by Alexa J. Day
Chapter 5
The dreams were part of his life now. Sometimes they were just about the endless heat and the seas of sand that got into everything. The sun blazed bright and merciless in the dreams. But in that bright sunlight, hazards lay hidden, waiting for vehicles or men on watch or passersby to appear at the wrong time. In the dreams, he never encountered these dangers himself. His job was to send other people into these wrong places at the wrong times.
They would run afoul of snipers because of him. Explosives would rip them limb from limb because of him. They would go to places he believed to be safe, and they would disappear there because he was wrong. All these things happened in the dreams. If he was having a bad night, they'd happen a few times.
Tonight was not one of the bad nights. He awoke suddenly, sucking in a breath, from a dream of sand that defied his efforts to remove it. He pushed and pushed at it with a broad broom, only to have it slide in behind him. Before long, it buried the broom and sucked it away. Then it buried him up to the chest. It filled his mouth and crushed him like an empty can.
Now he was here. Birds sang beyond the heavy drapes. An air-conditioned breeze traversed the bed, where he was surrounded by pillows and soft sheets. The scent of berries and pine hung in the air.
Gigi. He was at Gigi's.
She stirred beside him, still asleep. Her long body made a sensuous curve beneath the sheets, which rose and fell with her deep, sighing breaths. He was glad he hadn't awakened her, and not just because he got to watch her sleep. She'd slept through his nightmare, and so he didn't have to go into them with her. They'd started to get better lately, anyway. Maybe being near the water was agreeing with him.
Maybe it was the job. After hours of bending his back with kegs and ice and glasses and the occasional pain in the ass who needed an express route to the door, he had fewer dreams about sand, guilt, and good people dying. The boat, which would be just as hard, without the structure of regular hours, would be even better for him.
He squinted at Gigi's clock, clear across the room from the bed, until the numbers came into focus. Outside, morning rush hour would be in full swing. If he left now, he could get back home in time to mow Miss Ruby Jean's lawn before it got too hot. Then maybe he could get some more sleep before he picked Gigi up for work.
He eased away from her, moving toward the edge of the bed. Quietly, he gathered his clothes and dressed before arranging the tangled sheets on his side of the bed. He caught a glimpse of her, still sleeping, and stopped to watch her. Her features, relaxed in slumber, entranced him. She looked so peaceful, this woman who drove him so hard in bed and out.
The thought made him smile. He did that. He gave her peace and pleasure and rest.
I did that.
He carried his boots out to the living room and set them by the front door before searching for a scrap of paper. He finally found one in the kitchen—one of those coupons the grocery store gave you at checkout—and dashed off a note with the felt tip pen from her dry erase board. He returned to the bedroom to leave the note under her alarm clock, where he knew she would see it.
Then he slipped out, still smiling.
The clock's shrieking jolted Gigi awake. Her first disorganized thoughts were of how far away the clock was and how important it was to get to it quickly before it woke Noah up, too.
She sat up in an empty bed.
Wait.
She stared at the place where he had been and found the sheets in only mild disarray. Of course, he'd tried to tuck her back in. In fact, he was probably still here somewhere.
The alarm's volume slowly rose. She looked around, sleep-addled, half-expecting him to pop out of a hiding place or come down the hall to silence the clock.
Nothing.
Damn. Really?
She slid clumsily out of bed and struggled into her robe before wandering over to turn off the clock. How had this happened? How could she have been so wrong about him, after everything they'd talked about?
She wanted to do something stupid and immature, like throw that fucking clock at the wall to watch it shatter. But control was more important. She wouldn't let him—
A strip of paper was peeking out from under the clock. Thick black letters filled it, along with a phone number. She pulled the paper slip out and read the message.
Had to leave. Chores for landlady. Call me for ride to work.
Gigi's anger melted away. Of course he hadn't just run out on her. Her skin warmed with embarrassment… and something else.
He'd been thoughtful. He didn't have to tell her all this.
Really? A second ago, you were ready to kill him.
She had been. Damn. Two nights together and she was trying to put the man on lockdown. She'd only brought him in here to try to get him and her reaction to him under control, not to escalate things into bed. Definitely not to start acting like she was entitled to anything of his.
She read the note again. Leave it to Noah to do more than he had to. Her earlier response shamed her all the more deeply.
What had made her do that? Was she so accustomed to lesser men that her reflex was to judge him by that standard? Or was she so attached to Noah that the slightest misstep, even the imaginary ones, would set her off?
This was why he was dangerous. This was why she had to start backing away from him now, when her very being longed to be closer to him.
She carried the note back to bed and sat down. Getting attached to Noah was not a good idea. She'd known that when she hired him, she'd known it when she rode him that night on the patio, and she thought she knew it now. She'd gone into this with her eyes open, and he'd been upfront about his intentions, too.
He was going to Florida. Soon. And as much as she hated to see him go, she was going to have to live with it.
She looked down at the note. Call me for ride to work.
Too bad she couldn't take him up on his offer. She needed to pick up some supplies, and she'd need Heather's car for that, probably before he was done dealing with his landlady. She also needed to start separating herself from him before it became too difficult to do. Still, it was sweet of him to offer.
She shook her head and chuckled. Noah's sweet.
She grabbed her phone from the charger to call Heather. Maybe she could catch her before she left home.
The sound of the Volvo's horn sucked Gigi back to her childhood. Carpooling made her feel like a little girl again. She jogged down the driveway to Heather's station wagon and saw that Bruce was in the passenger seat. She slid into the back seat through the rear door.
She buckled up as they pulled off. "Thanks for the lift."
"No problem," said Heather. "I just have to drop this guy off first."
Gigi yawned. "How you doing, Bruce?"
He looked over his shoulder at her, an amused smile on his face. "Not as sleepy as you, but okay."
She tried to silence him with her expression, but it was too late. He and Heather were a team, and she readily picked up where he left off.
"Is she sleepy?" Heather asked. She met Gigi's eyes in the rearview. "Oh, yes, I think she is, isn't she?"
"Oh, my God," muttered Gigi.
"Well, that's good," said Bruce. He looked out at the street ahead of them. "Been too long since someone came along and made you sleepy. You deserve it."
He and Heather giggled from the front seat. As annoyed as she was with the two of them, Gigi couldn't help but chuckle along with them.
Heather dropped her husband off at the high school with a kiss to fortify him against the summer students. Gigi let herself out and walked around the car to take the seat he'd vacated. The Volvo pulled back into traffic.
Heather looked over at the clock in the dashboard. "We have a little time. You want to make the supply run now?"
Gigi looked at her watch as if it would conflict with the dashboard clock. "We could. Might be easier to get the car towed when we get back."
"Yeah." The brakes squeaked softly as they came to a stop
for a red light. The engine warbled into the silence between them before Heather finally spoke again. "So, you were just not going to tell me you were sleeping with Noah. You weren't, were you?"
Gigi looked up to find her friend grinning at her.
"You say that like it's some longstanding thing that we're doing."
"It's been going on since the Fourth, hasn't it?"
"No. It hasn't." Gigi gestured at the green light.
Heather led the Volvo onto the on ramp and sped onto the interstate. "I don't know. I feel like you two have been a little weird with each other since the Fourth."
Gigi laughed. "I'm sorry, why do you need to know again?"
"Because I'm your friend and your day manager and I need to know what's going on with my staff."
"Well, Noah is my staff." She cut off Heather's gasp of playful protest. "He's only working happy hour; he isn't day shift."
"I still need to know. I need to know what's affecting management. You heard Bruce. You're exhausted."
"Bruce said I was sleepy."
Heather held up her hand. "My point is, you weren't going to tell me that you and Noah were sleeping together."
Gigi took a second with the question.
"See, this is a yes or no question," Heather said.
"I didn't think that we would actually be sleeping together," Gigi said.
"What does that mean? Is that yes?"
"Yes." Gigi laughed. This felt more like high school than when she'd gotten into the car. "Okay? We've… been together twice."
"Just twice?"
"Yes. It's not a thing. It's just something that happened."
"And then happened again." Heather took the off ramp and all but ran the last red light on the way to the restaurant supply house.
"And then happened again," Gigi repeated.
Heather nodded. "You know, he could have given you a ride."
"But then I would miss this lovely conversation with you."
Heather found a space in the empty parking lot a little farther away from the door than Gigi would have preferred. "I'm just saying that he could have driven you back to the car this morning. Or back from the mechanic. Or both."
Gigi shook her head. "He has things to do this morning aside from driving me around." She got out of the car and waited for Heather to follow. "And like I said, we are not a thing. That's something people in a relationship do. Noah and I are not in a relationship."
"Not like you and I," said Heather. She tried to keep a straight face for as long as she could.
Gigi extended her middle finger, hoping to end this conversation. "I need to be here, anyway. I still have to buy party stuff."
"I see. You don't want to talk about this anymore." Heather shook her head. "Used to be we would talk about stuff like this."
"Live in the present, my friend."
"Okay. I just have one more question, then."
The doors slid open, and a blast of air conditioned goodness enveloped Gigi. She turned to face her friend.
"He's going to stay now, right?"
Gigi waved a dismissive hand at Heather and went to grab a flatbed cart.
Chapter 6
Gigi pulled into her parking lot with two brand new tires and an impressive hole in her bank balance. The mechanics had pulled six of those metal screws out of her tires. They rattled in the cup holder as she drove, strengthening her resolve to speak to the contractors the next time she saw them.
Just as her annoyance began to smolder anew, her mental review of the day's events put her back in Noah's truck, warm breeze in her hair as they rode through her neighborhood to her house. The memory of his body twisting beneath hers as she tickled him made her breathe easier. Maybe all was well that ended well. That thought would keep her warm long after he made his way to Florida.
She backed into an unfamiliar parking spot near the edge of the gravel lot. She'd need to deal with the screws somehow before Heather's party. She could block the space off with a cone or put the grill in that spot, if it wasn't too close to the Dumpster. Unless Noah had already come up with a way to get rid of them.
She was out of the car before she noticed his truck was not in its usual space. Very odd. His shift started with hers, and when she arrived a few minutes early, she typically found him here, already working.
She pulled the screen door open, shaking her head. He'd spoiled her. He wouldn't actually be late for some time yet. He was likely still running errands for his landlady. She'd have to stop holding him to these crazy standards.
She went down the hallway to the bar, greeting her regulars in their usual booth as she went. The contractors from next door sat together at the center of the bar. Just the men she wanted to see.
She shouldered in between two of them. "You gentlemen lose something in the parking lot the other day?"
They nodded sheepishly. One of them apologized. "Heather said you lost two tires," he said.
"Yes, I did. I said a lot of unpleasant words when I found out."
"Well, the person who dropped the box has been punished," he said, pointing at one of his colleagues.
Gigi looked at him. "Were you punished?"
He flushed red. "Yeah. I had to get on my hands and knees in the parking lot this morning and pick them up."
That hardly sounded like sufficient punishment to Gigi. She'd have made him use his teeth. But all the contractors erupted into peals of laughter.
"Good. I hope for your sake you got them all," she said.
"If he didn't, you know where to find me." The contractor winked at her, and Gigi nodded her approval. In another time, she might have flirted more with the guy; the sun had left him with a deep tan that made his blue eyes all the more striking.
But tonight, she was looking for Noah.
She went behind the bar to join Heather, who was shaking a Long Island iced tea for a customer at the end of the bar. A quick look around confirmed that Noah wasn't here; the supply of clean glasses on the back bar was shorter than usual.
Heather beat Gigi to the question. "You know where Noah is?" she asked, with just a trace of the mischief Gigi had started to expect.
"I was going to ask you."
Heather strained the drink into a glass full of ice and topped it with Coke until it attained the proper color. She glanced at her watch before reaching for a straw.
"I guess it's not late yet." Heather chuckled and delivered the drink. "Maybe he's sleepy, too."
Gigi pulled her usual glass of ice water a little more slowly than usual, shifting carefully around her friend as she reached for bottles, glasses and ice. Then she headed back to the office, where the last of the party phone calls and her usual paperwork awaited her. She knew she was stalling.
September will feel like this. Looking around for him all the time and not finding him.
Gigi settled into her office chair with her iPad and pulled up her list of phone numbers for the party. Heather's family was coming, along with a handful of regulars who had been there as long as she had. Her uncle's motorcycle club, the Red Rovers, would stop there in town for the night on the way back from Florida. She made her last round of preparatory calls, making sure everyone knew to bring their own beverages and something extra to go with the pig on the big grill they'd rented.
By the time she finished party planning, almost an hour had gone by. Now Noah was late. She headed back into the bar and found Heather hauling her own ice. She frowned at her day manager, who shrugged as best she could with her hands full.
How strange. He was probably in traffic or something. She couldn't imagine why he wouldn't call. It wasn't grounds for panic, but at the same time, she knew Heather was only still here to cover for him until the end of happy hour.
She went back to her office and pulled up the staff directory on her iPad. She'd dialed about half of his number when the screen door slammed.
Gigi looked up in time to see Noah charge into her office. To his credit, he didn't quite slam the door, but the
firm way he shut it and the tinge of red that stained his cheekbones got her attention quick. She opened her mouth to ask what had gotten him tied up and say that she was glad to see him.
"You saw the note," he said.
She needed a second to make the connection. "Yeah. Tha—"
"And so you didn't call?" His voice was taut.
"Well, no." She knitted her fingers together. "I got a ride with Heather."
He was silent for a moment. She watched the muscle in his jaw work, and he looked down at the floor beside her desk. She noticed her own fingers flexing against each other and forced herself to stop. She didn't know what had set him off, but she was sure she'd had nothing to do with it.
"So that's it?" he asked.
She frowned. "What's it?"
He came toward the desk in two long strides. Then he backed away, grabbing his hips. "Gigi, what am I to you?"
At least she wasn't confused about his tone.
She resorted to a de-escalation technique her father had taught her as a trainee bartender and repeated his question, slowly. "What are you to me?"
He nodded sharply. "Yeah. What am I? Employee? Barback with benefits?"
So much for de-escalation. "What the fuck are you talking about? The note said to call if I needed a ride. I didn't. I came in with Heather." Her face prickled. "You weren't waiting around for that, were you?"
"You were supposed to call me. I went home to mow the lawn, which turned into God knows how many other things, but when I finally went back to bed, I knew you would call later and wake me up."
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." She sighed. "I went and called Heather instead. But look, it's no big deal. It's not like you blew off the whole shift."
His back stiffened. "No, see, it is a big deal. You were supposed to call me."
Gigi tightened her grip on her own fingers, partly to keep from getting up. She took a deep breath.
"I want to be sure I'm hearing you correctly. You're not mad because I didn't wake you up. You're mad because I called someone other than you. Is that really what you're saying?"