Silver

by Pieslak, Dixie

  I was incredulous. “You’d go bar hopping with Ev?”

  He backed off from that. “Nooo, not quite. Ev needs to get out more, though. The guy lives most of his life in his head. He’s having a birthday end of next month and his Mom emailed me that she and his Dad are coming down for it. They’re reserving a room somewhere around here so they can celebrate. Not exactly a party, she said. A catered buffet. Food and drinks, no presents. She asked us to come.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. They're having a couple of profs that his parents know. Plus a few other students, I guess.” He suddenly called ahead. “Hey, Ev, slow it down.”

  Ev disappeared around a corner. “You going to the birthday thing, Mark?”

  “Sure am. We can bring a date. It’s supposed to be dress nice, but don’t tell Ev. He only knows about his folks and the profs.”

  “When is this shindig?”

  “His Mom says she'll let me know.”

  We ran along in silence, the air delightfully prickly with Henna, the route totally familiar. Ev had slowed to let us catch up. I couldn’t speak for Henna, but I believed she’d enjoy an evening like that. After I kissed up to her for my days away. “Tell Ev’s Mom I’ll be there,” I said.

  “Okay. And remember, it’s a surprise and no presents.”

  “Right.”

  Mark left just after cool down, but Ev lingered, as I thought he would. Probably wanted to set the rules or some such nonsense, and get started on his chess challenge.

  There was some danger in playing around with Ev, but not too much and there was no way any human would ever guess the truth. In the old days, sure, but not in this scientific age. Actually, I thought Ev was a bit of a wonder himself, though he tended to think in terms of his own uniqueness, which was self centered. For fun, I'd let him in on a few oddities of my own that he hasn't spotted. I could always memory swipe. In any case, it was his idea, so his rules.

  I waited for Ev to start.

  And Ev waited for me to start.

  “Pretty dumb to stand around waiting for the other guy to speak up.” I said.

  He wiped the sweat from his head and face, rubbed the towel over his neck and shoulders and watched me not sweat and not rub down with my own towel.

  I egged him on. “Planning to move a pawn?”

  “I’m moving one right now.” He swiped at his chest and arms.

  “Meh. This is a move we’ve both seen already. You sweat a lot, I don’t.” I cocked my head and waited, a mocking smirk on my face.

  “Okay, not original, but it’s still a move. Your turn.”

  “Ahh, yes, I’m supposed to suddenly pop a dripping sweat. Sorry. Just not that hot.” I gazed serenely at the morning sky.

  “Brecken we finished our run faster than usual, not that you noticed. Mark and I were pumping. You were on a morning stroll.” He almost gloated with his observation.

  I faked a yawn. “Old ground. You want to see sweat? Go to the gym.”

  “Does anything make you sweat?”

  “Not much.” Serene smile.

  “How about me? Do I make you sweat? Doesn’t all the prodding get to you? This is my second pawn, by the way.”

  “I’ll take that pawn off the board. Your questions aren’t all that insightful, Ev. No challenge, so no sweating involved.”

  His eyebrows rose, but with pleasure, not surprise. “How about me? You don’t see me as a challenge?”

  I angled my head, looking him over. “I didn’t say that.”

  “No,” he said. “But you probably feel that way. And that would be a mistake.”

  Now my eyebrows rose, both in pleasure and surprise. It was hard to anticipate what he would say from one moment to the next.

  He snapped the towel, talking lightly. “Did you know I was a child prodigy? My folks were my teachers and I had to nag them to send me to a prep school so I could run track. I was always the youngest.”

  “Was it hard on you being a prodigy?”

  He shrugged. “Not as much as you’d think. I knew what I was and liked it. Still do.”

  “I know the feeling,” I muttered.

  “So here’s where I’m going with this. I relish the opportunity to match wits and there aren’t that many people good enough to make it worth while. Probably you are.”

  “Think your brain is way ahead of me, eh? That’s okay. Doesn’t bother me if I bore you.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. I’ve seen the same superior look in my eyes hundreds of times. “It isn’t your brain I’m after,” he said. “But I’ll use it to get to the rest. And that isn’t a come on, so don’t get all twisted again.”

  I loved this. He was so smug. And so far off base.

  “But there is one thing I need. Or want,” he added.

  “And that is?”

  Ev looked glib. “Access.”

  I nearly choked. “Access to what? My life story?”

  “That would be good, but not necessary. I’m talking about time. Access to time.”

  “So you’ve gotten all you can from watching me run and not sweat? You’re on the way to losing this game, prodigy.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Most of figuring you out is just thinking it through. I understand if you don’t want to give me any advantage.”

  “And access is advantage?”

  “Maybe not, but it could be if I’m good - which I am.”

  Ev was a master at throwing the challenge. His was sometimes infantile and obvious, but it was a challenge all the same and thus a temptation to me. “I’ll give you time,” I said. “Access.”

  He smiled, a glint of victory in his eye. “Good. Meet a couple times a week Over that coffee you like so much. Or I can come to your house.”

  “You want to come to my place? Isn’t that a little too much access?”

  “Mark has been there. Can’t be too threatening if I come, too.” We stared at each other, two buddies sparring to outwit the other and enjoying every minute of it.

  “Okay, my place,” I conceded. “Eventually. Coffee shop first.”

  “Great. Anytime. Middle of the night, for all I care. Whenever I'm not in class.”

  “Hope your brain is sharp in the middle of the night.”

  “That was just an expression, Brecken, but your willingness to consider it is revealing.”

  I chuckled. “Sometimes, mate, a duck is just a duck.”

  He grinned in easy agreement and I headed for home. I took a long shower, threw on some clothes, ordered flowers on line to be delivered at the PR office, and then went for coffee, drawing pad in hand. No reason to expect Henna, but one never knew.

  Chapter 42

  Allie was bright eyed and flirty. Easy to practice friendly with her. Outside, I propped my feet on the other chair and flipped open the drawing pad. A hazy look for one sketch, sharp delineation for another. I sent out strong “here I am” vibes and selected a pencil.

  An hour later I dropped the pencil and froze. Henna. She strolled up the steps moments later, eyes squinted, no smile. Going to play tiffed at me? Nope, not this time. She's run the show up until now, but things have changed.

  I stood and pulled out the chair for her, gave her a cautious smile. “I'll get you coffee.”

  “Don't bother. I'm not staying.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Her chin dropped. When I came back with the hot caramel macchiato, her mouth was tight, but she was seated at my table.

  I went for apologetic. “I've been out of town, Henna.”

  “I know.”

  “I know that you know. I've missed seeing you.”

  “Not much, apparently.”

  “You've missed me, too.” My voice almost cooed.

  “Oh, really?” Sarcasm rolled smoothly off her tongue. “Why would I miss you? You know so much, maybe you can tell me.”

  I answered serious. “Because you're hooked on me just like I am on you.”

  Her eyes widened and she grabbed the cup to hide be
hind. But no more hiding, for either of us.

  “It's no secret, Henna. I told you already. And you told me.”

  “No, I didn't.”

  “Those who have eyes to see, can see. I have excellent eyes.”

  She was steady again. “You ran off after promising you wouldn't and you know how I hate that. Where did you go?”

  “Emergency stuff with Louie. I didn't call because I figured you'd be angry. But I'm back now and I want to see you.”

  “But why not just tell me about Louie? How did you know there was an emergency and why didn't you tell me where you were going? And that you'd be gone so long? ”

  “You don't want to own me, Henna, anymore than I want to own you.” Hmm, first lie.

  “It's just common courtesy, Mr. de Boer.”

  “Yes, Miss Landau, and sometimes we fail to be perfectly courteous, like right now.”

  “Oh, so sorry. Good morning, sir. How's you're day?”

  I smiled again. “Tell me that you missed me.”

  “Why? You said you already know.”

  “Perhaps I'd like to hear it.”

  Her body crumpled. Strong Henna was still strong, but she did miss me and came to the coffee shop hoping I'd be here. Knowing I was here, if she searched with those addicting vibes of hers. And I was feeling those vibes right now, my body reacting happily to the addiction. Eating the hook. And tugging on the line to pull her into the surging ocean with me.

  “I have something for you.” I opened the drawing pad and turned it her way. Three sheets. Delineated, realistic Henna on the Tavern platform, the first night I saw her, the earring I carried in my pocket dangling from her ear. Then hazy Henna asleep on a blanket in the park. The third drawing was Sonar, ears perked, tongue out, adoration in his eyes.

  “You drew these?” she said softly.

  I placed my hand on her arm and squeezed gently. Her eyes raised to mine and my words slid out, warm and sincere. “Sweet girl, I've missed you so much. I'm sorry I didn't call. Forgive me?”

  “I'm still mad.”

  “That's okay. I get mad a lot.”

  “You shouldn't have left like that. I waited for you to come back.”

  “I'm back.”

  She softened. “Don't do it again.”

  My eyes caressed her face. “I won't.” I listened to her heart thumping along so beautifully.

  She swallowed and gazed back at me with moist eyes. “I missed you, Brecken.”

  “I know, Henna.”

  An hour later I walked her to her car so she could go home and get ready for the PR. I would see her at the Tavern and we'd go somewhere after. I planned to stay public and pour on the romance. Public to make her crave for private and romance because that's how I felt. And to push her desire for private.

  I strolled home, dealt with the messy rooms from that Sunday night, then headed out to find Russell's hiding spot. No sense of him anywhere, which either meant he had moved on or was hiding from daylight somewhere distant. Or hiding from me, given he was the one who gave Henna blood to drink. I'll check again, daily if need be.

  Time to kill, so - needful shopping. Detergent, toothpaste, a timer for Amie's lights. Lemons. I laughed at the shopping cart. Even a vampire can have mundane needs, Oh, and a box of Snickers candy. With a silver bow. A reminder and subtle message. I'd love to see her reaction to that.

  Chapter 43

  I put on a sexy top and my favorite peasant skirt for a combo of dressy and casual. Long, loopy curls to frame long earrings. A quick glance in the mirror and I was set to go, so keyed up that I swear I’d jump him, if he didn’t make the jump first.

  As soon as I stepped out the door the little surprises began. Brecken was somewhere very close by. If he was checking out my senses, he would lose, because I was fully aware of him and felt smug as I chomped on a Snickers from the box he left on the hood of my car. The silver bow hung from my mirror. Pretty and also unsettling.

  The next surprise was when I walked through the door and he was already seated.

  “How did you do that?” I was frustrated that I’d missed his move, but he was full of mischief.

  “Do what?” He half smiled in that mocking way that makes my stomach drop to the floor. So I punched his arm. Rock hard and he fell against the table with an umph, like it hurt.

  “You know!” I punched him again. “I felt you near my house. How did you park and get inside without me seeing you?”

  “Faster than the wink of an eye,” he said and winked..

  “Well, someday I’m going to catch that winking eye.”

  “Oh, Cherie, you’ve already caught it.” His eyes traveled to my lips and lingered, his thoughts all too obvious for the Tavern. I quickly sat beside him before anyone noticed.

  Conor was on stage right near us and swiveled our way as he began his next tune. No words, just soft strumming and a cautious sort of expression on his face.

  I bent my head towards Brecken and whispered. “I got the candy. Why did you come to my house and not say anything?”

  “I like to. I may do it again. Or pick you up and save the environment from two cars going to the same place.”

  Great idea. I gave him a big smile and shook my head yes, but he likes his tricks, so I didn't really believe him.

  Conor left right after his one set and his odd expression lingered in the back of my mind. After I performed I mentioned it to Brecken. “Did you like Conor?”

  “Mmm. Nice voice.”

  Yes. I wanted to introduce you, but he left too fast. Something’s up with him tonight, though.

  “Growing pains, I expect.” He was playing with my hand, tracing my palm with his fingers. “He's still learning who he is.”

  Two can play. I grabbed his hand, following the lines on his palm as he had done to me. “Did you ever have growing pains, Brecken?”

  “Sure. They lasted a whole day. Or maybe I’m still having them.”

  “Do they hurt?” I squeezed his hand and cocked my head to look up at him. His jaw was suddenly clenched, like a sore memory had flitted through his head. His expression was distant and somehow noble. All the chatter of people in the parking lot seemed to fade into nothingness and I lost myself in him as he gazed into some far place.

  I waited while his jaw relaxed and his eyes softened again. He said nothing, but was back with me. I wanted to ask, but a huge part of me loves the mystery that is Brecken, and that part waited for him to reveal himself in his own time. My patience was improving and I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

  He tailed me home and because Christina was watching TV with Sonar, we relaxed tucked close on the two back patio lounges, listening to the late night sounds and making soft talk about my hum drum work in PR and the startling fact that Brecken writes novels.

  “But you’re too young to be a writer.”

  “Mozart was too young to be a composer. He did it anyway.”

  That stopped me. “I want to read something you’ve written. Are you published?”

  “Mm hm. And someday you can read something.”

  “Why someday? Why not now? Do you write articles or what?”

  He stroked his finger along my arm.“Novels. Light weight and perhaps not your taste.”

  “I could look it up on line, you know.” I scowled at him through the dark.

  “You could if you knew my nom de plume. Which you don’t.”

  “So, tell me.”

  “Nope.”

  “That is so frustrating.” I leaned away from him, still scowling. But I was thrilled at this new level of mystery. I remembered his lap top and how he always closed it when I sat down at the coffee shop

  “Why did you tell me you write if you’re not going to let me read any of it? I let you hear my songs.” I was serious and he answered in kind.

  “You know that I’m a private person, Henna. But things are different with us now, so I want to open up to you. Let you in a bit more each day. It’s natural for you to wonder where I g
et money from, since I don’t have an actual job. So….” I felt his shoulder shrug.

  “Do you earn enough to live on?” I felt my face flush at the rude question. But he didn't seem to mind.

  He shifted sideways to face me. “I’m a good writer. I earn enough.”

  “Do you have an agent and all?”

  “That’s one way it's done. Self published E-books is another. An agent makes things easier for me.” He twirled a lock of my hair around his fingers.

  I was amazed. “How could you not have told me this before? About the writing? It’s so, mm, so….”

  “Intriguing?”

  I laughed. “Very. Would I recognize your pseudonym?”

  “Possible. Probably not.” He took up another strand of hair.

  “I've never read an E-book. Can I find you in bookstores?”

  “Not the University bookstore, but otherwise, yes.”

  “This is such a tease,” I pouted. “What kind of novels do you write?”

  “Part history, part romance, part fantasy.”

  “Romance and fantasy? You amaze me, Mr. de Boer. How many have you written?”

  “Quite a few. They don’t take that long.” He tugged on my hair, pulling me closer.

  I came willingly, leaning my head across him, his cheek and neck just under my face. So close. I took in his clean scent, loving the masculine feel of him and I brushed my lips along his jaw then bit lightly on his chin. If that wasn’t a bold hint, nothing was.

  He took the hint, turning his head to breath in my ear. I felt the touch of his tongue and went weak. Oh, yes. A warm, bubbly melt. He hesitated then rubbed noses and moved his lips softly across my half open mouth. A quick lick and he sucked my bottom lip between his and ran his tongue across it. The world tilted and I almost fell off the lounge. I reached for him and he scooted over, then lifted me from my lounge to his. So effortless. So what I wanted.

  We were scrunched together, our bodies half entwined, our mouths fully entwined. I was getting the long, kisses I craved. But I wanted them deeper and I wanted him to touch me. I twisted against him and he twisted back. Yet, still careful, some part of him apart. Not quite engaged. But I was fully engaged. ”I won’t break,” I panted.