Vivian, Midnight Call Girl (Iron Orchids Book 6)

by Danielle Norman

  “God, you know me so well.” Sure as hell, Mikki wasn’t lying. Something about those words reached into my chest and squeezed. But I didn’t have time to ponder those thoughts.

  “Here you go.” The server reappeared with our drinks and hotdogs. “Also brought you some pretzels, nachos, and popcorn. All of the stadium favorites.” She handed food trays to each of us.

  “I’m in love with you,” Stella proclaimed as she dipped her pretzel into the nacho cheese. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” She held out one last container and opened it to us. It was a small divided bowl filled with condiments, relish, onions, and shredded cheese. We each helped ourselves, loading our hotdogs full. “If you need anything else, just wave to me, my name is Andi, I’ll be right over there.” She pointed to an offset area that was out of the way, but close enough that she could still easily watch the area.

  We turned and got comfy in our seats as the crowd started to get restless. “They’re getting ready to come out.” Mikki stomped her feet.

  “How do you know?” I asked between bites.

  “The auxiliary staff is coming out. See.” She pointed to a few men and women meandering on to the court and making their way over to folding chairs that were behind another row of chairs and off to the side of the players’ bench.

  A bead of sweat rolled down my back, and my heart felt as if I had a murmur with erratic rhythms. I sat forward, my knees bobbing. “You nervous?” Stella whispered.

  “No. I don’t know. What if I’m handling this all wrong?”

  “You aren’t. Calm down and enjoy the ride wherever it takes you.”

  My knees were well into a cantor as the sports announcer called out the Celtics eight bench warmers followed by their starting lineup.

  Then it came to the Lightning. Mikki grabbed my arm and pulled me up. I counted player after player as they ran to the center and shook hands with each of the Celtic players.

  “And tonight’s starting lineup, let’s hear it for your home team, Lightning.” The announcer called out a name, then another, and another. I was holding my breath when he finally called, “Shooting guard number thirty-three Aaron Skkye.” The announcer began another name, but I didn’t listen, I only had eyes for one person.

  He ran forward, but his eyes were locked on me. Suddenly, I felt shy. I waved, and a wide smile spread across his lips. A scuffle in the audience threatened to steal my attention, but I didn’t want to turn my head and risk breaking our eye contact.

  “Jesus Christ, Vivian, the crowd is going crazy trying to figure out who he is looking at, who is making him smile so brightly.” Mikki shoved my shoulder with hers.

  My attention snapped to her. “What?” Then I glanced around to find several people were staring at me, others staring in our direction but not sure exactly where.

  I faced forward and leaned back, contemplating what I was going to do.

  “Right there, what I saw proves it all, you’re crazy about him, and the feeling is clearly mutual.” Stella grabbed my hand. “Enjoy it, hell, enjoy him.”

  Andi appeared with three takeout-style boxes. “I thought you might like these.” She handed one to each of us with a spoon.

  We opened them while she collected our garbage.

  “Red velvet cake? I’m in heaven.”

  “Have I told you I love you?” Stella asked before she shoved a large bite into her mouth.

  “Thank you. Let me know when you’re ready for refills.”

  “Will do, thank you.” I smiled at her as she slid back into her small space.

  With cake in hand, the three of us sat at the edge of our seats and watched tip-off, where the ball was tossed into the air and the tallest players jumped to hit and others were ready to grab it if it was headed their way.

  The men were off, dribbling and passing the ball from person to person, moving closer to the basket until Aaron took control of it.

  “Yes,” I shouted when Aaron shot the ball and it landed in the basket. When it came down, a Celtics player snagged the ball and they bounced it, passed, and slowly worked it toward the opposite side of the court.

  “Way to go Gage,” Mikki shouted.

  “What did I miss?”

  “That’s Gage Armentrout, number nineteen, he recouped the ball for us, see?” Mikki pointed to the court, and I finally realized that the Lightning did indeed have the ball again.

  The buzzer rang and Aaron ran and joined his team huddled together, but not before he looked over at me and smiled.

  I nodded back, letting him know he absolutely had my full attention, and then I glanced around as more people were staring at me, sure that I was the one making Aaron Skkye smile.

  The buzzer sounded again and the players moved down the court.

  “I wonder what’s going on?” Mikki pointed toward a woman who was running out of the tunnel and toward the Lightning team side. “That’s Carmen Romero.”

  “The owner?” I asked, studying the woman who owned an entire friggin’ basketball team.

  “Yep.”

  She whispered into the head coach’s ear. He stepped forward, blew his whistle, and called a time-out. “Skkye, over here.”

  It was as if the entire stadium leaned forward to try to hear, as if that were even possible.

  I leaned forward too, hoping to hear something, but it was futile. So, I watched his face, and what I saw there had my stomach twisting in worry. Aaron said something to the two people in front of him, they both nodded, and he ran off the court, not looking back, not acknowledging me.

  “What just happened?” Stella asked.

  “I have no clue.” Whatever it was couldn’t have been good, not with the way he’d taken off.

  “You want to go?” she asked.

  “Let’s wait a few.” I reached for my phone to see if there was a text, but there weren’t any. So, I texted him.

  Me: Are you okay? Can I help?

  I waited for bubbles to appear, but by the time the second quarter finished and halftime began, he hadn’t responded.

  “Can we go now?” I asked softly.

  “Sure, come on.” Stella stood, and to my great relief, Mikki did too without any push back.

  None of us said a word as we walked up the stairs and passed Andi. I paused to reach into my purse and grab a twenty for a tip.

  She placed her hand on mine. “No need, Mr. Skkye took care of it. I hope that everything is okay.”

  “Thank you, me too.”

  It was weird. I saw him leave, I knew that he was okay, but still there was something so ominous about tonight.

  “Are you the woman who has captured Aaron Skkye’s attention?” A microphone was thrust toward me, hitting Stella in the process.

  “Excuse me? You just hit me.”

  “Sorry,” the woman said without an ounce of apology.

  “Please leave,” Mikki snapped.

  “I just want an answer,” Haley Loles demanded, as if I would give the reporter I had to deal with during Eric’s case and despised with a passion, an answer.

  The vapid bitch probably didn’t even remember who I was or how much pain she’d caused me a few years ago.

  Stella leaned into Hayley’s face. “Well you aren’t getting one. Let’s get an officer over here so he can assist us out of here and maybe take out the trash along the way. Maybe we can even talk about pressing charges for assault since you hit me with your fucking mic.”

  “I seriously doubt an officer will care about something so petty.” She smirked. “Plus, I’m just doing my job.”

  “Being a bitch? You excel at it. But I think they will care about harassing us.” Stella glanced around. “Hey, Max, can you come over here?” Stella hollered to Max Longoria, an off-duty deputy who was picking up some overtime working at the stadium. “This reporter blocked Vivian from leaving, thrust her microphone in her face, hit me with it, and now is saying no one will care what she does. We want to leave.”

  “I’ll take care of
it. Why, Haley Loles, we meet again. You have a special fondness for cops, don’t you?” Max chuckled. We all knew how much she hated law enforcement, but it was okay because the feeling was mutual.

  I didn’t talk, not on the ride to Sixes, not when Stella or Mikki asked questions. When we got back to the bar, I headed to my car and drove home.

  Media, fucking media. I hated them. I had to deal with them after Eric died. They constantly followed me, refusing to let me grieve in my own way. They called me Orlando’s sweetheart. They constantly questioned me about my feelings, how I was doing, and then checked in for weeks afterward to catch everyone up on Orlando’s sweetheart, widow of slain officer, Sergeant Eric Haines. When I wouldn’t talk to them because I just wanted to be left alone in my own pity party, they started using threats. I could hear them all over again, it would be all too easy to ruin Eric’s name, everyone thinks so highly of him, I would hate to see that change. Every morning I would open the paper and scour the headlines to see if there was any vile word.

  I checked my phone for what had to be the fiftieth time but still nothing.

  Aaron

  I was home only long enough to change and pack a bag. I had called my assistant for help finding me a flight, but the next one wasn’t until tomorrow midmorning, which was too late. I needed to get there faster. I pulled my Cayenne out of the garage and headed north, back to Evansville, Indiana, a place I hadn’t been since graduating early at seventeen, and leaving seven years ago when I got a full ride to the University of Kentucky.

  “Ireland has been in an accident,” Carmen had whispered.

  I’d thought about Ireland almost every day for the last seven years, wondering if she was doing well, but it wasn’t my place, not anymore, hadn’t been since the second I signed those adoption papers.

  How I wished I could do something more than anonymously sending her gifts she would never know were from me.

  “Aaron, you need to go, head to Evansville, Indiana.” Carmen had never sounded so serious. “The three of them were in a car accident, only Ireland survived. They are contacting you as the biological father.” Carmen rubbed my back. “Are you okay?”

  I kept driving up I-75 until I finally hit Chattanooga, Tennessee, and then I merged on to I-24, only when I had to.

  I was a hundred and twenty miles outside of Evansville when Heidi called. “Good morning, Heidi.”

  “Good morning, Aaron. I’ve made a reservation for you at the Double Tree; it appears to be the nicest hotel in the area.”

  “Fine, anything is fine.”

  “The reservation is open ended, so there’s no rush. I spoke with Miss Romero, and she said to take your time. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  My skin slowly changed to white as I squeezed my knuckles around the steering wheel. Did I have Heidi do it or not? “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’d normally never ask for something like this, send some gorgeous flowers to Vivian, she owns Sixes Bar & Grille. Just write, I’m sorry, an emergency arose. Love, Aaron.”

  “Love? Wow, that’s something I’ve never written for you before.”

  “Goodbye, Heidi, I’ll call if I need anything else.”

  “Goodbye, sir.”

  Two hours later, I crossed the bridge into Evansville, hit the map link Heidi had sent, and followed the directions to my hotel.

  I pulled up to valet; it was always easier to have my car waiting as soon as I hurried out of a hotel than to have to walk to it with people following me and taking pictures or asking for photographs.

  The valet wasn’t much over eighteen. He opened my door and froze staring at me. “Umm, hello Mr. Skkye.”

  “Shhh, let’s not make a big deal of this, okay?”

  He nodded, and I reached into my backseat and grabbed my hanger-bag with all of my clothes and my toiletry bag. He handed me my ticket, I handed him a twenty, and then I headed for the front desk.

  Before I made it there, a woman in a polyester business suit that had to be itchy as fuck intercepted me.

  “Welcome, Mr. Skkye, I’m Jenny Winternheimer, the general manager. We already have your room ready. Your assistant has given a card to be put on file. You are on the top floor, corner suite, here is your key. May we help you with your luggage?”

  “No thanks, I’ve got it.”

  “Would you like some breakfast sent up?”

  “That would be awesome. Whatever they can do fast is great, I’m not picky.”

  “We’re on it.”

  “Thank you so much, Ms. Win . . . Jenny.”

  She laughed. “Winternheimer, but don’t worry, hardly anyone gets it right the first time. Here’s my card, let me know if you need anything while you are with us.”

  I took her card and headed for the elevators, Winternheimer . . . hmmm. Now that she mentioned it, I remember going to school with a lot of unique names, just never thought about them being German: Niemeier, Wimpleberg, Winzapfel, Snodgrass. That last one still caught me off guard, that name was a hard no for me.

  There was a large basket of fresh fruit waiting for me inside my suite. I hung up my garment bag then grabbed a banana before moving the lock on my door and setting it so it wouldn’t latch and the room service waiter could come on in. Then I started making phone calls.

  “Thank you for calling the Vanderburgh county department of Children and Family Services, we open at nine a.m., please call back during our normal time, or in the case of an emergency, please call eight-one-two . . .” I wrote down the number and then hung up.

  Dialing the next number, I waited.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Aaron Skkye, some—”

  "Oh, Aaron, I’m so glad you called. It’s me, Karen Koehler—well, you would remember me as Karen Kingsland. We went to high school together. I’m the one who called you. I know it isn’t proper protocol, but I saw the file when we were alerted about the girl and knew instantly who she was. Evansville still isn’t that big; we know everyone’s business. I remembered you and Maisy having that baby.” Good god, when would this woman shut up? I didn’t need to be reminded about things I already knew.

  “What about seeing—”

  “Anyway, she’s alone and there were no other next of kin, so I contacted you. When can you get to Evansville?”

  “I’m here already.”

  “Oh. Well then. She just had surgery—”

  “Why? On what?”

  “On her wrist, she needed it set.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Well . . . ummm . . . we’re not sure she even knows that she was adopted. We need to go very carefully here. Since I’m the one handling Ireland’s case, I need to ask if you have heard from Maisy or know of her whereabouts?”

  “No. Not once since she snuck out of the hospital. I have no clue where she is or even if she is still alive.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Tell me about it. I never understood her leaving.” I glanced up as my door opened, and waved for the waiter to carry in my tray. Like the valet, he paused and stared for a second.

  I reached for the black cheque folder to sign the bill.

  “It’s taken care of,” Troy, according to his name tag, said.

  After I handed him a ten, he closed the door behind himself as he left, and I made a mental note to get cash.

  “Let’s meet at Deaconess hospital at two o’clock, is that okay with you?”

  “Sure, why not before?”

  “I’m meeting the doctor at three, I’d like to talk with you, and then if we come to a consensus, you can listen as well. I’ll meet you at the main entrance.”

  I hung up, set my alarm for twelve thirty and then turned to eat before taking a much-needed nap.

  Aaron

  Sorry, John Mellencamp, but your idea of living in a small town and mine are two totally different things.

  I thumped my steering wheel as I drove down Mary Street on the way to the hospita
l.

  My mind was whirling, could I do this? Of course I could, there was no other choice. The times I spent in foster care, when my mom was picked up and someone thought to look to see if she had any kids at home, were nightmarish. It wasn’t just that I was young and scared, either. There was always something cold about those places, no matter how hard they tried to make them feel otherwise.

  There was no way I would allow my daughter to even spend a minute in foster care.

  Turning down the radio when the large building came into sight, my knuckles popped as I flexed them to turn into the parking lot. Getting out of my Porsche Cayenne, the first thing I spied was a woman who had to be in her early forties bundled up in one of those huge parachute material puffy monstrosities. There was no way I went to high school with her. Maybe Karen had something come up.

  “Aaron, it’s been a long time.” The woman stepped in to give me a big hug. “It’s me, Karen.” She pulled back. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

  “Thanks. How have you been?”

  “Oh, you know, I’ve been good. I’m a mom—oh, and I married Buck Koehler, you two played basketball together. Remember him?”

  Holy shit, where were the batteries to turn this thing off?

  “I do.” Buck had been the biggest asshole on Earth. Every time he thought I showed him up, he’d pull some stupid prank and think it was funny as hell.

  “Come on, it is way too cold to be standing outside. We have a small conference room waiting for us.” Karen began walking and I was left to follow as she continued chattering. “Well, you are just famous here. Have you been over to Reitz High School yet? Oh, of course not, you just got in. But you should, they have your jersey up in a case along with some of your photos and the team’s photos the years you all won State Championship. Mater Dei is still our biggest rival around here, nothing like good ole westside rivalry, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I kept my head down as we maneuvered through the hospital to a small room. My mind was on Ireland and trying not to vomit as the overpowering smells hit me: it was a mixture of disinfectants, cleaners, and just that nondescript smell of sick people.