by JB Schroeder
Kalpani couldn’t see the face, hidden in the shadow. Her brain processed like lightning—if this was an intruder, she should strike first, then run for it. If it was the contractor or a sub or Jonah—
She knew that voice. “Jonah?”
“Kalpani, what the hell are you doing?”
“Me? What the hell are you doing? You scared me to death.”
“And what—that broom was going to make up for your five-foot height and you were going to fend off an intruder?” Jonah spun away, then turned back to her, face no longer in shadow, and she saw he was furious. “You shouldn’t have come up here armed. You should have called the cops and left the building. Don’t ever put yourself in that situation.”
“Don’t you put me in that situation. And for your information, I didn’t think I was confronting a person. I thought I was going to be chasing off a possum or something.” She was pissed off because he’d scared her—and angry that she was ridiculously glad to see him. She threw the broom out into the other room, and it hit the floor with a bang.
“Down here in the Strip?” His hands went to his hips.
“I don’t know—a raccoon or a bird. I thought maybe a window had been left open. And then I thought— Never mind.” Kalpani huffed out a breath. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”
“I—” He waved a hand and shook his head. “I realized I needed something—some files from the hard drive.”
The screen was on and his laptop appeared to be on as well. It sat open on bit of table that wasn’t covered in boxes or printers.
“You couldn’t have come in the daytime like a normal person?”
He rolled his eyes. “It seemed easier to just come tonight and not be in anyone’s way.”
There were stacks of paper beside him, and she leaned forward to look.
“I decided to take some stuff I had boxed up, too. Since I was already here.” He shifted slightly, blocking her view. “I’ll just get what I need and get out of here. If you’ll give me a minute.”
“Fine.”
Kalpani stalked out of the room, snatched up the broom, and stomped back down the stairs. Once she put the broom back where she found it, she pushed her hair out of her face and looked around, at a loss and unreasonably off balance. She’d told him he could store his stuff up there, but she’d assumed he’d access it during the day, not sneak in at night. He’d scared the daylights out of her, and anger was a side effect of being scared. Annoyance was a side effect of the oddly joyous feeling that had leapt in her chest at seeing him.
He looked like shit, frankly. His brown hair was too long, his dark scruff bordered on a beard, there were unhealthy circles under his eyes—yet still, he looked so dang good.
She heard his footsteps above and shook her head. She told herself she couldn’t leave him here alone, but really, the urge to see him again—without a makeshift weapon in hand—rooted her in place. She’d missed him these last few weeks. Before the holidays, she’d gotten used to popping in to deliver him news every few days. But after? She didn’t even know where he was living until Darcy told her.
She had recognized his art in two other shop windows and wondered how he was faring. People should be buying it. His work was unique and compelling and should appeal to anybody who loved Pittsburgh.
She hadn’t expected to bump into him until Darcy’s wedding, so tonight was—
Well, dang. It was more exciting than it should be.
Which wasn’t good. Perhaps he wasn’t exactly rabid with sharp teeth or a beak—but he was a danger to her nonetheless. Instinctively she knew that if she let Jonah close, he wouldn’t be easy to shake. And she simply didn’t want or need the complication of a man in her life. Never would.
Jonah hit save, transferred the file he’d been working on, and powered down the printers. He grabbed a box and shoved in the postcards he’d made and the new stickers he’d printed to adhere to the back of all his art.
He swore under his breath the whole time. He’d gotten too comfortable, too complacent. A few weeks ago, he had received his first order on Etsy—at which point he’d realized he had left all the packing and shipping supplies at the shop. The next time he’d slipped in after hours, it was because he’d needed some files stored only on the hard drive. Then one night he’d been desperate to use the canvas printer to start restocking what had become skimpy displays post-holidays at the shops he’d been consigning with. Working at his mom’s was unproductive and extremely limited, and the next thing he knew, he’d practically reversed his schedule, working most nights for at least a few hours in secret in the storage room that he had no rights to.
He knew damn well that he should have begged Kalpani to ask her contractor if it was okay, since the renovation was further along. But he didn’t want to risk being told no. The ability to access his equipment was too damn tempting. Hell, it was necessary. How could he make enough of a living to commit to one of these overpriced studio spaces if he couldn’t even produce?
Jonah snatched up his laptop and powered down the computer. He looked around. What else did he need if he wasn’t coming back?
He didn’t think Kalpani had noticed, but he’d blocked the window with a big piece of cardboard. He didn’t want some well-meaning neighbor to call the police or even Kalpani’s contractor. He pulled it down and stuck it behind a bunch of stacked items. Jonah was about to hit the switch when he saw his thermos of coffee. He grabbed it and shoved it down into the box. Kalpani could be downstairs right now putting two and two together, and he didn’t want to give her any more ammunition than necessary.
Kalpani—both a welcome and unwelcome sight. He desperately wished she hadn’t caught him here—he had so much work still to do—and yet, damn, was she something, a tiny sprite raising that broom like a warrior woman.
Jonah headed down the stairs with his box. Kalpani stood, arms crossed over her front, in the middle of the main room.
“Sorry about scaring you,” he said.
“Sorry about nearly maiming you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You doubt me? Those bristles would have done some damage.”
“You, I would never doubt.” He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure you’ll succeed at anything you put your mind to, including maiming.”
She ducked her head.
“I’m serious. Look at this place.” He waved his free arm. “It’s your dream, coming to life.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”
His heart actually skipped a beat.
“Want to see my cabinets?”
He set his box on the floor. “Sure.” He wanted to see anything she wanted to show him, to stay in her presence as long as possible.
She walked around some waist-high boxes, and he followed. She waved her hand with a flourish at one with the wrapping spread open.
“Nice.” He was standing so close that he could smell her. Something citrusy and a slight chemical scent. She’d come from work, he was sure. “What color are you doing the walls?”
“Gray. Purple and red accents. Tire-tread metal kick plates in front of each stylist’s station. Mirrors above, of course. It needs to look hip and cool, but also a little rich and lush.”
He smiled. “I can see it. Good choices.”
“I hope so.” She smoothed one hand over the back of the other and then reversed the action. “It’s all ordered. No going back now.”
He turned to her. “No need. You’re on your way.” The urge to reach for her, reassure her with his touch, was nearly overpowering.
“What about you? I saw your art in a couple of windows.”
Jonah drew a tight breath. She was so short that whenever she spoke to him, it seemed like she was tilting her lips up as an offering. “A fair amount of the holiday art sold, which is cool. But consigning sucks.”
Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows.
He shrugged. “They take a cut and I don’t get that much space. Had to r
aise my prices to compensate. And, of course, post-holiday sales are down.”
“I guess that’s no surprise,” she said. “But your stuff is really cool. I can see both locals and visitors buying it.”
He nodded. “That’s true, given the people that used to come in off the street to ask about it.”
“You’ll get there,” she said. She looked like she wanted to say more but didn’t.
“I’m trying.” They still stood face to face, only about a foot apart. Too close for strangers, too far for a man and a woman who had shared kisses and a magical night under the stars.
Even now, the air felt charged. Jonah was sure she felt it too—her eyes practically reached for him.
“So…” She pulled her hair over one shoulder. “I guess I’ll be seeing you at the wedding.”
“Yeah, good news, right?”
“The best,” she said. “I’m glad they came out the other side of that mess.”
“Me too,” he said. “They seem…meant to be.”
“I hope so,” she said, but a shadow crossed her face.
He frowned. “You aren’t worried, are you? Jeremy’s a good guy—the best.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just— Nothing. I’m sure those two will be very happy. Darcy already is.”
“Jeremy, too.” He bent and grabbed his box. “I’d better go.”
“I should, too,” she said. They walked toward the back, and she flipped the lights off behind them.
“You want me to walk you to your car? Since you aren’t taking the broom?”
She smiled. “I’m right out back.”
They stepped out into the night, and both got out their keys to lock the back door. Jonah bowed slightly and stepped back. It was Kalpani’s to lock up. He shouldn’t even still have a key, but he shoved it back in his pocket anyway.
He looked up between the buildings at the night sky.
Kalpani stood shoulder to shoulder with him. “It’s quiet down here tonight.”
“Surprising for a Thursday.” His voice was tight, and he realized he was struggling not to express any emotion. But inside? He was a mess of them. It felt like he wasn’t only losing the space but losing the connection with Sohel. And he longed to haul the new owner into his arms and kiss her for all he was worth.
Maybe that showed in his eyes, because she looked up at him—those lips—and then away quickly. She hit a button on her key fob and lights flashed from her car. She walked away, waving over her shoulder.
“See you in True Springs,” she said.
“See you in True Springs,” he said softly.
A whole weekend of seeing Kalpani was something to look forward to. Not all was lost.
10
Two weeks later
Saturday, February 8th
Kalpani would meet Darcy later for the usual Saturday yoga and breakfast, then she had a full day of clients, but the first order of business was Xanadu. She wanted to check on the progress and arrived bright and early. She let herself in the back door, then set her coffee on the counter. Her counters.
She smiled and spun around, taking it all in. The floors were in, and the cabinets and counters and reception desk had all been installed, right along with the sinks where they’d shampoo hair or rinse out color.
The chairs were next. Kalpani couldn’t help the big grin that she wore—her salon was actually looking like a salon now instead of a shell of a space.
She headed up the back stairs, wondering if they’d completed the flooring up there as well. The contractor had mentioned he’d need to move Jonah’s things, and she hoped he’d been considerate and not dumped them haphazardly.
As soon as she reached the top, she saw light spilling from Jonah’s storage room.
She narrowed her eyes and crept forward. Had Jonah snuck in again?
She peeked cautiously around the doorway—expecting him to jump up and scare her again, even though this time she was prepared. But no.
Jonah was head down, arm pillowing his head, fast asleep. She could hear him breathing deeply. He was still overly scruffy, but wow was he beautiful. The hard cheekbones and strong nose were still there, but the fan of dark lashes and the relaxed lips softened the whole.
She put her hands on her hips and shook her head—annoyed that she had such a strong urge to touch him, upset that he’d used a key he shouldn’t have—again. He no longer lived here or worked here. The building had a new owner, for goodness’ sake—her. And her contractor had expressly said he hadn’t wanted the liability of anyone in the building. Jonah knew that.
She felt herself getting worked up, and she glared at his sleeping form.
A stack of business cards caught her eye. She could read them from here: a website address, an Etsy address. There were flyers, too—a gallery show downtown—featuring Jonah along with a few other artists.
Good for him. The big screen on the desk was lit up, and she moved into the room a little further to see what was on it. It was blown up big and she couldn’t see it all, but bold colors—purples and reds—flowed into a swirl. It was stunning.
Kalpani frowned. On the desk was an open laptop, an insulated to-go mug, and a pack of cinnamon gum. Jonah hadn’t budged, not even a change of breathing, since she’d walked in here. The man was exhausted.
And it hit her—he hadn’t just snuck in tonight. He’d totally disregarded her contractor’s wishes not just once or twice. This was a regular thing…
Because he needed these machines, because he was working hard to create and sell art through the setback of losing his storefront display and workspace.
Kalpani winced, and the anger that had been building inside her dissipated as quickly as if she’d popped a balloon.
Of all people, Kalpani understood pushing toward a dream and working hard toward future goals. She respected someone who forged ahead despite obstacles—even harder when there were obstacles, finding a path around them. Hell, hadn’t she done the very same in securing this building for herself?
Kalpani took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
She could only assume he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, that he’d meant to leave as secretly as he came well before sunrise. Ever so quietly, she reached into her bag and pulled out the granola bar and banana she’d brought to get her through hot yoga. The power bar’s wrapper crinkled loudly, and she froze, but Jonah didn’t even flinch.
Carefully, she placed them on the desk next to Jonah’s elbow. She reached to smooth back his hair but snatched her hand back just in time. What is with me? she wondered, as she crept out of the room and downstairs.
She wasn’t sure if the contractor or his subs would be in this morning, but she’d call Lou from her car. Surely the renovation was no longer dangerous. If he was okay with it, she’d let Lou know she’d like for Jonah to be able to come and go. She might as well take the pressure off, since this surely wouldn’t be the last time he snuck in.
She left her purse on the counter, trading it for her coffee cup, then moved to the front windows, which were taped over with brown paper. There was a tear, and she watched as the Strip began to come alive. A dad with two small children in a stroller walked past, likely to one of the diners, maybe letting Mom sleep in. A couple walked past with reusable shopping bags. They’d probably hit the fish or meat markets before the crowds descended and then get breakfast. The oversized metal door of a business across Penn Ave rose with a rush of noise, and another owner twisted a key in the lock and shouldered her door open.
Kalpani couldn’t wait to be a part of this community and open her own doors to clients.
She looked at the ceiling and took another deep breath. New doors were on order for the salon, but for now she found herself strangely glad that Jonah’s key still worked. Losing the shop had to have set him back, and she wanted to help him succeed.
She shook her head at herself. What was it about Jonah that made her say yes, when she should be saying no?
11
Nearl
y one week later
Friday February 14th, Valentine’s Day
Jonah hadn’t expected to see Kalpani again until he arrived in True Springs—but there she was standing on the side of the highway, phone pressed to her ear with one hand, the other on her hip, and her hair blowing wildly despite her knit cap. She always looked like a woman who could take on the world—but apparently, she couldn’t solve smoke pouring out of her little SUV’s hood.
Jonah quickly moved into the right lane, then slowed enough to pull off the highway. Carefully, he reversed.
Kalpani spotted his car and moved to the rear of hers. She crossed her arms, even as she remained on the phone. She’d never seen his vehicle and assumed he was a total stranger. He should probably be glad she was holding her phone and not another broom.
He climbed out and waved even as he pulled on his winter jacket. She looked wary—as she should. There were no houses in sight, and he’d guess they were at least ten miles to an exit in either direction.
He saw her relax as soon as he got close enough for her to realize who he was.
“Trouble, huh?”
“Obviously.” She threw out her hands. Then she shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just so flipping annoyed. I just had it serviced. And I was nearly there. This couldn’t have waited?”
She was right—True Springs was only another couple of exits. “Did you call AAA?”
She heaved out a big breath. “I called a while ago. They should be here in about ten minutes. I don’t suppose you are handy with cars?”
“Only if you need a flat tire changed. Or maybe”—he tilted his head—“if you wanted some cool design for detailing.”
She shook her head, too miserable to even crack a smile. He walked to his car, opened the passenger side door, and retrieved his own winter hat and two bottles of water. It was cold here on the side of the highway with the cars rushing past, upping the wind factor.
He handed her a water bottle, then gestured to the guardrail about eight feet away. “How about we get off the berm?”