Out of Formation

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Out of Formation Page 8

by Ella Fox


  I was still trying to reconcile my disappointment a minute or so later when the door to my tiny office flew open and banged against the wall, rattling the framed photo of Barcelona that hung just inside.

  “I tried to explain to him that you're unavailable but he won’t listen,” Ben screeched.

  “And I told him to mind his damn business,” a too familiar voice growled. “No man tells me I can not see you, Avelina.”

  My eyes went wide as Ben moved aside and Mateo strolled into my office as though he’d done it a thousand times, his green eyes flashing fire as they locked onto mine. Nothing had changed. With one look, we were the only two people in the universe. A million butterfly wings fluttered inside of my stomach and chest as I licked my lips and tried to get my bearings. Mateo’s eyes stayed on me for countless seconds before he jerked his head in Ben’s direction, breaking the spell with the reminder that someone else was in the room.

  “Tell him to get out,” he commanded.

  I knew I should tell Mateo to go pound sand, but I was busy trying not to have a damn heart attack. Relieved to have an excuse to look away from him, I turned my attention to Ben.

  “You can go,” I said. “I’ll deal with Mr. Cruz.”

  Mateo cursed under his breath, muttering in Spanish about putting me over his knee. I felt my cheeks flush pink as I forced myself not to respond.

  I was thankful Ben didn’t understand Spanish because he’d have been more scandalized than he already was. It was apparent he had no idea what to do since his eyebrows seemed to have permanently relocated to the top of his hairline.

  “Are you sure?” he asked as he took two steps backward.

  As anxious as I was, I still had to stifle a choked laugh. When it suited him, Mateo had that effect on people.

  “I have him under control,” I assured Ben.

  My words were nothing but bluster. I most definitely did not have him under control. I was in no way prepared to deal with Mateo Cruz, and without the benefit of any warning, I was thrown even more off kilter.

  Mateo chuckled darkly, a low rumble of sound I felt in my core.

  “Tienes todo de mi,” he murmured.

  He’d said I had all of him. My heart slammed against my chest like it wanted to break out and go to him.

  The door closed behind Ben with a soft snick, and I had no doubt he would be running from office to office to tell everyone what was going on. Word would spread like wildfire, and within five minutes all one hundred and forty closet-sized rooms on the floor would be abuzz. Many of my co-workers would be waiting with bated breath for Mateo to leave so they could descend on me to demand details.

  I gritted my teeth and glared at him as I crossed my arms. I’d had my job for six weeks and had only just started to settle in. That was all a thing of the past. Although I was fairly certain Ben hadn’t recognized Mateo, I had no doubt someone else would. Once that happened, all bets were off. After all, it wasn’t every day a gorgeous billionaire bachelor showed up at the office to claim his errant fiancée.

  “I’m so sorry we didn’t get a chance to spend any time together,” Emery sighed, a frown marring her perfectly smooth face. Even without any makeup on she was stunningly beautiful.

  Although she was two years older than me, Emery had been my best friend and counterpart since the day I’d met her when I was a terrified four-year-old who had just been thrust into a situation I hadn’t been prepared for. We’d lived next door to one another and had always been there for each other, no matter what. I’d been devastated when she left Lakeport, primarily because I hadn’t expected it. She’d gone from high school senior to international sensation in what felt like the blink of an eye.

  Her rise had come when she’d been approached after a high school talent show by the director of Bytes, an insanely popular show about computer hacking vampires that had been about to launch on cable. The rest, as they say, was history. She'd done a screen test, and four weeks later she was filming in Los Angeles. From there she'd gone from supporting character to breakout star of the show within one season. The show had aired its final episode two months ago, and now Emery was going on to do her first feature film.

  The exasperating thing to me was that Emery didn't enjoy acting. She originally did it for the money, but at a certain point it took on a life of its own. I constantly told her that she should take the money she'd earned and bounce so that she could do what she loved, which was horticulture. That was her dream, but she felt too beholden to the people who'd helped her get where she was. I suspected they manipulated into her staying, but I couldn’t make decisions for her.

  Besides, who was I to talk? I'd never enjoyed school and I'd always known I hadn't wanted to go to college unless college started offering a multi-prong fashion, makeup, food prep and arts and crafts degree. I wanted to do hair and makeup while also learning how to cook and make intricate crafts— but I didn't want to be a chef, a hair stylist, a makeup artist or a full-time crafter because choosing one meant giving up the others. That limited my choices and left me on the fence about what to do with my life.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to be independent so that the people who had given up everything for me wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of me ever again. I’d graduated high school at loose ends, unsure of exactly how to proceed. And then, Emery stepped in. At the barbeque to celebrate my graduation she told me she needed a house sitter for six weeks while the show filmed in Europe and asked if I would be interested.

  It was like dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit. I'd jumped at the opportunity without hesitation, and it was the best decision I'd ever made. It launched an unexpected career that paid me a good amount of money, most of which I was able to sock directly into the bank. Without rent or utility bills hanging over my head, I'd amassed a healthy savings account. That allowed me to put money into my love of food, fashion, and crafts, and now I had a secondary online career that was paying off, too.

  Of course, Emery took precedence over all my other clients. Three years in I worked for her every time the opportunity presented itself. Since I stayed with her anytime I was between jobs—something that was becoming more and more rare—it wasn’t a surprise that I felt most at home at her Malibu rental.

  “The studio set up an interview they need me there for, hence the earlier flight,” she said, halting my trip down memory lane. “I’ll be mostly off the grid because the location is so remote, but on Saturday I get to stay in town and stay in a hotel, which supposedly means access to reliable internet. If you’ve got something that isn’t time sensitive you think I need to know, just Facebook message me. I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I get to my computer each week. My business manager is on alert that any call from you is high priority so, in case of emergency, he's your go-to."

  I assured her with absolute confidence that I had it all under control. She exhaled with relief and hugged me tightly before climbing into the back of the black stretch limo that would be taking her to LAX.

  Her boyfriend, Elliot, a screenwriter, was already seated inside, talking on the cellphone that was always in his possession. Elliot and Emery became a couple over the course of the previous six months. They'd met at a club on the night of her twenty-third birthday, and he immediately set about wooing her. Two months later they were sleeping together, and a month after that, he'd moved in. I made an effort to be polite to Elliot, but something about him didn't sit well. At thirty-eight he was significantly older than her, and on top of that, he had four ex-wives.

  Four ex-wives was excessive in my opinion. I said as much to Emery, and her response had been that LA was different. No kidding it was different—but not that different. Marriage was a commitment, full stop. To have tried and failed four times within a decade was a flashing neon sign about Elliot, as far as I was concerned.

  No children had resulted from any of the marriages and all the exes were actresses, which some might say was normal for a man who worked in the business. P
ersonally, I found it off-putting. I also had my suspicions about the timing of their meeting—conveniently just as the movie he’d written was being cast. She swore that she hadn’t felt pressured into it, but I’d read the script myself and it wasn’t anything to write home about.

  On top of all that, I thought it was weird that he’d moved into her place. From what I saw he treated her okay when he wasn’t on his cell phone, but I often wondered why she let him stay. It was, after all, her rental home. “I’ll take care of everything,” I assured her.

  “I know you will. This is such a great arrangement, Kaya. You’ll never know the peace of mind you being here watching my boy gives me.”

  “You know how much I love him,” I smiled. "Relax, have a safe trip and remember to have fun and enjoy life in rural New Zealand. It sounds amazing.”

  Something flashed in her eyes as she bit her lip and darted her gaze to Elliot before looking back at me. “I’ll be hanging with this guy for two months without cell phone or internet interruption. I’m sure it’s going to be great,” she murmured.

  I wondered about the way she'd said it but then wrote it off to her being frazzled about the earlier flight. I knew all the time they spent apart and the hours and hours he spent on the phone, on the computer or out at meetings drove her nuts. I also knew they hadn't had sex in nearly three months, which was another red flag for me. She'd told me in our last Facebook chat that she was hoping the two months away would boost their relationship. I had my doubts.

  "Oh! I almost forgot to remind you," she said with a snap of her fingers. "The house next door is finished, and it was a hub of activity last week with furniture deliveries. Word in the neighborhood is that it's a vacation home and Donna from down the block says some people arrived two nights ago. I haven't seen or heard anything yet myself but she's never wrong so don't be surprised when you hear signs of life on the other side of the wall. It shouldn't affect you, but I didn't want you to be caught off guard."

  “Got it. Noise from next door is not a reason to panic since humans live there now.”

  We both laughed as we finished saying our goodbyes. Elliot stopped talking on his cell phone just long enough to lean forward, lift his chin in my direction and mouth later before the door closed. Elvis and I stood and watched as the limo pulled down the drive and out the gate, which I made certain closed behind it before I turned and walked back into the house.

  I spent the next hour unpacking my clothes in the beautiful peach and white guest room I always stayed in at Emery's house. It was a cozy room with a beautiful view of the yard. Once I had myself all squared away, I went outside and saw to topping up Elvis’s metal water pails. He danced around the yard beside me, drinking a bit from each one after I added fresh water to it. By the time I’d finished the business of settling in I was starving, so I took a break and ate a hummus and chicken wrap at the kitchen island while I leafed through the new HGTV magazine I’d grabbed from the living room. I was just cleaning up after myself when my cell phone rang. I smiled when I saw the name on the display.

  "Hi, Gigi!"

  "Hi, Sunshine. Just checking to make sure that you got to Emery's okay. You know how Dean and I worry."

  My heart warmed just hearing her voice. “I’m here, safe and sound,” I said cheerfully. “How about you two? Headed to Key West tonight, right?”

  About six months after my high school graduation Gigi and Dean sold their house, bought an RV and got out onto the road. They'd always dreamed of exploring the world, and now they were doing it. I'd gotten my sense of adventure from them. They'd been to thirty-two of the fifty states in two and a half years, and they seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. Currently they were slowly working their way back to California to spend a few days at Emery's with me before they flew to New York to embark on a one hundred and thirty-four-night cruise aboard the Queen Mary 2.

  “We made such good time that we arrived in Key West this morning, a whole day ahead of schedule. Dean’s already made friends, of course. We just love this RV park living, honey. Such a feeling of community at these places.”

  I grinned at the excitement in her voice. More than anyone in the world, Gigi and Dean deserved to be happy and free.

  “It might feel that way because Dean can make friends anywhere,” I chuckled.

  "It's true," she laughed. "Thank goodness I've got Dean because you and I both know without him around I'd get lost in my reading and forget to talk to anyone but you."

  Gigi read spy novels like it was her job. Every few days Dean would text me a new photo of her reading, some new American backdrop behind her. If it weren't for her iPad, their RV would be crammed to the gills with books.

  “You perfectly complement each other,” I agreed.

  "I know that's true, but right now he's driving me nuts," she groused with a dramatic sigh. "He's getting impatient, so I'm going to hand the phone off to him now. I don't know why he doesn't just call you himself since he always takes it from me before I get to say anything."

  There was some shuffling in the background before Dean’s voice was on the line. “Gigi knows perfectly well that I hate this stupid phone. I can never figure out how to find the damn contact list without dialing someone by accident. The amount of time I’ve spent making small talk with people I never meant to call is appalling.”

  I snorted out a laugh as I leaned against the Spanish Talavera tiles on the counter in front of the window at the kitchen sink. Everyone knew Dean hated small talk with a passion, so misdialing was an annoyance. I grinned while I gazed out the window and watched Elvis wander from pail to pail.

  “You could get you a phone without a touchscreen you know,” I pointed out for the millionth time.

  “But then I wouldn’t be able to play the Candy Crush,” he answered, “and I’m three stars all the way through level four hundred and eighty-two, Sunshine.”

  Dean took Candy Crush very seriously. He’d play the same level dozens of times until he had a three-star score. Gigi joked that he could probably have bought a luxury car with the amount of money he’d put into buying in-game items.

  “Well we wouldn’t want you to lose that,” I agreed.

  “Damn straight,” he laughed, “so you’re now safe and sound at Emery’s. Anything new there?”

  I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “Not that I know of. We didn’t get to talk because they bumped her to an earlier flight. She seemed fine, though.”

  “She still with that old dipshit?” he asked bluntly.

  I bit back a laugh. "Mm-hmm."

  Dean let out a harsh sound. “That girl has always been too damn accommodating. She’s worth more than some old dirtbag who’ll never appreciate her.”

  “Dean!” I scolded. “He’s thirty-eight. That’s hardly old.”

  "There are a few kinds of old, Sunshine. There's physical age, there's mentality, and then there are road miles. That idiot's taken so many people around the block the warranty is about to run out. I hate to see her with someone so damn unworthy. If you ever show up with someone like that, I won't hesitate to load up my BB gun and chase him away."

  I giggled, the image of Dean taking shots at someone with his Red Ryder BB gun not hard to conjure up. He was very protective of me, something I was incredibly grateful for.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I answered firmly. “I won’t get into any more relationships until I’m twenty-five. I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone else.”

  He sighed heavily, my stance about dating something that frustrated him to no end.

  "Some day you will," he said firmly. "And if that day comes before you're twenty-five, I hope you give the guy a chance.

  "I've never met anyone who even made me pause," I responded.

  "I love that you're headstrong, Sunshine, but I worry that you'll let something good slip through your fingers."

  I chuckled as I unwrapped a watermelon Jolly Rancher and popped it into my mouth. "If that happens it w
ould mean the person wasn't really the love of my life."

  "Honey, you know age has nothing to do with love. Whether you're twenty-five or fifty-nine, the only thing that matters is that it's real and you've chosen well for yourself. What if what could've been the love of your life slips through your fingers because you're too damn stubborn to take a chance?"

  Dean and I had the same discussion whenever the subject of my dating came up. We both knew where we stood on it and I didn't see anything changing. He wanted me to be happy, but I knew what happened when people got into relationships when they were too young. I diverted his attention away from the subject as I always did and we moved on to talking about the RV Park they were at in Key West. Once we'd finished talking, he gave the phone back to Gigi, and I spent a few minutes talking to her before we wrapped up our conversation.

  After getting off the phone, I went upstairs and changed into my bathing suit, an adorable one-piece navy blue suit with a dark red bandeau accented bodice. It was vintage in style, which I loved. I'd been so happy when I found it on the clearance rack at Walmart. I may have danced a little jig in the aisle. Finding something cute and cheap was a thing to celebrate. I'd done a whole haul video for my subscribers after my last trip to Walmart, and it was one of my most popular videos to date.

  I applied a liberal amount of high SPF coconut-scented sunscreen and then took up position on one of the plush loungers by the pool. If there were a better time to housesit than the beginning of summer at the beach, I couldn’t imagine what that time would be.

  After I slid my sunglasses into place, I played with the control on the lounger until I was in the most comfortable position to soak up some rays. It was a gorgeous day in Malibu. The sun was high in the sky, the warmth of it against my skin a most welcome feeling. With each passing minute, I relaxed a little more as the soothing sound of the waterfall wall that ran along the side of the pool lulled me into a state of Zen. Before long my eyes started to drift shut and a few minutes after that I’d nodded off.

 

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