by Lisa Lace
I would forget about Victor.
After having a drink with Carla, I said my goodbyes and promised to drop in at the coffee shop after my first day at work. It made sense to walk to work with the preschool only minutes away from the apartment. In fact, I could just about see Edison Street out my window.
I returned to my apartment and closed the door behind me. Looking around, I felt the magnitude of what I was doing sink in. It felt empty in the barren rooms. I was alone. I walked over to my living room window and looked down to the street below. There wasn’t much traffic on the street. I couldn’t see anyone passing by. It was like when I shut the apartment door behind me, I was suddenly the only woman in the world.
I turned back to face the small pile of luggage awaiting me, taking a deep breath and diving in to ripping open cardboard and putting things in their place. Some new furniture would arrive tomorrow. Maybe once everything was laid out, it would feel more like a place that could become home.
* * *
The next day, I stepped into the post office and headed to the lobby where my PO box was located. I would do anything to make sure Victor couldn’t find me. I knew what he was like and I didn’t dare give anyone my real address, not even my sister.
Relentless. That was the best way to describe Victor. Well, possessive, vicious, and cruel were up there too. Even now, I couldn’t believe I had ever fallen for him. Then again, he’d been good at appearances. He had smooth-talked me one night four years ago when I was out at a bar with my friends, looking devilishly handsome. I’d been drawn to his charisma and good looks like a moth to a flame.
I shook my head at the memory and scolded myself. Foolish girl. So naïve. I’d soon learned Victor had been far from the sophisticated gentleman he pretended to be. The truth of the matter was that he was a predator with a primal instinct to hunt. And that’s exactly what he’d done when I’d first packed my bags and walked away from him. He hunted me down. Three different addresses and a restraining order hadn’t slowed him down at all. A week or two would go by in peace, and before I knew it he would materialize on my doorstep, alternating between cold threats and empty promises to change.
No matter what I tried, there was no escaping him.
I didn’t trust anyone in Johnstone, either. Victor had been a policeman, and all his cop buddies had done their best to deflect my allegations. They’d tried to protect him. It had taken multiple letters from my lawyer to their department and the threat of suing them for malpractice to get a restraining order. Then it had been hell trying to enforce it.
Things would be easier this way. A new place and a fresh start.
This time I’d gone further, and I’d done more to make him lose my scent. The PO box was just one of my new escape strategies.
I turned the key in the lock of my box and pulled out a single letter. I recognized the floral envelope from a set I’d bought my sister, Charlotte. I ripped it open immediately.
Jenna,
I’m not used to writing letters. I think it’s silly you won’t let me call you, like Victor has my phone bugged. He doesn’t, and I want to hear your voice. Please send me your number.
We miss you. Becky and Dylan keep asking where their Aunt Jenna is, and I tell them you’ve gone away for work. They keep asking when you’re going to visit. I don’t know what to say. How many times can they hear you’re really busy with a new job, and that we’ll see you soon.
Am I lying to them? When will we see you again? You’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth like you’re in the witness protection program. I know the police were dragging their feet, but Victor’s actions would have caught up with him in the end. You didn’t give the law enough time. They need mountains of evidence, otherwise it’s just he-said-she-said. You thought you would never be able to get a restraining order, but it happened, didn’t it?
You didn’t have to move away. I wish you’d come home.
I hope you’re settling in well wherever you are and that you’ve found work. Be happy. Keep yourself safe, and get in touch as soon as you can. Use a pay phone or a burner cell — whatever, I don’t care. Just let us know you’re doing OK.
We love you.
Charlotte, Becky and Dylan
I read her letter and had to struggle to hold back my tears. Charlotte was breaking my heart. Yes, I’d disappeared and left her very little information about where I’d gone, but that was for her own safety as well as mine. I didn’t want Victor sniffing around her and the kids, thinking that it might bring him closer to me. All Charlotte knew was that I was in Indiana and laying low for a while.
I hadn’t even told her about my job.
I missed her and my niece and nephew. I adored Charlotte’s children. I’d always spoiled them like crazy and jumped at the chance to babysit whenever she went out with her husband. I felt far away from all of them.
But I wanted to live a life where I didn’t have Victor constantly circling around me like a vulture waiting to pick shreds of self-esteem from my bones.
I placed the letter in my purse and stepped out of the post office. I began to head up the main street to Carla’s coffee shop. She had knocked on my apartment door the night before and told me to stop by if I was in town today.
Carla’s shop was a cute little place nestled between a shoe store and a nail salon. It had a large sign in cursive out front. The store had a simple name: Carla’s Coffee. The inside was light and airy, with wood floors and five little square tables, bare except for a small vase of brightly colored fresh flowers on each one. There was a counter displaying all the baked goods and signs hanging behind listing all the different kinds of drinks.
I noticed the front of the store was made up of large windows overlooking the fire station.
I headed for the counter, where a young girl was serving, and was about to order when I heard Carla call my name.
“Jenna! Put your money away, girl. For you, it’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“How much are you planning to eat? A piece of cake and a latte won’t run us into the ground.”
Carla was wearing a red loose cotton blouse and a long, patterned skirt that reached the floor so that you couldn’t see her feet moving when she walked. It gave her the appearance of gliding across the room to sit with me at one of the two tables closest to the window. She called out to her assistant to bring over two lattes and two slices of cake and looked at me eagerly with a broad smile. She reached over the table and gave my wrist a quick, excitable squeeze like we’d been best friends forever.
“Tell me how you’re settling in.”
“Fine, I guess.”
“All unpacked?”
“There wasn’t much to unpack!”
“Have you got everything you need?”
“Just about. Some furniture arrived this morning. I’ve got a great new sofa. My bed was delivered too. I’ve spent most of the morning ordering new stuff online.”
“On top of things, then. When do you start work?”
“Tomorrow.”
Carla’s assistant arrived with a tray of coffee and cake and laid it down on the table. Carla thanked her with a smile before turning back to me. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. It’s been a while since I started somewhere new.”
“What were you doing before you came here?”
“Working retail.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup. In a grocery store. I had to put my studies on hold so I could earn some extra income.”
“Retail is the worst, unless you own the place, of course!” Carla let out a light laugh and cut into her cake with a fork. “I worked retail for years before I started this place. My grandpa passed away and left me some money. I could never have dreamed about owning a shop without that help. God bless my Pops.”
“It’s a great place!”
“Thanks! My mother always said you can’t gossip for a living. I proved her wrong. Sp
eaking of which, take a look out the window. The boys have arrived.”
I turned to follow her gaze to the engine bay of the fire station across the street. The roller was up, and the crew had just arrived to work on the engines. There were three of them.
The first was a man in his forties with dark hair starting to gray. He was short and walked with a bit of a swagger. The second was a younger man, closer to my age. He had blonde hair so long that he had to sweep it back off his face every now and then as he worked. Finally, there was a dark-haired firefighter who must have been in his early thirties. He had mid-length dark hair with just a slight curl to it, a chiseled jaw and ripped muscles so toned I could see the definition from across the street. I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight of a man who was pure, physical perfection.
I only realized I was biting down on my lip when Carla laughed and said, “My thoughts precisely.” Her eyes were positively glistening with glee. “Let me dish. See that older one? That’s Lewis Edlin. He’s married and has two sons. He doesn’t socialize much with the crew on account of being older and a real family man. When it’s time to clock out, he’s gone.”
She flicked her gaze to the next firefighter and lifted her finger in the direction of the blonde. “The next one’s Sam Mayden. He’s my man.”
I craned my neck to get a better look. Sam was handsome, too, but in a boyish way. He was grinning at something Lewis had said, and it made him look years younger, like a schoolboy playing a prank. He was well-toned and strong.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Carla beamed. “At first I wasn’t sure he was my type. I usually go for tall, dark and handsome, but there’s just something about Sam… He’s so sweet. A real romantic. You wouldn’t think that someone with a body like that would be the sensitive type, would you? But my God, he’s like a little puppy dog.”
Sam must have felt Carla watching him because he looked up at us and grinned widely. Carla smiled back, giving him a little wave before blowing him a kiss. Sam pretended to catch it and blew one back.
“See what I mean? He’s a total sweetheart.”
My eyes wandered to the last firefighter who hadn’t been profiled. My God, he was sexy. He was probably the most delicious damn man I’d ever laid eyes on. He was washing down the engine and with every sweep of his arm, I could see his biceps rippling. He was wearing a white T-shirt, and I could imagine the six-pack underneath the cotton. He turned to see what Sam was looking at, and I got a better glimpse at his face as he turned our way. Each feature was chiseled to perfection. He had a strong, defined jaw. When he spotted Carla, his lips curved into a smile and revealed perfect, straight teeth.
I quickly looked away and hid my face with my hand. I felt shy all of a sudden, and guilty for looking at a man and letting my heart race when I was supposed to be done with them. I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks flush.
Carla laughed. “I see you’re experiencing the Nate effect.”
“What’s that?”
“Weak knees, racing heart? They’re all symptoms of Nate Blaze.”
“That’s his name? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. That man was born to fight fires and wear a tight T-shirt. He must be the poster-boy for hot firemen. Am I right?”
“He is good looking.”
“Didn’t I tell you? I knew you’d change your mind when you saw him.”
“Change my mind on what?”
“Setting you guys up!”
I laughed and waved away the offer, tucking my hair behind my ear and looking down into my empty coffee cup. “No. I’m still not interested.”
“What! What kind of single, hot-blooded woman doesn’t want a piece of that?”
“The kind who’s starting a new job tomorrow and has more to worry about than getting a hot date.” Still, my eyes couldn’t help but stay fixed on Nate. I was biting my lip again. I let out a long breath and cleared my throat once more. “It’s not the right time.”
Carla rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s a shame. I think you two would be great together. Nate’s been alone for so long. Having a woman in his life again would do him a world of good.”
“I can’t believe that a man who looks like that is single. What’s the catch?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d said wrong, but I felt like I’d put my foot in it somehow when I saw Carla’s smile fade, and she cast Nate a look that was more sorrowful than hungry. “There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s a depressing story, actually. He was married.”
“He was?”
“Yes. Her name was Marie. He adored her.”
“They divorced?”
“No. She died.”
I gasped, and a hand flew to my mouth. I looked over at Nate again and felt my heart well up with pity for him. He was so young to be a widower. “That’s awful.”
“Tell me about it. They have a daughter together, too.”
“No!”
“Yeah. Four years old. She’s a darling little girl.”
“Don’t make me cry. How terrible. Nobody should have to go through that.”
Carla sat back in her chair and flipped her hair back out of her face. She looked reflectively at Nate. “He used to be a bit of a player before Marie. He had every girl after him and took his pick. After he met her he was a changed man. He had tunnel vision for that woman. He’s not been the same since she passed. It’s been three years.”
“That’s dreadful.”
“I want to see him smile again, you know? He was always laughing before, but he’s so serious these days.”
“It takes time to heal wounds.”
“I think Nate would spend the rest of his life grieving if nobody stepped in. He doesn’t know how to move on. He should be happy again. He deserves that.”
“Another reason for me to stay far away.” I saw Carla’s shocked look and realized she thought that I was suggesting Nate was damaged goods. I was quick to correct her. “What I mean, is that I’ve got my own baggage. It’s not fair to lay my troubles on someone who’s already gone through so much. I’d be no good for him. No good for him at all.”
I heard my own words hang in the air, and I knew they were true. Ever since I’d met Victor Malone, I’d signed myself up to a lifetime of misery. It wasn’t fair to put it on someone else. It would be better for me to keep my head low and stay alone so I couldn’t burden anyone with my issues, and not be hurt again.
Nate
“I don’t wanna go!”
I’d been listening to my four-year-old daughter, Harriet, wailing her protests ever since we left home. It was the end of summer, and Harriet did not want to go back to preschool. Why should she have to share the grown-ups’ attention with all those other kids when at home she had Grandma, Daddy and Aunt Kacey all to herself? Harriet wanted to live in an eternal summer, baking with Grandma, playing hide-and-seek with Aunt Kacey, and watching cartoons with Daddy.
“I know honey, but it’s time to go back to school.”
“Why?”
“So you can learn and make new friends.”
“I don’t wanna make new friends.”
I chuckled and looked over at Harriet fondly. She was a cute kid, but acted like she was four going on fourteen. She looked like her mother with blonde hair I had helped her wrestle into two pigtails. Freckles spattered across her chubby cheeks and big, brown eyes could wrap you around her little finger when she put on a puppy-dog stare.
“Of course you want to make friends, Harriet! Don’t you remember how much fun you had last year?”
Harriet folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. Her bottom lip began to wobble. I kept one eye on the road as I reached out to tickle her tummy. “Come on now, baby. Let’s see your smile.”
She tried to stay stubborn but tickles always won, and she began to giggle. “Daddy!”
I laughed and returned my hand to the wheel. “You’re going to have the best time. You’ll have the sand pit and tricycles. You can even play with Samantha. All summer
long you were asking if Samantha could come over and play. Now you don’t want to see her?”
“I wanna stay at home.”
“Sorry, kiddo, but Daddy and Aunt Kacey have work. Grandma gets tired easily nowadays. You have a lot of energy, you know. It’s only three days a week. You can manage that.”
“Nooooo!”
“What do you mean ‘no’? I thought you were a big girl now. Going to school is what big girls do. You’ll have fun with Samantha today, and on Thursday, Grandma told me you’re going to make cookies with her.”
I pulled up on the street outside the preschool and managed to pull a very reluctant girl out of her booster seat. Harriet dragged her feet dramatically and threw her head back with a groan, eventually stomping after me with a grimace, her little backpack on her shoulders.
I took her to the classroom and raised my eyebrows in surprise when I peered around the doorway and saw how many kids they had this year. There were dozens of them, already running around and throwing tantrums, making messes and falling over. It looked like Mrs. Gatsby had her work cut out for her this semester.
I knelt down to talk to Harriet. She wrapped her arms around my legs like a capuchin monkey and was burying her head tearfully into my thigh. I peeled her away from me and held her by the shoulders, trying to catch her eye as she hung her head dolefully.
“Look at how many kids there are to play with this year! You’re going make so many friends!”
Harriet burst into tears. “I… wanna… stay… with… you!”
“I know, sweetie, but Daddy’s gotta work.”
“I… wanna… stay… with… Grandma!”
I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “And if Grandma’s busy, I’ll bet you want to stay with Aunt Kacey… am I right?”
Harriet sniffled and sobbed, clinging to my hand. I glanced at the clock and sighed. “It’s only for a few hours, Harriet. I know you can do it.”