Steady (Indigo)

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Steady (Indigo) Page 12

by Robinson, Ruthie


  “Darius Williams,” Amber said to her, looking her in the eye, and then turning to face the two men. “This is the person I was telling you about, the one who can do wonders with plants. Katrina, meet Darius and Javier.” Darius put down his cup to shake Katrina’s hand.

  “Katrina, Darius owns two restaurants in town, and we’ve eaten at both, The Vegetable Garden and the Vegetable Pot.”

  “Yes, I have, and the food is great,” Katrina said.

  “And this is Javier,” Amber said.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Hi, Darius, hi, Javier,” Katrina said. The introductions confirmed Katrina’s suspicion that this had been Amber’s true purpose all along, and so now she needed to implement the second part of her plan. Amber had turned to speak to a woman who’d walked up to her.

  “Hello,” Darius said. “Amber tells me you are quite the gardener.”

  “Yep, I do like to garden.” Keep answers simple; don’t follow up a question with a question. She turned her head and looked around the room, deploying another tactic in her arsenal—indifference.

  “So Amber tells me you work with her at the bank?” This from Darius again.

  “Yes, we work in the same division.”

  “How do you like it?” he asked.

  “It’s okay. Gardening is what I love, though.”

  “Oh, really?” he said.

  Here goes nothing, Katrina thought. “Yes, I love flowers. The lantana plant is especially my favorite. Its more formal name is the Lantana horrida, which is the name for the native Texas lantana. I also like the Lycoris radiate, that’s the formal name for the lily. It grows as an annual and you can set it out early without having to worry about frost, plus it comes in several varieties: Celebrity Carnival, Salsa, Porter, and my favorites, Brandywine and Whopper.”

  Katrina continued to talk about flowers for another five minutes, not letting either of them get a word in edgewise. At the four-minute mark, she inwardly smiled. There it was, that glazed-over expression in their eyes. She internally patted herself on the back. She loved it when a plan came together. Stopping to take a breath, Katrina watched Darius and Javier furtively looking around the room, seeking an escape.

  “You know, I need to find the restroom,” she said, helping them out. They looked relieved. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Amber walked over to them.

  “Is Katrina playing a game with you? She does that at times. Talks incessantly about her gardening; it’s a ruse to make you think she’s boring,” said Amber, cutting her eyes at Katrina. Darius looked at her through new eyes and smiled.

  Javier still wanted out. “There’s Mike,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to him about our next meeting. It was nice meeting you, Katrina,” he said before moving quickly away.

  Thank God, she thought she heard him say as he walked away.

  “So you were playing us?” Darius asked, starting to laugh. Katrina was trying to hold back her grin, her eyes bright from suppressed laughter.

  “She can be crafty, our Katrina,” Amber said.

  “Is that so?” Darius remarked.

  “Yes, it is,” she said, looking sharply at Katrina. “Now cut it out.” She walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

  “Cut what out?” Katrina asked to her back, still pretending innocence.

  “So, trying to scare us away?” he asked.

  “Be honest, it was working before Amber said something,” she said, grinning.

  “Yes, it was,” he said, and laughed with her. Maybe she could like this one, and what wasn’t to like—tall, slim, milk chocolate-brown skin, owned his own profitable business. But of course, Will popped into her head.

  She remained at the meeting for another hour, spent mostly talking to Darius about gardening, his businesses, and the possibility of hers. After she finished talking with Darius, Amber came back for her, taking her around, introducing her to others in their group. All were nice and encouraging, singing the praises of owning their own businesses and giving advice. She added it all to her store of information. An hour later she was headed for the door when Darius intercepted her.

  “Leaving?” he asked.

  “Yes, work tomorrow,” she said.

  “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you,” he said smiling and starting to laugh again, remembering her earlier stunt.

  “The same,” she said, and meant it. And then she, too, laughed.

  “May I call you sometime?” he asked, watching indecision flicker on her face. She had been funny, a little on the smart-mouthed side, but he liked women who challenged him and he’d enjoyed talking to her. “Come on,” he said, seeing her resistance. “My tomatoes might get sick, and my doctor doesn’t make house calls,” he said, winking at her.

  “That was so weak,” she said, laughing, “but okay.” She took a business card from her purse and scribbled her cell number on the back.

  “Take care, Katrina. It was nice meeting you,” he said.

  “You too,” she said, walking away.

  Amber walked over to him and they both watched her leave.

  “Told you she was nice,” she said.

  “Yes, you were right, but don’t start again with the match-making, I’m nowhere near ready,” he said.

  ***

  CHAPTER 6

  Friday evening. It was dark out save for the lighting in Will’s backyard. He held a hose turned to the hard-stream setting and was cleaning some of the algae that had formed on the top rocks of his pond. Mindless work, really, but relaxing. He had just finished fishing out the leaves from his pond, trying to avoid the koi, glad for a break. Work seemed to be in overdrive, this being the first free night he’d had all week; he was home early, too. It was a sad state of events when 8 p.m. was considered early. He looked up when he heard the back door to his home slide open and watched Josey step out, clad in jeans that had to have been spray-painted on. She walked toward him, a grin on her face and plenty of female swagger in her step. She was tall like him and had passed up striking, probably at age ten, moving on to dazzling, with her long brown hair, and golden tan. She exuded vitality.

  “I don’t know why you insist on playing the field worker. There are plenty of people one can pay to do this for you,” she said, coming to stand behind him, putting her hands around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder, and turning to kiss his neck.

  “It’s relaxing,” he said.

  “I can come up with other things that are far more relaxing than this,” she said, moving her hand upward, following the contours of his chest, and continuing to kiss him. He turned off the water, letting the hose fall to the ground, and turned to her, his hands going around her waist, pulling her in close, searching for her lips.

  “Glad you invited me over?” she asked between kisses.

  “Yes,” he said against her lips.

  “You’re going to love me then,” she said, pulling back and smiling. “I brought dinner.”

  He didn’t answer, just smiled against her lips, resuming his onslaught of her mouth, finding her tongue and playing with it a while before guiding her back through his gardens. He pulled back and smiled. “How about we eat later? I’m a different kind of hungry,” he said, turning and pulling her behind him into his home.

  ***

  His cell alarm was going off; he’d set it for 5:30, plenty of time for him to shower and eat before he was due at the gardens. Time to meet his maker, or close to it. He was tired and hadn’t factored in Josey, or a difficult and long week, when he had signed up for this. Josey was still sleeping, her long hair spilling over her shoulders and across the pillow. Josey had most of what he preferred in a woman—athletic, adventurous, independent, and fun, but, more importantly, she wasn’t interested in being committed. A woman after his own heart. If he ever considered permanence, she would make a fine candidate. For some reason, Katrina wearing her Gardeners do it in the dirt shirt popped into his mind. He shook his head to clear it.

&
nbsp; He sat up and moved his legs to the floor, the movement waking Josey.

  “You’re not leaving already?” she asked, pushing hair away from her eyes.

  “Yep, I’ve got to work at the gardens this morning, part of that gardening competition I told you about.”

  “Yuck, dirt and bugs. Why would you want to put yourself through that?”

  “I like it,” he responded. “Go back to sleep. I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay, but let me give you something first,” she said, sitting up and scooting out of the bed, walking over to stand in front of him, beautiful in her nakedness. “I need something to sustain me while you’re gone. Who knows when I’ll see you or when you’ll call me again,” she said, pushing him back down to lie on the bed and then straddling his body. His eyes went to the clock on his nightstand; he had time, but he’d have to keep it short, maybe forgo breakfast. He extended his arm, trying to reach his nightstand for a condom.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” she said, stretching her arm out, pulling one from the partly open drawer, tearing it open with her teeth, and then placing it on him.

  “Much better,” she said, lifting her body and settling down on his, slowly taking him into her. She leaned forward and groaned, her mouth trailing kisses over his body, taking the scenic route over stomach, chest, and neck before arriving at his mouth. Finding his lips, she settled hers on top. She moaned at the upward movement of his hips, reminding her to move. She kissed him, seeking his tongue as she started to move. His hands reached for her hips, helping her as she moved up and down. He assisted, lifting her and then pushing her hips firmly downward, slowly, letting her find her rhythm, watching the expression on her face change as she got lost in the sensation of having him in her.

  He gave her a few minutes on her own before taking over, increasing the pace, watching and then feeling her reach her climax, pulling him along. He came quietly, a sharp intake of air the only sound he made. He let her lie there for a few minutes, both catching their breath, relaxed and ready to start the day . . . he was, anyway; she still lay languid across his chest.

  “I got to go, don’t want to be late,” he said.

  “Explain to me again why you’re doing this?”

  He lifted her off him. “I want to.” He gave her a kiss before getting up and going to the bathroom. He had to move a little faster now. No way was he going to be late, but he smiled a little at the thought of what Katrina would say if he was.

  About ten minutes later, Josey said, “Don’t forget to call me.”

  “I won’t,” he said over his shoulder as he hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, preprogrammed, before walking through the front door and out to his jeep. It was quiet out. He appreciated the early morning; it was free of sound, free of movement. The only part of him that he kept to himself was his interest in horticulture, not a topic he brought up much with his boys. G knew, but it was one of the few things about himself he didn’t share openly.

  He had to trust that the other person would treat that part of himself, the part he most valued, with care. It wasn’t just the subject that he didn’t share, but more what it did for him. Its influence was both calming and centering for him, and had been for as far back as he could remember.

  Josey and others spent time at his home often and they all had admired his backyard, but it wasn’t of interest to them, not really; he’d yet to meet one who was truly interested in that part of him. Most weren’t even aware that he’d done the design and actual landscaping. They’d been more interested in other aspects of his life, ones they considered more fun, more interesting, and more lucrative. He never considered that he’d find someone who shared his love for gardening, his need for it. Yep, that was something he’d continue to keep way down low.

  ***

  “So what do you think of my idea?” Katrina asked.

  “It should work,” Thomas said, winking. “Just remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  “He’s not on my bad side. I just want to show him the level of work required for the competition.”

  “Sure, Katrina,” he said skeptically, stopping and turning around.

  “What?”

  “We aren’t to give him any equipment that would make his job easier. If we do give him anything, it has to be the old, slightly broken stuff. That is more than measuring his work ethic,” Thomas said.

  “Okay, maybe it is, but so what?”

  “I’m just saying,” he replied, raising his hands in surrender.

  “I know, I know,” she said, quiet now, looking over at him. “Still going to help me?”

  “Yes, I am, but only because I like you,” he said, smiling at her.

  “I’ll bring him over to you when he gets here and I’ll pick him up before lunch,” she said to Thomas’s retreating back. He lifted a hand in acknowledgment as he walked away.

  It was bright and early Saturday morning, and Katrina hadn’t slept much the night before. She had been too excited on a variety of levels. As always, the possibility of spending time with Will was appealing. He would be hers for the day; not quite in the way she would have wanted, but she would take what she could get. Thomas was the main overseer of the garden, so Katrina had arrived early to discuss her plans for Will. She’d known Thomas since she’d come to live in her new home. As a seventeen-year-old, he had been her first major crush.

  She wanted to make sure Will’s assignments were tough enough for her to get a good measure of the man. How else would she determine what he was made of? Of course they would be difficult, as difficult as she could find. And she could find difficult.

  They had agreed to assign him the mulch detail first, followed by a little wood chopping after lunch.

  The city, like all others in the state, collected Christmas trees and delivered them to the neighborhood gardens. Most of Shining Creek’s neighbors dropped theirs off themselves, and volunteers helped to shred them for use as mulch and for the compost bin. Most of the trees had been shredded already and were in a pile in the back of the gardens for residents who wanted to pick them up for use in their homes. Elderly neighbors who required assistance to maintain their yards could have their mulch delivered to their home by a volunteer, and lucky Will would be that volunteer this morning. That meant taking a shovel and loading up the truck with mulch.

  They had equipment that would reduce the time and labor, but he wasn’t going to use it. Will was in shape with all that cycling; he shouldn’t mind the old-fashioned way, she thought, grinning. And she’d picked out a special wheelbarrow for him to use; so what if the front wheel was a little wonky?

  Will would then deliver the mulch to three of their elderly neighbors and would place it as instructed. That should keep him occupied until noon.

  After lunch, she would bring him back over to Thomas to help chop wood and shred brush. The trees and brush wood came from areas where land was being cleared and included trees that were cleared from power lines. These were all delivered to their garden.

  The garden owned both large and small chainsaws for that purpose, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Let’s see how Mr. Leader of the Competition figures that out.

  And then, if Will was still around, Thomas would send him over to help her in the compost area. The compost pile always needed turning, and her worms needed feeding. And if there was any daylight left, she planned to have him deliver compost, by wheelbarrow, to the different beds in the vegetable sections.

  The garden owned two bobcats, both large and small, and if his assigned tasks proved too much work for Will, she planned to bring them out. Until then, the old-fashioned way was going to be it. It was getting close to six and time for her to head to the front gate to meet him. She smiled. This was going to be so much fun.

  ***

  There he was, just as he said he would be, leaning against the main gate, his back to her. He was clad in jeans, his flannel shirt open, some thin-looking shirt on underneath, baseball cap tur
ned backward, work gloves in his pocket, work boots on his feet. So he’d worn the appropriate gear, at least. She walked up and tapped him on his shoulder. He turned, all smooth. Did nothing rattle him, she wondered? He gave her a smile, those brackets in place next to his mouth, eyes twinkling.

  “You’re here,” she said.

  “As I said I would be.”

  “Ready to get started?”

  “Yep.”

  “Follow me, then,” she said, turning and walking away. “I’ve assigned you to work with Thomas. He’s been working in the gardens almost as long as I have and he is charge of the volunteers.”

  Watching her, he had to bite back his desire to laugh out loud. He didn’t know what she’d assigned to him, but he knew it would be hard, probably cutting individual blades of grass with scissors. She was so transparent; but if it would get her to work with him, he’d do it. For some reason, he wanted her to work with him.

  They walked over to an area surrounding big piles of what looked liked mulch and she introduced him to Thomas. Thomas was African-American; think Coffey, but not the drink, more like the big guy from the movie The Green Mile. Intimidating didn’t begin to describe him. He walked over to Katrina, his expression blank. So Katrina had enlisted help, Will thought, glancing at her standing next to him. Seeing her small frame next to Thomas’s tall, muscular one, reaching to the top of his waist, one could easily mistake her for his child.

  “Thomas, this is Will. He is the leader for the flower portion competition of our neighborhood this year. He lives a couple of doors down from me. He is new to the neighborhood and to the garden, so you may need to explain how things work around here.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Hey, Will,” Thomas said, stretching out his ham-sized hand, which Will took.

  “Hey, Thomas,” he replied.

  “I’ll come back for you at lunch, okay?” Katrina said.

  “I’ll be here,” Will said, grinning at her, conveying a message with his eyes: I know what you’re up to.

  She grinned back. “Don’t work too hard,” she said.

 

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