The Parking Space

by Angela Archer

  Her brow furrowed as she gave me a sideways glance and traced me from my feet to my head—obviously, my attire caught her attention.

  “Are . . . are you going somewhere?”

  Laughter and music vibrated through the walls around us.

  “Just heading over to take care of our annoying neighbor again.”

  “Good luck with that. I’ve never seemed to have any.” She chuckled under her breath and untied her legs, freeing them before she made her way to the stairs. “Have a nice night.”

  “You, too.”

  As the older woman disappeared, I inhaled a deep breath and scurried toward the familiar apartment I didn’t want to visit. The music grew louder, thumping through my ears as my knuckles rapped hard against the door. Voices chatted on the other side—several different girls and a couple of men from the sound of it.

  I pounded again and waited until I finally heard footsteps striding toward me.

  Why, out of all nights, do I have to see him? Him, of all people.

  The door swung open and I flinched.

  “Yes . . .” Shirtless and holding a half empty bottle of vodka, Logan Hunter leaned against the doorframe. His seductive, amused voice grated on my last nerve. “And, what can I do for you this fine evening, Miss. Wright?”

  “Um, your stereo is a bit too loud.”

  “Is it?” He grinned from ear to ear and smacked his lips as he chewed on his gum.

  “Yes, it is.” I clenched my teeth and folded my arms across my chest. “You know I could file a complaint with management.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to.” He cocked his head to the side and winked.

  I wanted to punch him in the face.

  A bachelor in every sense of the word, Logan’s nightly escapades over the years had earned him quite the reputation in the building. As well as all of San Francisco, I was quite certain.

  Over his bare shoulder, two scantily dressed girls sauntered past the door. They glanced in my direction—one smiled and waved while the other one sipped on her drink and rolled her eyes. They both flung themselves down on the couch next to a man sitting with his back toward the door, laughing as they bumped into him.

  “Actually, you know, I think this time I will inform them,” I said. “Nearly every day it seems I have to deal with your noise and I’m growing tired of it.”

  “You’re always more than welcome to join us, you know.” He hooked his thumb in one of the belt loops of his jeans, pulling the waistband down to expose the tanned skin on his hip. “Maybe then you can have some actual fun in your life instead of spending every night alone with your cat.”

  Ouch.

  “I have fun.”

  “Oh really?” A smirk spread across his lips.

  “Of course I do.”

  “When was the last time you had sex?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Wow, really, that long?”

  “No, it’s none of your business.”

  “Okay, when was the last time you went out on a date?”

  “Tonight, actually.”

  “Must have been one hell of a date for you to be home this early in your pajamas.”

  I slacked my jaw to one side and hissed through gritted teeth. “Not all dates end with sex and a sleepover, you know.”

  He stepped toward me, so close the heat from his body warmed my own.

  I held my breath.

  “Well, that sounds boring. Are you sure you don’t want to come in just for a bit? Have a few drinks and see where the night leads us.” He winked.

  I pointed my finger in his face. “Turn down the music or I’ll report you to management in the morning.”

  Heat prickled through the shells of my ears and flushed my cheeks as I trotted away from him, skipping two or three steps as I fled up the stairs.

  Surely, I wasn’t a virginal prude. Believe me, just as probably thousands of girls in his lifetime, my thoughts had drifted toward a roll in the sheets with Logan—quite a few times, actually. However, I didn’t have the guts to act on those thoughts.

  I slammed my door behind me and pressed my forehead against it for a moment, letting my fury simmer down. The music below my feet softened. A glint of relief even if the memory of the last few moments left a bad taste in my mouth that not even the fermented grapes could hide.

  Charlie meowed again, greeting me for the second time tonight. As I bent down to scoop him up, I noticed my answering machine blinking again, and without much consideration, I pressed the button, waiting to hear Lisa’s voice telling or asking me something she had forgotten.

  However, it wasn’t she who blared through the speaker.

  “Hey Helen, it’s Tom. Saw you tonight at our old café. I remember how much you loved that place and how we went there almost every Saturday afternoon.” He chuckled. “I would have stopped by your table, but you looked like you were waiting for someone and I didn’t want to bother you. Not to mention, I didn’t know how you’d feel seeing me again. Perhaps that’s crazy of me, I don’t know. Anyway, I’m going to be in San Francisco for a few days and I wanted to see you. Maybe we can have lunch or dinner or whatever you want. You can pick and it’ll be my treat. You can reach me at the same number. I haven’t changed it.” He paused. “It . . . it was really good seeing you tonight. You looked beautiful. Then again, I suppose you always have.”

  THREE

  “DID YOU GET my text?” Lisa sat at the restaurant table with her menu in her hand. Before I could sit down, she repeated her question with one eyebrow raised. Her words sparkled in her eyes. Always so pushy when she wanted to hear my opinions about a man she happened to pass along my way. Her persistence could be both annoying and endearing at the same time.

  I knew she meant well.

  My dear friend from college, my best friend, and my engaged friend who since the day of her betrothal believed everyone should be in a relationship as fulfilling as her own. Of course, it was easy for Lisa to be so happy. She had found Ben—perfect Ben with whom all men paled in comparison, or so I had begun to think.

  “Which one?” My voice bordered with a slight growl.

  “Geez, what’s the matter with you?”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you’re sitting down because boy do I have news for you.”

  “What?”

  “Guess who called me last night?”

  “Travis? Did he tell you why he stood you up?”

  “Nope, not Travis.” I tossed my purse into the seat across from her and laid my jacket over the back of the booth before sitting down. “Tom.”

  “What did he say?”

  After having listened to the message at least two dozen times, I had no problem recounting it word for word to Lisa. Her eyes grew larger with every second, her disbelief building just as mine had not but twelve hours earlier.

  “What in the heck does all that mean?” she asked when I finished.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Are you going to call him back?”

  “Uh, that would be a no. Perhaps I might even throw in a few curse words before that no, too. Why would I ever want to even see him or talk to him? I have nothing to say to him, nothing at all.”

  “Not even to yell at him for what he did?”

  “What would be the point?”

  “It might make you feel better?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Feel better about what? I’m over it. I’m over what happened and I’m over him. I’ve moved on. I don’t need to talk to him. I don’t need closure. I don’t need anything except for him to just go away.”

  She blinked a few times and sipped her water. “If you say so.”

  “Yes, I say so. Okay, end of subject.” I flipped open my menu, pretending to scan through the items. The words blurred together. My heart raced the more I thought about that call and what it meant, not because I wanted to see or speak to him, but because I didn’t know if I had the strength to face the past again. “Now, what were yo
u asking about when I sat down?”

  “Oh, um, I wanted to know if you got my text.”

  “You mean the one with the picture of the guy?”

  “Yeah. I want to know what you thought of him. He was cute, wasn’t he? And he has an amazing job. He’s one of the vets at the clinic where I take Cassie. I don’t know why I didn’t think to introduce you to him sooner.” She winked. “Can I call it or what? Cute and smart and cares about animals.”

  “Well, I guess that explains the weird scrubs.”

  “They weren’t weird.”

  “They had dogs chasing their tails on them. Very manly, I must say.”

  “They did?” She fetched her phone from her purse and thumbed through her pictures. “Oh, yeah, they do. Huh, I didn’t even notice them. Well, that’s because he’s gorgeous . . . and all man by the way.” Her voice deepened as she showed me the picture again.

  Of course, she had a point as the dirty blond haired, hazel green-eyed handsome man stared back at me—his hair was almost brown if it weren’t for the sun kissed highlights. Waking up to his face every morning certainly wouldn’t be rough.

  “And I’m guessing he’s single, too, right?” I asked

  “Yes, he is. The receptionist told me he ended a serious relationship about a year ago. She didn’t know the details of the breakup, though.” Her eyes danced around her phone.

  “If you keep looking at your phone like that, I’m going to tell Ben,” I teased.

  She shot me a slight glare. “Doesn’t Charlie need something, like shots or a check-up or something?”

  “No, he’s not due for awhile. Besides, your vet clinic is across downtown. Getting there in traffic from my apartment would be a nightmare. Plus, I really like my vet, Dr. Stephens. He’s nice and knowledgeable and he always gives me a discount.”

  “He’s also married.”

  “Yeah, I know, I found him and his wife their house, remember?”

  Her lips curled into a frown and she crossed her arms across her chest. “So you’re not even going to meet this guy? I told him all about you.”

  I laughed. “I bet you did. Anyway, I thought after last night you were going to stay out of my dating life. What gives?”

  “I know. I know. That’s what I said and I’ll stick to that from now on. But I still think you should still take Charlie in for a check-up.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I lied. “So, do you know where I was when you texted me his picture?”

  “You said you had an appointment.” She shrugged her shoulders and sipped on her water. “Were you trying to sell a house to some boring little couple again? Did the picture make you lose your thoughts?”

  “My clients aren’t boring. And, no, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, remember?”

  “So?” She flipped over one of the pages in her own menu and continued scanning without looking me in the eyes.

  I cleared my throat. “Let me rephrase that for you, I had my OBGYN appointment for my annual pap.”

  Her eyes glanced up from the menu without her head moving. A slight smirk spread across her lips. “Were you in the waiting room?”

  “No.” I shot a glare at her. “I was in the exam room.”

  “Oh, please, tell me your doctor was in there with you.”

  “You know it’s not really easy to judge a man’s hotness when you’re flat on your back and your feet are sky high up in stirrups.”

  She threw her head back, laughing so hard that people three tables down turned to watch her. “Oh my, that’s priceless.”

  “It’s not funny.” Although my voice growled, the humor eased some of the angry bite of my tone.

  “Um, yeah, it is. It’s hilarious.”

  “Not so much when you’re going through it.”

  “Why on earth wasn’t your phone in your purse, then?”

  “I’m waiting for a call from Reece Jones.”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Hollywood herself. Heaven help you if you miss one of her calls.” Lisa lightened her voice in a snooty, brat-like pitch as she cast her glance toward the ceiling and clasped her hands together. “The star of one movie that wasn’t even a hit in the box office.”

  “She’s done other movies.”

  “None worth mentioning.”

  “According to you. I told you about that one I thought you’d like.”

  “Yeah, it was okay. The dialogue seemed a little flat and the story had some holes when it came to the museum and artifacts.”

  “Well, that’s stuff not many people would know. You only do because of your job, Miss Fine Arts Specialist.”

  Lisa turned up her nose. “Hey, I’m still paying on my student loans for that degree. And when making a movie, the least the director or screen play writers could do is be accurate.”

  “Okay, okay, so she hasn’t done anything you’ve liked, but she’s also done some TV shows.”

  “None of which I like, either.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Of her? Oh yes, I’m just so jealous of a woman with the IQ of a bean. Please.” Lisa waved off my words.

  Certainly, her indifference for the redheaded movie princess never sparked from even an ounce of jealousy. Instead, it came from the sincere annoyance in how Miss Jones treated people. I had worked with wealthy people before and none of them had caused even one-tenth the trouble that Reece had caused me.

  From the screaming public rants, to the late night calls, to the expecting for me to drop everything that I’m doing, I’d lived through it all and it had only been a couple of weeks since she had hired me.

  “Well, ditsy or not, finding her the multi-million dollar mansion she wants is my job.”

  “Whatever. I still think she should be a little more gracious. That’s all.”

  “Eh, the world is full of all kinds.”

  The server approached us with an annoying skip in her step. She grinned from ear to ear and her perky voice boomed. “Hey, there, ladies, and how are you two doing today?”

  Lisa’s eyes met mine and she raised one eyebrow as she gave the server a sideways glance and stifled a laugh. “We’re good, thanks.”

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Water, please,” I answered.

  “All right, I’ll get that out to you and will return for your order in just a moment.”

  As she trotted off, Lisa shook her head. “I wish I had that kind of energy.”

  “You and me both. I’m not even that bouncy after three cups of coffee.” I laughed. “Of course, part of my problem is Logan Hunter downstairs. Do you know that man kept me up until past midnight last night?”

  “Kept you up as in?” She clicked her tongue as though to insinuate some sort of sexy involvement between me and the hunky, dumbass downstairs.

  “He kept me up with his stupid stereo pounding my walls.”

  Her smile vanished.

  “Oh come on, he’s the last guy I should even consider spending time with.”

  With a shrug of her shoulders, she sipped at her water again. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Logan is out for one thing in life and it’s neither love, a relationship, nor a marriage. I really should complain to management about him, though. It’s getting old. Do you know what he had the nerve to say to me when I went to ask him to turn it down?”

  With a deep inhaled breath, she closed her eyes for a second and set down her menu, slapping it against the table before pushing it aside.

  “Enough about Logan.” Her eyes sparkled with the smile I knew all too well—the guy smile—the smile that reflected in every curve of her face when she planned to either tell me about a guy or ask about a guy that she’s already told me about.

  Although her intentions were cute and sweet, I had to admit that I didn’t wholeheartedly desire them. The girl had good taste in men—a master in her element ever since college. However, in her quest to find the perfect man for me, a part of me wondered if she overlooked certain qualities that wav
ed red flags from the rooftops.

  So intent on finding me a Mr. Right, she found me many Mr. Wrongs.

  “You never told me what you thought of Rick,” she said.

  “Who’s Rick?”

  “My vet. You know the guy in the picture I sent to you.”

  “Oh. I don’t know. I suppose he’s good looking.”

  “You suppose?” Her chest shoved against the table as she leaned forward to emphasize her shock and tone. “What do you mean? He’s gorgeous. Seriously, if I decided to end things with Ben I’d be all over that.”

  “Oh, shut it, you know you and Ben are never going to break-up, ever. You two are going to be that couple who grow old together and end up dying within hours, if not moments, of each other just so you can go to Heaven hand in hand.”

  The server returned, setting down the glass of water on the table before she tossed a straw in front of me. “Have you two decided what you want?”

  “House salad, dressing on the side and an order of steamed veggies, please,” Lisa said.

  “Chicken Caesar salad, please, and can I get some extra dressing on the side?”

  “Sure, no problem.” The perky young woman scooped up the two menus from the side of the table. “I’ll get that put right in the computer for you.”

  As she trotted off, yet again, I fetched the straws and pealed the paper wrapper from the white pole of plastic.

  “You know, you should watch the calories when asking for extra dressing,” Lisa said flatly.

  I snorted a laugh. “Um, it’s not me who is on that insane diet. That’s you.”

  “Hey, I’m trying to keep this figure for my wedding, thank you very much.” She grabbed the wadded up straw wrapper and threw it at my head. “Of course, why I mention calories to you, I have no idea. You have the metabolism of a gazelle, Miss-I-don’t-gain-any-weight-ever.”

  “I gain weight.”

  “Ha. When? I swear you could eat like a horse and never look like one. Me? I look at a French fry and gain ten pounds.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I just really need to fit into my wedding dress.”

  “You will.”

  “Speaking of the wedding . . .” She picked her glass up off the table, took a few sips, and then set it back down, the hinted notion she had something big on her mind glimmered in her blue eyes.