monogram on the corner, and dabbed at her eyes.
He gently reeled her into his open embrace and she let him. As she looked up at him and began to pull away, he lowered his head and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.
Katherine startled. “Alex....” She put her hand on his chest to put some space between them.
He rubbed his forehead and winced. Time to sober up, indeed. “I’m sorry.”
Katherine frowned and her eyes narrowed as she stood in front of him clutching the handkerchief.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, I think I might have had one too many tonight.” He hiccupped back a burp.
She exhaled and rolled her eyes a little at him. “Come on, I can’t very well let you drive yourself home.”
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into Alex’s apartment parking lot.
“Want to come in... for a cup of coffee or something?” he asked, stepping out of the car.
She offered a kind smile. “No, I think I should get going. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Alex flashed her a thousand watt smile and headed up to his apartment.
***
Jason’s Apartment
Danville, Virginia
February 29, 2008
10:00 PM
~~~
After a long day at the newspaper, Jason Knettle had at last settled in for the night with a glass of scotch and a good book, when his cellphone rang.
“Knettle speaking.”
“Hey, Knettle, it’s me,” Katherine said. She sounded frazzled.
“Hey, Red, what’s up?”
“Can I crash at your place for the night?”
Jason’s heart raced at the thought, and he answered without question. “Of course you can.”
He heard her breathe in deeply. “Great. I’ll be there in a bit.”
With that she hung up, leaving Jason with the phone still pressed against his ear. Feeling foolish, he tossed it on the sofa.
He and Katherine had been friends for years. The day they met had been an unseasonably hot and humid day. It seemed like eons ago. Jason worked as an intern for the Danville Press, which his family owned, and was on his first assignment to cover the class of ‘94’s homecoming game. Katherine was a freshman in college at the time, and her sister Addie was a junior at the high school.
Katherine had volunteered to work the concessions stand. She had worn her class of ‘93 fighting Bobcats tee shirt and a pair of faded blue jean shorts that brought attention to her long tan legs. Her wavy red hair hung in two short pigtails that brushed against her shoulders when she moved.
It had been one of those freak fall days where the temperatures shot into the eighties.
***
Jason arrived already dripping with sweat from his walk from the parking lot. He made a beeline for the concessions stand—desperate for a Coke—and found her instead. It was love or lust at first sight—he wasn’t sure. Instead of mentally cursing his father for making him sit through a high school football game, he tried to come up with something clever to say that might win the heart of the beautiful woman before him.
When he reached the front of the line, she smiled at him, making his world turn upside down and inside out.
“You look like you could use something cool to drink,” she said. When she smiled, her perfectly aligned teeth glistened, mesmerizing him further, but her smile faded, perhaps after seeing how peaked he had become.
“Sir, are you alright?” she asked.
No sooner did she say this, he fainted right there at the counter.
The next thing he knew he was lying down in the shade with his head in her lap. As she cooled him down with the wet rag, he wondered if he had died and gone to Heaven.
“Here, take a sip of this water,” she said, and looked him in the eye.
Jason smiled back at her and complied with her wishes by taking slow sips of the cool water. “What happened?” He tried to sit up, only to have the dizziness overcome him, and he lay back down again.
“Take it easy. You fainted,” she said.
He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he groaned. “I’m supposed to be covering the game for the Danville Press.” He flashed his press card.
She smiled. “You really weren’t dressed for the weather.” She nodded towards his white oxford shirt and black dress pants, which clung to him like a second skin.
Jason smiled back at her and laughed a little to himself. “No, I suppose I wasn’t. In my defense, I did leave the suit jacket in the car.”
When she smiled back at him with a wide easy grin and a short chuckle, he thought he might be in danger of fainting again.
“My name is Katherine, by the way.” Her eyes squinted as she looked down at him.
After an awkward pause he found his voice. “Jason. Jason Knettle.”
They ended up watching the game together. Jason even bought and changed into a Bobcats tee shirt and baseball cap. They found out they knew many of the same people, but had never met because he had gone to a private school for boys in Rhode Island. They talked for hours about what their plans for the future were and what they wanted to accomplish.
Katherine told him how she planned to go to graduate school for psychology, and how she planned to pursue a career in law enforcement.
Jason told her about his dream of being a novelist like his grandfather, and how his father had his mind set that Jason would take over as Editor-in-Chief of the Danville Press. He offered to show her some of his short stories and a novel he had written.
***
Through the years, their friendship had grown and, even though she had never shown any sign of reciprocating his feelings, he loved her beyond reason. He’d remained single through the years, and dated so infrequently that people at the paper were beginning to wonder if he might not be gay.
A knock at his apartment door made him jump. Even though she had her own key, she always knocked—another way she kept him at a distance.
He took a deep breath and raked his long lanky fingers through his short dark hair, then rose from his overstuffed sofa and answered the door. The moment he opened the door, Katherine rushed through it and into his arms, almost knocking him down.
“Oomph,” he no
isily exhaled from the force.
He held her tightly to him as he led her over to the couch, helping her sit down. It took him several minutes to calm her down. When she at last stopped sobbing, he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. She curled into his arms, and he held her the entire night without saying a word.
***
The next morning, Katherine awoke to the morning light shining in her eyes. As she began to wake up, she became aware that she wasn’t in her apartment. Groaning, she rubbed her face with the palms of her hands.
This morning habit woke Jason, who was sleeping beside her on the sofa. “Red...?” he asked, half awake.
Katherine groaned again as yesterday’s events came back to her. “I left Charles,” she blurted out.
After a long agonizing pause, Jason responded, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She sighed. “No, not really.” Almost to the point of tears, she continued. “I....”
Jason knitted his brow. “What?” he asked more forcefully this time.
Katherine shook her head and mumbled, “It’s nothing.”
Jason’s eyebrows lowered and his eyes narrowed. “No, if it was nothing you wouldn’t be so upset.” He called out her BS, as usual.
Katherine clutched the edge of the couch.
He covered her white-knuckled grip with his hand in an effort to comfort her. “You can talk to me.” His voice carried a soothing tone that made her heart hurt.
She feigned a smile. “I know. It’s just....” She choked on her words.
“He didn’t hit you again, did he? Because if he did—”
She held up her hand. “No, no it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what is it, Katherine?” He again knitted his brows in frustration.
Katherine diverted her eyes from his intense gaze and instead looked at her shoes.
“Katherine....”
She turned to face him, forcing back unshed tears. “Please just drop it, J. Can you just be happy with the fact that I left him?”