“This is going to sound really stupid,” Scott said, while we browsed through dark denim jeans.
“What?” I asked, holding a mountain of clothing in my arms.
“Well, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
My heart sank. “You don’t like the clothes?”
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just—well, I haven’t been coming in here to buy clothes for my mom,” he said. “Well, the first time I came in here I did.”
“Okay—well, I would think these clothes are a little small for you.” The thought of him trying to squeeze his perfect male physique into the things I picked out was a little unsettling.
He laughed so hard I thought he might pee his pants. “You just made my day, Alexa,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.
I couldn’t possibly spend another minute with the cross-dressing freak. My eyes darted across the room in hopes of finding someone to rescue me. “Okay, uh...maybe I should just give you some time alone.”
“No wait! I promise you I’m not a drag queen or anything even remotely close to that.”
“Well, then what’s the problem?” I asked, growing impatient.
“I just hope I don’t scare you off when I say that the only reason I come in here is to see you.”
I wandered back to the cash registers with my face growing hot. Was he freaking serious?
This man must have noticed the blank look that washed over my face, when he gently touched my shoulder, and said, “Please, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I turned back around to face him. “What might you do with all these clothes, then, if I may ask?”
“Well, I have been giving them to my sister, but now she expects gifts every time I visit her.”
I rang him up on the register, feeling giddy. A part of me melted away every time he glanced at me with those hypnotizing jade-colored eyes. He was so perfect that he didn’t seem real.
“Your total today is $201.57.”
“Charge it,” he said with smile.
I paid more attention to detail the minute he handed me his credit card, and quickly read, Scott Logan. A tremor of awareness shot through me once I realized that one of the sales girls was standing behind me and watching.
Scott leaned over the counter, his mouth moving close to my ear, and whispered, “Can you go outside on a break for a moment?”
I nodded and said, “Megan, I’m going to take a ten.”
I waited for Scott to leave before I followed him outside. I was completely amazed that a day that had started off so mundane and routine could be filled with so many unexpected surprises. I met up with Scott in the parking lot, just a few feet away from the front of the store.
“Hey, sorry about that. I just didn’t want to get you in trouble with your boss or anything while you were on the clock,” Scott said. His hands were embedded deep in his pant pockets, like a little boy unsure of himself. “I don’t want to sound so forward, but I wanted to ask you, would you like to have lunch tomorrow—with me, I mean?”
Another curve ball. “Um...I...” I hesitated. One glance at those sparkling eyes, and I made up my mind. “Sure. I’m off at one.” The words were almost automatic, like someone else was speaking for me.
“Beautiful. I have to get back to the office.” A terribly handsome smile spread across his face, so flawless that I wanted to catch it and bottle it up forever. “I look forward to lunch tomorrow. Let’s meet in this same spot.”
For the first time in my life, I felt desirable. A lightheadedness caught me off guard—a feeling I rarely ever experienced, and I didn’t want the sensation to fade.
***
The next day couldn’t have gone by any slower. When my shift finally ended, I braced myself. I waited for Scott outside the store, wondering if he was really going to show up. Scott popped up unexpectedly while I was pacing back and forth. He looked fresh-faced in a fine tailored business suit. He wore a crisp light blue shirt underneath his jacket, and a dark blue tie. No doubt about it, the man looked like a million dollars in a suit. The sight of him tugged at my heart. I couldn’t help but wonder why this guy didn’t have a significant other. I glanced down at the pale yellow sundress I had just purchased moments before our lunch date and hoped it did me justice.
“Sorry I’m late. My clients decided at the last minute they wanted to make an offer on a home,” he explained.
“So you’re in real estate?” I asked.
“Yep. Scotty Logan at your service,” he said, handing me a glossy business card that displayed his picture and contact information.
“Wow. You look very—sophisticated.”
“Hey, I try,” he said, shooting me a confident smile. “So I’m starving. What are you in the mood for?”
“How about Asian?”
“Great. I know the perfect place.”
We walked across the street to a small Thai restaurant. The distinct sound of laughter flowed from inside as we approached. The air was spicy with the delicious aroma of barbequed meat and fried noodles wafting through my nose and teasing my taste buds. We stepped into a dimly lit vintage atmosphere with dark wooden furniture and authentic Thai décor. A smile spread across the Thai hostess’s thin lips when she saw us come through the door. She immediately led us to a booth by a window.
“I hope this place isn’t too shabby,” Scotty said, placing a napkin in his lap.
“I really like it here already,” I assured him.
“Just wait until you try the food. Best satay in town, if you ask me.” He looked over the menu. “I’ve been coming here for years.”
“Well, if it tastes as good as it smells—”
“By the way, you look stunning in that dress,” Scotty said from behind his menu. “Yellow is definitely your color.”
A silent giggle rose from my throat. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Alexa, how old are you?”
Little did he realize that I wasn’t even legal to drink. I was a bit apprehensive about revealing my age. “I’m nineteen—almost twenty. What about you?”
“I’m thirty-two,” Scotty said with a calm smile, “but who’s counting, right?”
The waiter showed up to take our order.
“I’ll have the chicken satay,” I said.
“And I’ll have the same,” Scotty replied, nodding politely and handing our menus over.
“You’ve never been married?” I asked.
“Well, I was close once,” Scotty said, “but things just didn’t work out. She had some family issues to deal with.”
“And no serious girlfriend?”
“Well, I’ll be honest with you. If you can forgive me for being so blunt—a lot of women I date aren’t looking for anything serious.”
From my vantage point, I found his sincerity somewhat cute. “No, it’s okay. I understand.”
“I mean, excuse me for sounding so egotistical, but I think I’m a good catch. I have a good job, I live in a nice place, and I drive a nice car. I don’t get it. What more do women want?”
The waiter brought out our meals. Scotty immediately forked in a mouthful of noodles, followed with an, “Mmmmm. Like I said—the best in town.”
“For you to be a rock star,” I said, answering his previous question.
“Huh?” he said, dabbing away sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
“What women want—a rock star.”
“Yeah? Then I’m screwed.” Scotty regretfully looked down into his plate. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much, right?”
“No, I appreciate your honesty,” I said, finally digging into my lunch.
He took a sip of his beer and replied, “Sometimes my honesty scares women away.”
I pushed a piece of chicken around on my plate and looked straight into his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s your lucky day. I’m not like most women.”
“Yeah, I’m sensing that,” he said. “I don’t pretend to be s
omeone I’m not. What’s the point if you’re looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with?”
Something inside me wanted to reach out and touch this man so badly that I could almost feel my hands beginning to itch. I disregarded my feelings by focusing on the last bite of my spring roll. “Well, I find you refreshing.”
Scotty took another sip of beer. He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbow on the table comfortably. “So what’s your story?” he asked. “I’m sure you’re more interesting than I am.”
I looked out the window, unsure of how to respond. “I live with my mom,” I admitted, hoping and praying he wouldn’t find it a turn-off.
“Smart move these days. Stay with your folks for as long as you can. Take it from somebody who sells houses for a living. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
At this comment, I felt more than relieved. “I work at the store part-time. Although sometimes it feels more like fulltime and I’m going to school.” I was sure Scotty was used to dating sophisticated and educated girls. I didn’t exactly fit in that category, but I reasoned, what you see is what you get. If he didn’t like it—tough toe nails. “That’s pretty much it at the moment.”
He smiled at me as though he was reading my mind. “Aw, come on. I’m sure there’s more.”
“I don’t reveal my life story on the first date,” I teased.
“Hmmm…is that a challenge?” he responded, rubbing his chin quizzically.
“I don’t know. I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.”
“You should know that I’m always up for a good challenge.”
The sun had set into the late afternoon by the time we finished dessert.
“Alexa—” When Scotty put his hand on top of mine, a vein of electricity flowed through me unlike anything I’d felt in years. “I would love to see you again.”
The next thing I knew, I wrote my number down on a napkin. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of a long and torrid love affair.
Like a Thief in the Night
1993
My parents rarely went out to dinner alone together. Honestly, the only time I saw them leave the house without me was on their birthday or anniversary. Dad’s work schedule at the dealership was pretty hectic. Usually when he came home at a decent time was only because of a slow day on the lot. By all means, Dad always made an effort to have a sit-down family meal and spend extra quality time with me and Mom whenever he could.
One evening, the two of them decided to go out to an Italian eatery across town. Dad wanted to celebrate his victory of selling five cars in one day, a first in his sales career. As to be expected, I was not invited. I can’t say it bothered me. Sometimes I enjoyed the solitude. Besides, I was old enough to stay home without supervision. Although, I think Mom was wound a little tight when it came to leaving me all alone. Mom made it crystal clear that no boys were allowed inside house while they were gone. I knew all too well that she was talking about young, Mr. Storm. I wasn’t going to disobey the rules. I planned to watch a little television and then go to sleep.
Someone knocked on my front door two hours after my parents left. It was strange that anyone would visit past ten. I hated to be interrupted in the middle of my favorite television show. Miffed, I peeled myself off the couch and made my way to the door. Carter stood on my porch in an oversized red hoodie and blue jeans. I immediately remembered my mother’s stern warning about male visitors. I wasn’t about to betray her trust no matter how hard it was at that moment.
“I’m surprised to see you so late. What’s up?”
“Where is it?” he snapped.
I was caught off guard by his irate attitude. “Where is what?”
“Oh come on.” He crossed his arms. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Um, actually I don’t.”
“Just give it back,” he said, holding out the palm of his hand.
“Give what back?”
“How can you stand there and lie to my face?”
“I don’t know what the hell you are even talking about.”
“My mom’s pearl necklace. I know you took it.”
Was he really accusing me of being a thief? I was completely and most unpleasantly taken by surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I know you have it.”
A gust of chilly night air whipped cross my face, followed by a coldness running down my spine. “First of all, I wouldn’t take your mom’s stupid pearl necklace because it looks like something old ladies would wear. Second, I can’t believe you would actually accuse me.”
“You were the only one in the house today.” He wrapped his arms around his waist as though he were cold. “It’s obvious you took it.”
“I don’t think so. Your mom probably just misplaced it, and—” All at once it hit me. I’d known Carter long enough to know the games Mary Storm liked to play between me and her son. How convenient to blame me when her necklace turned up missing. It gave Mary the perfect opportunity to persuade Carter into thinking I was some sort of thief. Alas, causing us to fight and succeeding at breaking up our friendship once and for all.
I shook my head grudgingly and finally said, “Carter, I think your mom set this up.”
“What?” His eyes bulged from his head in disbelief. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all night.”
“Look, you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t steal anything from you or your mother. You know I’m no thief.”
“My mom wouldn’t lie to me.”
A chuckle arose in my throat. “Yeah right. That’s a good one.”
“I think you’re the liar this time.”
It was a fruitless battle, but I needed to plead my case. “What about the time she came over and blamed me for breaking the lamp in your family room? And then later you found out that Darren admitted he did it the day before she accused me.”
“Uh—” he grumbled. “That was just a mistake.”
“Oh please.” The conversation was becoming irritating. “Why are you making excuses for her? You know she’s always been out to get me any which way she can.”
“Don’t blame my mom for your problems,” he spat.
His comment had me fuming. “You know what? Get off my property.”
The whole house seemed to rattle after I slammed the door in his face. I didn’t understand how he could be so accusatory when he knew all about his mother’s antics. It really rubbed me the wrong way. I wasn’t about to take the incident lightly—at least not until he apologized.
***
I was sure Carter would come to his senses the next day, but I was about to find out how wrong I was. My first clue was when Carter avoided me at school. I found him sitting at a lunch table with his so-called friend, Michael Young. He came in at about five-two, was abnormally thin, and had tight curly brown hair. It was customary for students to mistake him for a fifth grader. I swear Darren could have fit into Michael’s wardrobe. I knew from experience that he was a follower and a user. Michael obviously thought he would gain some sort of social status by hanging around with Carter.
The first of the drama started when I sat at a lunch table close by the two of them. I caught sight of the two of them staring at me and snickering like two juvenile little boys. Carter leaned conspiratorially close to Michael and whispered something into his ear. Michael’s eyes went wide with surprise.
Michael chanted moments later, “Alexa’s a klepto. Alexa’s a klepto!”
Both he and Carter broke out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
“You two are so immature,” I said, keeping my tears at bay.
“Hey Michael, watch your lunch. Alexa might swipe it,” Carter announced.
My so-called best friend was illustrating his dark side by turning against me. It made me feel like I was experiencing déjà vu. There I was on the first day of seventh grade where my best friend just decided to humiliate me for no apparent reason.
“Hey, Alexa
, the school called—they want their supplies back,” Michael shouted.
I had just enough bullying as I could handle. I abruptly ran from the lunch area in tears, feeling like had I swallowed glass that had splintered into a million pieces inside my stomach. It was bad enough that Carter accused me of stealing, but bringing someone else into our business was unbearable. I left school that afternoon hoping to never see his face again.
I was outside in my driveway shooting hoops later that evening, trying blow off some steam. That’s when I caught Carter coming toward me. In no way did I forget about what he did to me that day. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the mood for any more allegations.
The basketball slipped from my hands as I rushed inside the house, and rolled down the driveway. Carter retrieved the ball before it spun down the street and called out, “Alexa—”
I slammed the front door behind me—my way of showing him I wasn’t messing around.
He called my name from the porch. “Alexa, can I talk to you please?”
“No. Just go away. You’re a jerk.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
A sob escaped me. “I said just go away. I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”
“You were right. I was getting a dollar from my mom’s purse, and I saw it. She had the necklace the whole time.”
It was too late for apologies as far as I was concerned. The damage had been done. “I don’t care what you have to say. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
***
Carter and I had English class together the next day. To make matters worse, we were forced to sit next to each other in the library that same class period. Fortunately, it was movie day, so we didn’t have to interact with other students. I convened uneasily at the library table with my arms crossed. My attention was drawn to the small television playing a cheesy cartoon movie that I had become increasingly bored with.
During the last ten minutes of the ridiculously boring film, Carter insisted on whispering at me incessantly. “I’m sorry, Alexa,” he pleaded in heavy whispers. “I really am. How can I make it up to you?”
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