Eyes Unveiled

by Crystal Walton

  “Now, why would I do that when his slip up gives me the chance to rescue a pretty lady?” he said in a western accent right before kissing the back of my hand.

  “Sure you’re not a theater major?” I opened my door. “You might want to roll your windows up on the way home. Think you lost your cowboy hat on the drive in.”

  He chewed on the side of his sunglasses like a piece of straw. “The hat isn’t what makes a cowboy, honey.”

  “You don’t even have to try, do you? That stuff just flows right off your tongue.”

  “Raw talent.”

  I bent over the open window. “You’re special, A. J. Bowers. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  He slid his glasses on and set one hand on the wheel. “All the time.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

  Laughing, he stretched across the passenger seat. “Later, Corporate.”

  I waved behind me and fanned into the revolving door.

  “Hiya, Miss Emma,” the janitor said as he rolled his mop and bucket across the entryway.

  “Morning, John.”

  He motioned to the windowed walls. “It’s gonna be a beautiful one today.”

  Hoped so. The familiar office-coffee smell trickled into the elevator each time the chime let another wave of people off at their designated floor. A stretch of gray cubicles stared at me from the other side of the open doors. I sighed. Being a theater major might not be so bad.

  A guy from the purchasing department caught my briefcase strap with his shoulder while passing before the elevator closed again. “Sorry,” he said without stopping.

  Beautiful day or not, it was time to get a move on.

  A steady hum of clinking keyboards led me down the hall in a processional of routine. I passed workstation after workstation with mounted nametags. Credit Analyst. Budget Manager. Accounts Receivable Specialist. Titles. Jobs I could do. Things I was good at, enjoyed. But the murals Riley had shown me spurred a hunger for something more than what I’d found here.

  I set my briefcase in its usual spot, entered my password, and waited for the software to load. My fingertips drifted down the partition’s thatched lining. These walls weren’t so different from the concrete ones bordering that overlooked downtown corner—a gray canvas, begging me to find courage to add color to it.

  But I’d hidden that palette of creativity a long time ago. So afraid art had to be perfect before I could release it. Afraid what came out would stain the pristine canvas. Tucked away, the paints had dried out. They’d hardened and cracked.

  Like me.

  Renee whizzed by with a cardboard coffee carrier in her hand. She backtracked, hoisted a cup out of the tray, and set it on top of my wall. “Chai,” she said with a wink.

  I popped up from my chair. “Free drinks?”

  “More like combat reinforcements, dear.”

  Steam poured into my face when I lifted the lid. “For?”

  Renee hiked up a foreboding brow. “Mr. Johnston’s coming to the office today.”

  A woman in a pair of high heels she had no business trying to balance in clipped Renee’s arm as she rounded the corner, nose in a stack of papers. The tray of coffee cups teetered. I grabbed the opposite end before it toppled over.

  In a matter of seconds, the dormant floor turned into a maze of scurrying employees. Was a visit from the company’s president that big of a deal? One of Jack’s tips on success rushed to mind with the obvious answer. “Make your boss look good.” That’d explain the palpable stress level buzzing throughout the floor.

  Renee’s purse strap slid down her arm. “You have those capital planning reports ready? Jack will want them first thing.”

  “Right here.”

  Hands full, she motioned for me to put them under her chin.

  “I’ll set them on your desk.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Her head rolled back. “It’s gonna be a long one today.”

  A long and muscle-tightening one if everyone kept up this anxiety level. Shame we couldn’t all have the janitor’s perspective.

  After I dropped off the reports, my trek back to my desk passed by the computer graveyard. I peered into the darkened room and dipped inside. Though dusty and cluttered, at least it was peaceful. I maneuvered through piles of printers, cords, and PCs, and sat on a tiny cleared-off section of a desk.

  “What do you see?” As with that rundown building, it was easy to see what everyone else saw. Waste. A lost cause. But if I closed my eyes, an entirely different scene came to life. Rows of desks. Computers set up with afterschool learning programs. Kids engaging in another outlet. What did I see? Possibilities.

  The overhead light blinked on. Renee opened the door the rest of the way. “There you are. You hiding? It won’t be that bad, sweetie. I promise.”

  “Not hiding. Just thinking.”

  She considered me a moment. “Thinking,” she repeated. “In the dark. In a junk room. Maybe you need something stronger than that tea of yours.”

  I lifted up a keyboard and blew off the dust. “What if it’s not all junk? What if we could use it for a good cause? Invest in the community. Maybe even get some grant money.” Ideas swirled. Mr. Oakly wanted to see some ingenuity. This could be perfect.

  Renee lowered her glasses on their chain. “Emma, our job is to provide companies with profitability and capital planning tools, strategy management—”

  “But why not use our resources to make a difference instead of just money?”

  She glanced behind her and shut the door until only a sliver of the hallway peeked in. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but Mr. Johnston doesn’t like new ideas unless they’re his.”

  Really? “Well, Jack’s sort of one of his yuppies, isn’t he? Maybe he’d help me.”

  “I’m sure he would.” She crossed the room and set a hand on my arm. “Look, honey, I like you. You got spark to ya. It’s somethin’ special. But this isn’t the place for dreams.”

  “Don’t you ever want to do more?”

  “More than what? Work? This is reality, Emma. The sooner you stop hoping for more, the better. Take it from me. You’ll only end up getting hurt going down that road.”

  Maybe so, but it couldn’t hurt more than staying trapped inside colorless walls.

  She pinched her bottom lip, drummed her fingers over her arm. “I can’t change your mind about this, can I? Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with your regular work.” She weaved through the clutter. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Jack nudged the door open and poked his head halfway inside. “Found a secret hideout?”

  Renee cleared her throat, and Jack’s face fell. He straightened, adjusted his tie knot. “Renee.” He gave her an acknowledging nod, to which her lips quirked in reply. His gaze slanted past her to its original fixation. “Hiding from me?”

  “Actually, I was hoping to run into you.”

  His smug smile beamed under the overhead lights. Renee launched a warning brow my way. Smug or not, he might be the key to helping me nail my performance review.

  “I have an idea I wanted to run by you. A project, actually. But I think I’m gonna need your help with it.”

  He eased a little closer. “I like it already.”

  Oh brother. Of course he’d get off on knowing I needed his help.

  The elevator dinged from down the hall. Jack shook his watch forward on his wrist. “I’ll be tied up in meetings most of the morning, but I’ll tell you what. Meet me in my office at noon, and you can tell me all about it over lunch. I know the perfect café on 12th Avenue close to my apartment.” He swept the door open, apparently not needing to wait for a reply.

  Figures.

  A secluded lunch? Fine. But there was someone else I needed to share the idea with first. I scrolled for Riley’s number and typed a quick text. Think I might’ve just found my own paintbrush. Fill you in later tonight. See ya soon.

  Hand on the light switch, I glanced aroun
d the room once more. If discarded computers had a chance at making a difference, then maybe there was hope for me too.

  chapter fourteen

  Untamable

  The week following my lunch meeting with Jack pitted a lurking apprehension against my excitement for the afterschool project.

  It was hard to tell if he was really on board or only interested in an ulterior motive. Especially after he’d “mistakenly” spilled water down the front of my shirt at the café and conveniently invited me to his place for a change of clothes. Though, he hadn’t rescinded his offer to help when I declined. He better not be holding out for some sort of payoff at the end.

  I polished off the last of my tea and swallowed my concern. Nothing I could do about it anyway. I’d probably lose my internship if I said anything to anyone. Besides, I couldn’t get around needing his help. We’d be presenting the proposal in a few weeks. I could stick it out until then.

  Jaycee padded down the hall, hair swept up in a towel. Hints of her papaya shampoo wafted into the hazelnut-scented steam rising from the coffeemaker. I handed her a mug. Her forehead scrunched into the towel. “You made coffee?” She lifted it to her nose for inspection.

  I fanned a dishtowel at her. “Oh, stop. I can brew a pot of coffee, for Pete’s sake.”

  She took a cautious sip and held it a second before daring to swallow. “And added the right amount of creamer? Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

  “Very funny.” I rinsed out my mug and set it in the drain rack. “I got an early start to the day. Thought I’d be a nice roomie for a change.” I slid onto the kitchen chair beside her. “Jae, I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day. You were only doing what I asked you to do.”

  “Which you’re completely ignoring, by the way.”

  I rolled the sides of the placemat into the center and let them unfurl. “I know. I was scared Riley’d be like every other guy, but he’s turned into a good friend.”

  She tucked one leg under the other. “A friend you find intriguing?”

  She was never going to let me live that down. I flicked a crumb at her. “Yes. But it’s more than that. He inspires me. Challenges me to dream instead of settling for status quo. He makes me feel . . . real, I guess.” Trying to put it into words sounded painfully insufficient.

  Jaycee lowered her mug, her expression thick with dangling thoughts. “Em, I shouldn’t have listened to what those people were saying about his past. He’s good for you. When you’re with him, you’re . . . I don’t know . . . who you’re supposed to be. Like you’re alive. Feisty,” she clarified, brow darting my way. “But alive.”

  She consumed a giant swig of coffee. “Yeah, he’s a good friend, but it’s obviously more. Stop fighting it already and tell the boy how you feel.”

  My heel slipped off the chair. “Are you seri . . . ? And risk ruining our friendship? No way. He’s too important to me. I can’t mess this up.”

  Jaycee angled her head to one side. “Did you ever stop to think he might be thinking the same exact thing?”

  But what if he wasn’t?

  She hunched forward over the table. “What are you afraid of?”

  I towed my legs up into the chair again and laced my arms around them. “Everything. I’m afraid of the way he makes me feel when I’m with him. And even more afraid of how I feel when we’re apart.”

  Jaycee chuckled. “I think that’s called love.”

  A knock on the door rippled across the entryway. The entire room collapsed inside my stomach. I grabbed Jaycee’s mug, guzzled the rest of her coffee, and zoomed up from the table. My chair wobbled in place with about as much grace as the way I glided across the linoleum. Steeling myself before I opened the door, I flashed Jae a silent plea to forget everything we’d just talked about. The risk was too high.

  “’Sup, Preston,” she said without an upward glance from the coffeemaker when Riley stepped inside.

  He laughed. “Nice impersonation of Trevor.”

  “It’s a talent.”

  Leaning against the table, I balanced on one foot at a time while sliding my boots over my fuzzy socks. Riley picked up a sweater jacket draped over one of the kitchen chairs and held it out for me. “I have to warn you, it’s a little chilly out.”

  He gathered my hair in his hands and lifted it from under the sweater. His fingers grazed my neck. Tender and warm, the sensation launched a fleet of wings flapping in my stomach with enough power to airlift me outside. I clasped the top of the chair.

  A sideways grin snuck around the rim of Jaycee’s newly-filled mug. If she didn’t miss my response, chances were Riley didn’t either.

  I stumbled toward the door, desperate to escape the borders of the conversation Jae and I’d just had. As soon as my boots touched the stoop, a burst of fresh air came to my rescue. Leaves floated to the sidewalk from tree branches swaying in the breeze like paintbrushes sprinkling colors over a white page. Pure, heavenly distraction.

  “Autumn’s incredible, isn’t it? Brisk mornings, cozy sweaters, warm boots.” Amazing how the distinct smell of fallen leaves could trigger old memories with such vividness that I would have sworn I was eight years old again.

  “Every October, Mom took Austin and me on these scavenger hunts to find the brightest leaves to take home. You’d have thought we were searching those sidewalks for some hidden treasure.”

  Riley pressed his arm against mine. “It’s the little things.”

  I shoved him into the street. “You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?”

  “No, no, I promise.” He laughed softly. “I think it’s cute, actually.”

  “Mm hmm.” Regardless of how it sounded, autumn always reminded me of what I didn’t want to lose. “Don’t you miss it?”

  “Miss what?”

  “Childhood. Spinning in the rain until we fell to the ground.” I twirled in a circle, head lifted, arms in the air. “Being satisfied with a tree to climb and a swing set to fly on. Fears of the future never outranking the belief in happy endings. That’s why I’m so excited about this grant idea. What if an afterschool program could make the difference between a kid reaching his dream or not? You know?”

  At the curb in front of the car, I turned back around from the empty space where Riley should have been. He stood a few feet behind me with his hands in his jean pockets, watching my every move.

  “Was I rambling? I’m sorry. Sometimes my thoughts run over before I have time to stop them.” My hand soared to my mouth. “Sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Thanks for stirring up my nerves, Jae. Or maybe it was the coffee.

  Riley started toward me, sunlight catching an expression I didn’t understand. The wind blew my hair in every direction. Maybe I’d luck out, and it’d hide my blazing cheeks. Two leaves scampered past my feet, one chasing the other. I almost ran after them.

  He secured a strand of untamable hair behind my ear. “I warned you it was chilly out.” The world came to a standstill at his touch. “I’m not sure which fascinates me more. The way you manage to keep so much depth tucked away in this little body of yours or the fact that you don’t even realize how special you are.”

  Special? My heart raced. His words crashed against words from my past, colliding with memories of guys who’d already found out he was wrong—memories of the looks on their faces after I’d turned them down. Or worse, after I hadn’t. It wouldn’t take long for Riley’s face to mirror the same disappointment once he realized I was just another girl.

  His forehead creased. He lowered his hand from my hair and stalled in a half turn toward his car. “Can I take you somewhere today?”

  I should say no, spare us both from hoping this would lead anywhere. Not to mention Jaycee’s sister and nephew were stopping by later. I wouldn’t want to miss them.

  Riley retrieved a coat from his car and held it up for me, his earnest eyes conquering my resolve. “I promise to get you home before it gets too cold.”

  Doubt being
cold will be a problem.

  He tossed me a water bottle from the backseat and winked. “Don’t worry, ‘I’m a tea kind of girl,’ I’ll bring chai next time.”

  I pressed the cool bottle to my forehead. “You remember that?”

  “Are you kidding? With those red cheeks after you said it, how could I forget?”

  He started the car, and I almost crawled out of it. How do you spell embarrassing? “Hey, cut me some slack. I was a little star struck.” Might as well be honest.

  “Over another student?”

  “A student who’s insanely talented.” And devastatingly gorgeous. I twisted my seatbelt into a spiral. “And you don’t know the power your smile has.” Why, oh, why didn’t I know when to stop talking?

  “I’ll try to work on that.” He scrunched his lips together, but it only made it worse. “You don’t exactly make it easy, though.”

  That made two of us. I looked out the window, away from the grin that left me in a puddle on the floorboard.

  After twenty minutes of driving, the tires crunched over an accumulation of pine needles along the side of the road. Nothing but miles of woods stretched up and down either side of us. I slid Riley a questioning stare. “Where are we going?”

  He unbuckled his seatbelt and dangled his keys around his finger. “You’ll see.”

  Tight-lipped, I clambered out of the car. But once we hit the trail, all frustration with his deliberate evasiveness evaporated with any trace of nerves left from my conversation with Jaycee. Nothing existed except here and now—nature’s serenade, a backyard-pile-of-leaves fragrance, scenery that could’ve been taken straight from a poem.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It gets better.” He pointed ahead of us. “We’re almost there. Just past that bend.”

  “I thought we were just taking a walk in the . . .” A circular field bordered with sparkling boulders and bright green ferns stole my voice.

  Riley stepped beside me. “What do you think?”

  “You didn’t tell me we were hiking into the middle of a Bob Ross painting.”

  His face lit up with the thrill of showing me his own hidden treasure. “The way you were talking about your love of fall this morning, I knew you’d like it here. I had to show you.”