Love 2.0

by Lee Kilraine

  Delaney led her out to the front desk, where Kaz and an elderly man in overalls stood at the counter.

  “I can’t express how sorry I am, ma’am.” The man reached out his hand to shake hers. “Jeb McClatchy. That bull of mine has caused me a world of trouble, but this is the first time he’s hurt someone. I’m covering your medical bills and your car, although Cooter hasn’t said if it’s fixable yet.”

  She deflated on the news, but that seemed to be the story of her life over the last year—everything moving from bad to worse. She’d barely had enough money to buy the darn clunker to begin with. No way could she afford a replacement for it right now.

  Kaz moved and wrapped an arm around her, shifting her next to the counter for her to lean against it. “Take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine, Elvis. Just fine. Lisa, are we good on the paperwork?”

  She sucked in a deep breath, but it was a reaction to Kaz’s strong arm around her. Somehow resting against him pushed her pain into the background and helped contain her fear. She wasn’t used to having someone to lean on.

  “I think so.” Lisa smiled across at him but pulled a business card from the front pocket of her scrubs and dashed her phone number on the back. “Here’s my number if you need anything else, Kaz. You know, for Elvis. Or just anything.”

  Smiling a polite smile, Kaz nodded at the woman and steered Mira out the front door with McClatchy trailing them out. She felt strangely protected tucked into his shoulder, his arm strong around her.

  “I’ll be in touch once Cooter goes over your car.” He pulled a frayed ball cap out of his back pocket, working it between his workman’s hands before jamming it on his head. “If you need anything—seriously, Kaz, if she needs anything—you call me.”

  “Will do, Jeb. Let’s go, Elvis. You look like you’re about ready to fall down.” He led her to a pickup truck at the curb, helping her get settled and strapped into the front passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side. “Let’s get you over to my parents’ and then you can rest for a couple of hours before I have to pester you awake.”

  He handed her a hat and sunglasses. “They’re mine, so they’re a bit big, but they might help keep the light out.”

  Mira slipped them on, appreciating the respite. Outside her window, it might have been a small-town movie set with lampposts on every street corner, and the trees and benches alternating along the quiet storefronts. “Now that I’m out, you can just drop me at the hotel. I’m really fine.”

  Kaz didn’t even glance her way before starting up his truck and pulling away from the curb. “Are you trying to get me in trouble with Doc and Delaney? I already called my mom and she’s looking forward to babying you. She lives for this kind of stuff, so relax, get some sleep while you’re there, and you’ll be back up on your blue suede shoes before you know it.”

  “Ugh. That reminds me, I need to call my boss.” She ran a hand along her forehead. “You don’t happen to know where my phone is, do you?”

  He reached into his breast pocket and handed over her phone. “Quinn grabbed it out before they towed your car away.”

  She tried to remember what else she had in her car, but it hurt her head too much. Really, she didn’t own anything valuable anyway. Not anymore. The few items she’d had, she’d sold to pay cash for the car. She was already feeling like crap, so she opened her phone and pushed the preset for her boss, hoping he didn’t yell too much.

  “Hey, Monty, it’s me.” Her muscles tensed as he started in on her. She’d learned once Monty got his yelling off his chest, he was more reasonable to deal with. Unless the subject was money. He was never reasonable about money or his bottom line. “I know I missed my other deliveries, but it couldn’t be avoided.”

  Gah! She quickly pulled the phone away from her ear as her boss began his rant. When it finally wound down, she put the phone back to her ear.

  “Monty, I was in an accident. What? I don’t know about the guitar.” She darted her eyes over to Kaz. She’d totally forgotten about the guitar on her backseat.

  He frowned and gave a shake of his head. “Your guitar didn’t make it in one piece.”

  Wonderful. “Um, it sounds like the guitar is damaged, and they had to cut off one sleeve of the Elvis costume to stitch up my arm.”

  Monty yelled so loudly into the phone that Mira set it in her lap while he went ballistic. Her head couldn’t take the yelling. When his boil settled to a simmer, she picked the phone back up to try again to explain. “Monty? I’m sorry about the guitar and the costume . . . yes, I know. I read it; I know I’m liable. Monty, my car is in the shop. I’ll call you when it’s fixed.... I don’t know, a couple days, maybe?”

  Not what Monty wanted to hear and more yelling ensued.

  “What? No, Monty. That’s totally unfair. It wasn’t my fault.” She was about to make her case, which might have included begging, when Kaz stopped her.

  He reached over, took the phone from her, and hung up the call. “You don’t need to listen to that, concussion or no concussion.”

  “I know, but . . .” Why had she been putting up with Monty? Because it still beat stripping for a living, Mira. Duh. “Well, I won’t have to anymore. He just fired me.”

  Chapter Four

  You’re fired. She’d have thought as many times as she’d heard those words over the last year, they’d lose the ability to scare her. She’d thought wrong. And even though she’d hated this job, losing it scared her most of all. The other times she’d had to worry about finding the next job or finding a cheaper place to live. This time she was worried about finding her next meal. Had she finally hit bottom?

  No. She refused to go there. Not yet. One thing she’d learned about herself over the last year was that she was a fighter. She was scrappy. Was she scrappy enough to take the job at the Boom Boom Room? Some people might call that hitting rock bottom. She called it surviving, but still not something she was looking forward to.

  Was it time to come up with a good stripper name? “What do you think about the name Stormy Skies?”

  He glanced over at her. “Sounds like a stripper. Why?”

  “Because if I can’t talk my boss into hiring me back, that’s my next job prospect. How about Cinnamon Kiss?”

  “Elvis?”

  “No. Elvis would be a horrible stripper name. Phoenix Falling? Candy Sparkles?”

  “Whoa, take a breath over there. Try to relax and not worry for three days. Then we’ll come up with options.”

  “Options? There are no options.”

  “There are always options.”

  Ha! She doubted he’d say that if he’d been riding shotgun in her life the past year.

  “So, Elvis?” His gaze narrowed on her before turning back to the road. “Feel like sharing your real name?”

  She did a double take over to Kaz. “It’s Mira. Mira . . . Presley.”

  “Mira, I’m sorry about the job, but based on what I just heard from your boss, maybe in the long run it’s a good thing.”

  She pressed her lips together rather than say anything. It was easy for him to say that, but he wasn’t the one ping-ponging from job to job and payday to payday, actually counting pennies, hoping there was enough to eat and pay rent.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. That was an insensitive thing for me to say. What I mean is, please don’t worry about staying with my parents. They’ll honestly love having you there.”

  That was good to hear because right now she was too tired to figure out another plan. The fact that her head pounded like someone was trying to break through her skull with a power drill made serious thought impossible.

  “Earlier today, after the Elvis gram, you said you were looking for help.” He glanced at her, his eyes very serious, before refocusing on the road ahead. “Are you worried for your physical safety, Mira?”

  “If I said yes, would you help me find the Wizard?”

  Shaking his head, he gave a short laugh. “Still can’t help you. But I’ve
got a brother who’s a cop and another who’s a lawyer; they could help you.”

  She barely held back her snort of disgust. Yeah, she’d dealt with both of those in Miami and they couldn’t do a thing to help her. Not fully their fault; her ex seemed to know exactly what he could get away with without crossing a legal line. There were a number of things she was pretty sure he’d done that she couldn’t prove. But was she worried about her physical safety? Thank heavens not right now. She hadn’t heard from her ex since she’d fled Florida for North Carolina two months ago.

  “No, it’s not like that. I’m not in fear of my physical safety.” The toll on her mental health? That was another story. Over the last year, the growing fear that she was being watched somehow or being followed was wearing on her. How else did he know where she’d be or where she worked? Had he hired a private investigator? Was he following her himself? Or was she paranoid and imagining it all because it all seemed too crazy to be real. “I mean, unless you’ve got any more aggressive bulls around town.”

  “Pisser is the only one, but he gets out on a regular basis, so when you’re ready to leave town you might want to take another route.”

  “How bad is my car? I was a little too busy being pulled out by the fire department to get a look at her.” Pushing the too-big sunglasses back up on her nose, she watched as Kaz guided his truck to a stop in front of a pleasant Colonial-style house. “Do you think it’ll be drivable tomorrow?”

  Kaz winced. “Negative. Don’t even think about it right now. Doc said you need to rest your brain for at least three days. No computer, texting, TV, that sort of thing.”

  “Three days?” As she asked, she realized it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she had a job to rush back to anymore. She didn’t like the feeling of being stuck with no quick escape, though. Which totally sounded paranoid.

  “Three days. Doctor’s orders.”

  “I can’t intrude on your parents for three days.”

  “Wait until you meet them. Honest, Ma loves taking care of people. Besides, for the most part you’ll be lying in a dark room doing nothing. How much of a burden can you be?”

  “Well, I have to eat during those days.”

  “Ma loves to cook. Only do yourself a favor and tell her you’re allergic to meat loaf if she offers it. Let’s go get you settled.”

  By the time they made it up the driveway and along the brick sidewalk, Kaz’s mother was waiting with the front door open.

  “Ma, this is Mira. Mira, my mother, Cecelia Cates.”

  “You poor thing. Mira, I’ve been through this so often with my boys and their father, I should have a certificate.”

  Mira slid off the sunglasses and hat, handing them to Kaz. “I’m sorry to be imposing myself on you like this.”

  Cecelia wouldn’t hear it. “It’s no imposition. Let’s get you back in the guest room to rest, and then we’ll see about something to eat after your first wake-up call. How’s that sound?”

  “Like heaven, Cecelia. Thank you.” Between crashing on her friend Gwen’s couch for a month and the bed in her current furnished rental in Greensboro, which felt like it came straight out of Little House on the Prairie, Mira hadn’t slept on a decent mattress in three months.

  “I grabbed you a T-shirt and some sweatpants. I thought you might like to get out of the pantsuit, although I must say you make a great Elvis.” Cecelia handed her the clothes. “I’ve put a bell on the nightstand. If you need anything, ring it and we’ll come running. Otherwise, we’ll come bother you in two hours, like Doc said.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Cecelia walked around, closing the blinds and curtains, leaving the room a soothing gray. “It’s no trouble at all. Now get some rest.”

  Once Kaz’s mother left the room, Mira changed out of her pantsuit, slipped on the borrowed clothes, and slid in between the soft-as-silk sheets. The plush mattress was a welcome comfort for her bruised body and she sank blissfully to sleep.

  * * *

  After a light knock on the door with no response, Kaz slipped into the darkened room and over to the bed where Mira lay sleeping. Leaning over, he clicked on the lamp on the bedside table before calling her name quietly. When that didn’t do anything, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mira, time to wake up.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open, her eyes unfocused, her face lightly flushed from sleep. “Hey, there. I know you.”

  “You do. At least that’s what I’m here to check on. Can you sit up for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” She moved and groaned as she sat up slowly. “Oh, ouch. It feels like someone beat me up.”

  “Doc said you might be sore from the impact. What’s your name?”

  “Elvis.”

  He leaned down to inspect her eyes.

  “Kidding. Mira.”

  “And who am I?”

  “That depends. What color are your eyes?”

  “Brown.”

  “That makes you Kaz Cates. You brother has green eyes.”

  “You’re very observant and you passed the test. Are you hungry? I brought you some soup and a sandwich, plus a couple of bottles of water and some Tylenol for your head.”

  “God bless you. I’ll take it all, but maybe start with the Tylenol.”

  Kaz moved across the room to where he’d set the tray but paused before picking it up. “Hey, need to use the bathroom first?”

  “Actually I do. Can I take a warm shower too? I’m not light-headed at all.” When he hesitated, she added, “You can sit right in that chair by the window and I’ll leave the door open a few inches. You’ll be close enough if anything happens.”

  “Okay, sure. But make it short.”

  She slipped out of bed like she was balancing an egg on her head.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m just sore. The warm shower will help.” She disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door for privacy.

  A few minutes later he heard the shower turn on, and then Mira opened the door a few inches as promised. No surprise she sang in the shower. Not Elvis, though. Some popular song from the radio he couldn’t name if someone offered him money. Once a nerd, always a nerd. But he liked the sound of it.

  Except her husky voice led him to visualize her generous figure slick with water and soap. And the more he told his brain to stop, the more effort his brain put in to imagining Mira with her hair slicked back as the hot stream of water rained down on her. Damn if he didn’t picture his own body, wet and hard, up against her back where his hands could stroke and discover those sweet curves.

  Whoa, no. If he needed proof that it had been too long since he’d dated, this was it. Maybe it was time to address that neglected part of his life. He stood and tapped twice on the bathroom door, keeping his gaze on his shoes. “Hey, Mira, I think that’s enough standing for the night.”

  “Okay!” The water was cut off and the shower curtain squeaked open. “God, that felt really good.”

  Uh, no kidding. A little too good. “Glad it helped. Come on out when you’re ready so you can eat while the soup’s still warm.”

  Mira exited the bath smelling good enough to eat, like vanilla and peaches. Her hair was a different color. Still dark but fading, not the Elvis blue-black anymore. Kaz was a bit envious seeing her in Tynan’s old high school lacrosse jersey. Which was crazy because Mira would be out of his life in a few days. Besides, it wasn’t like science decathlon or computer club had jerseys. Oh, nice, Kaz. You sound like a teenager.

  He grabbed up the tray and waited for her to settle back under the covers before placing the tray on her lap.

  “Will you keep me company while I eat?”

  “Sure.” Dragging the corner chair closer so they could talk quietly because of her head, he sat and watched her start on the soup. “That’s Ma’s chicken noodle soup. She couldn’t help herself and made it special for you.”

  “I’m not even going to say I wish she hadn’t gone to the trouble because it�
�s delicious.”

  Kaz sat awkwardly while she ate, searching his brain for something to talk about. He did better when a conversation had a point, such as conveying information. “What was the song you were singing in there?”

  “Oh, an old Billy Joel song. My father used to sing it to my mother all the time.” Mira took a bite of the sandwich, but she was losing steam fast.

  “Do you need to call them?”

  “Who?”

  “Your parents. Or I could call them for you.”

  She shook her head. “No. My dad’s been gone a while and my mom’s on a cruise. I think I’m too full to eat any more.”

  “Don’t forget your pain medicine.” He handed her the bottle of water from the side table and watched her swallow the pills before picking up the tray. She really did need help if she had no family to call or friends nearby to help. With his big close-knit family, he’d never been as alone as Mira.

  “Hey, will you stay a bit longer?” Mira moved slowly until she lay on her side facing him. “Just talk to me until I fall asleep?”

  “Sure.” Kaz set the tray onto the dresser before sitting back on the chair. He’d been hoping to get his overactive imagination a safe distance away from Mira, who looked soft and delectable in bed. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “You. So, if you aren’t the Wizard, are you even a game developer?”

  “I design games, yes.” He shrugged. “But I’m actually a computer security consultant. The game design is something I do more for a hobby really. I also do some research and development too.”

  Mira tucked a hand under her pillow to adjust it. “What kind of R&D?”

  “Right now I’m experimenting with the therapeutic uses of virtual reality. For example, one project is using VR to help soldiers with PTSD.”

  “Were you in the military?”

  “No, but my brother Tynan was and has dealt with PTSD. My sister-in-law Delaney too. She lost her foot over in the war and struggled when she got back. The results with respect to treating PTSD are very promising.”

  “I love listening to you talk. You have one of those deep, smooth voices like a DJ on the radio.” She slipped one bare foot out from under the covers. “How did you get into game developing?”