Tempting Fate

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Tempting Fate Page 9

by Brinda Berry


  “Are you avoiding my question? I think she wanted to have lunch.”

  I study my watch. “No, bro. Five and a half minutes.”

  “Will she be around the house? I’ll come back for her.”

  I sigh and relax, leaning against the wall. “I don’t care what she does, but she won’t be here. I’m taking her to Mal’s.”

  “Time, man, watch the time,” Jordy says, leaning in to see my watch.

  “Six minutes.”

  The door swings wide. “Ready,” Veronica says. She’s fresh-faced and smells of my soap. I visualize her rubbing my bar of soap over her body and the image tightens my skin.

  Her damp hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. There’s some color on her lips, a pale pink making them look impossibly plump. She wears a black, fitted T-shirt and skinny jeans. Nothing special. But both mold to her curves in a loving package.

  I take in everything in one second of pure lust. It’s more eye candy than watching a Victoria’s Secret show.

  Jordy finally speaks after what has to be a full minute. “You’re like a guy in disguise.”

  “Excuse me?” she says with a grin. She doesn’t seem to take offense to what I consider a drastic insult.

  Jordy’s mouth twists into a wry smile. “I can’t even take a shower in six minutes.”

  “That’s ‘cause you’re doing other things,” she says without missing a beat. “I know all about guys. Remember, I have a brother.”

  “Maybe he’s not as cute as you,” I say. “Takes more time for him to look this good.”

  Jordy puffs his chest out, peacock style. “It’s worth every minute.”

  “Is there a reason for congregating in the hall? Here?” She pointedly looks around. “You guys need something?”

  “Oh yeah,” Jordy says. “Thought we’d grab lunch, but he says you’ll be gone. We’ll do it another time.”

  “Ah, how sweet of you,” she says. “Rain check.” She strolls to the stairs, leaving me staring at Jordy.

  “Got a second?” I ask Jordy as Veronica walks downstairs.

  “What’s up?” He folds his arms across his chest.

  “You should leave her alone.” I keep my tone non-threatening, friendly, brotherly.

  “I’m just talking. That’s all.” Jordy shakes his head. “She’s fun.”

  His ‘fun’ comment scrapes my nerves. “How many girls have you brought here in the last six months?”

  “More than you.” He lifts one eyebrow.

  “Exactly. She’s off-limits.”

  “Man, you better think twice before you throw down the gauntlet.”

  “I’m not throwing down anything. I just think you should back the hell off. She’s a sweet girl.” My temper seeps out and there’s no pulling it back in.

  “If you’re interested in her, be interested. If you’re not, don’t tell me who I can be friends with.”

  “Jordy,” I corral my urge to spit out the words. Calm. “You’ve never been friends with a girl. You bring them here, you fool around for a few days, you find another girl. End of story.”

  “You have it bad for her.” He places a hand on my shoulder, and I shrug it off. “It’s only been a couple of days. And she’s leaving soon … or that’s what she told me. Don’t get tied up in something temporary.”

  I back away and turn to the stairs. “You’re a moron. I’m trying to protect an innocent girl from my lecherous roommate.” My tone lightens. “Maybe you’re the one who has it bad already. Begging to take her to lunch. Leave her alone.”

  “She’s a grown woman.” Jordy throws a careless wave into the air, his back to me and his interest in the conversation gone.

  The conversation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Jordy’s far too flippant and he’s got a predator’s glint in his eye. I’ll be damned if he acts on it.

  I’m convinced he has an angle with her. The I’m-as-harmless-as-your-BFF angle.

  I meet Veronica in the kitchen with her head in the refrigerator. “Go ahead,” I say when she pulls back.

  “Thanks.” She grabs a cold hotdog from the fridge and makes for the door.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Not really. Affordable protein.” Her wide smile reaches her eyes. She appears to be excited about going to work. She grabs a napkin and beats me to the car, settling into the passenger seat in seconds. We drive in companionable silence for the twenty minutes it takes to get to Mal’s place.

  I find myself again comparing her to Raquel and the non-stop chatter every time we were in a car together. This girl makes me want her to talk. To let me know who she is.

  I pull into the circle drive as Ace is pulling out.

  Veronica presses the button to lower her glass. “Hi.”

  He stops and rolls down the window of his truck. “Morning.”

  I lean toward Veronica and the open window. “Mal expecting us this early?”

  “She’s already in the office. I think she’s excited to get started. I’ll be back later.” Ace gives a wave, rolls up his window, and drives off.

  “He probably has class,” I say.

  “Oh. So he’s in college?”

  “Uh-hmm. SLU.”

  “Where?”

  “Saint Louis University.”

  She glances at the main house in front of us. “Who lives there?”

  “No one.” I don’t answer that Mal owns all the property. This is a topic for Mal to disclose if she wants people to know.

  Veronica opens the door and steps out. She glances around uncomfortably before leaning down to make eye contact. “Do you think you could come back for me?”

  Did she think I was going to have her hitch a ride back? I’m uncomfortable with the slam of panic the thought causes me. She doesn’t know to rely on me for help. “Of course I will.”

  I grab one of my business cards from the console and write my number on the back. “Here.”

  Relief lightens her face. She takes my card and closes the door.

  * * *

  “How was your day?” Veronica says as she gets into the car at Malerie’s.

  My day? It’s stretched longer than a woman’s memory of a fight. All day, I kept imagining Veronica. Veronica with her smile, all teeth and heart. Veronica pushing her hair out of her face. Veronica leaning over something and those jeans stretching tight across her ass.

  Lord, she’s like a billboard image I can’t get out of my head.

  “It was okay. Long. Boring.” I toss a sidelong glance at Veronica, who has this stare out the front windshield that’s too pensive.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  Her head snaps up, tendrils of hair falling loose onto her face. “What did you say?”

  “Malerie work you too hard?”

  “No.” She pauses, staring straight ahead. “I did everything she asked. No problem. It was easy stuff.”

  She’s silent again and I don’t push her to tell me what’s on her mind. We’re almost home when she finally says, “I thought she really needed my help. And maybe she did. But it’s obvious she feels sorry for me. You were right when you said it yesterday.”

  Her sad, lost tone rips at my heart. “I shouldn’t have said it. It was a stupid—”

  “No. You were right.” She turns to me, anger flashing in her beautiful eyes. “Do you know how much she tried to pay me?”

  I shrug. “You worked all day. I don’t know.”

  “Take a guess.” She shoves the loose hair from her face.

  “Hundred bucks.”

  “Ha!” Her laugh is derisive, incredulous, and pissed all rolled into one ball of hurt. “Three hundred dollars. For basic secretarial stuff. I wouldn’t take it. I’m not a charity case.”

  “You didn’t take her money? I bet Mal is not happy with you.” I fight the amused tug at the corner of my mouth.

  “I took one hundred and left the rest on her table. I’ll earn my pay. I only need enough to buy a bus ticket and some money until I find a real j
ob.” She looks back out her window.

  “I’m sure she wanted you to have it.”

  “Humph.” The sound from Veronica tells me she won’t be taking the rest of what she’s earned. “Can we not talk about this? It makes my eye twitch.” She places her left hand near her eye.

  “Hey, don’t get stressed.” We pull into the driveway and into the garage. “I have an idea.”

  She opens her door and hesitates, one foot on the concrete. “I’m listening.”

  “We should head out to the lake. Relax.”

  She eyes me skeptically. “Only you and me?”

  “Yeah. Is that a problem? Unless I need to round up some people.”

  “No. Don’t. Actually … it sounds nice.”

  “Good. Change and meet me back at the car in a few minutes.”

  Ten minutes later, I’m back at the car with an ice chest. Veronica is already seated and buckled up. She’s wearing the T-shirt and athletic shorts I lent her the other day. It bothers me to realize she doesn’t have a lot of clothes in her duffle bag, which is a stupid thought.

  “Could you stop at a store?” Veronica leans her head back on the seat. The tension I saw earlier is disappearing and I’m glad.

  I nod and back out of the driveway. “Any place in particular?”

  “Gas station will do.”

  An unfamiliar ringtone catches me off guard and Veronica rummages through the small change purse I hadn’t noticed she carried. She pulls out her phone and studies the display with a worried frown. It’s a cheap phone, one of those I’d use if I lost mine for the day. The kind you see in a discount store.

  The phone continues to ring.

  “Aren’t you going to answer?” I’m curious about the call, the caller, and her hesitation to speak to someone with me as an audience.

  She shrugs and returns it to her purse. “No.”

  And the tension is back, just like that.

  “You should program my number in and give me yours.”

  “Maybe later,” she says. “How far is the lake?”

  “Half hour.” She’s driving me nuts with her secretive attitude. I understand that something has happened to her, but I can help. I want to help.

  I stop at a gas station and watch her run inside. She returns with a bag. “Thanks. Needed some girl things.”

  I should’ve realized she’d need something, even if just for a few days.

  We talk about her day with Malerie and about the podcast, Rock Universe. She’s learned a lot today from organizing the podcast emails and organizing receipts into folders. Malerie even asked her to evaluate some web ads we created.

  The lake crowd is thin, only really busy on the weekends when people bring in boats and campers. I pull into a camping area and find a parking spot at the marina. I ask her to wait and leave the car running as I run into the marina.

  When I return, she’s unbuckled and sitting with her bare feet on the seat and knees pulled up close, her eyes shut, and a lazy arm hanging outside the open window.

  “Why’d you shut the engine off?” I ask.

  “Wastes gas,” she answers.

  Her world is a strange one to me. I’d leave a car running for half an hour if I pleased. “Come on. I rented a boat.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “For us?”

  “It’s not a big deal.” For some reason, I feel a need to reassure her. “I got a cheap rate. I do some web work for these guys.”

  This seems to satisfy her. She’s all smiles and teeth, a huge difference from her expression earlier.

  We walk to the boat slip, and her steps falter. “I’ve never been on one of these.”

  It’s a ski boat, midsize but powerful. “It’ll be fun.” I’m digging the fact I get to show her some fun. It would be more fun if I could see her in the bikini that made the tan lines I glimpsed the other day.

  Think with the big head, man.

  “All aboard. Step here.” I stand behind her, studying the yellow tinge around the bruises on the back of her forearms. The hand imprint is a faint mark of fingers almost gone.

  I need to know.

  She sits perched at the edge of the seat, like a kid about to embark on some adventure. “Is it like driving a car?”

  “Sort of,” I answer. I’ve stowed the cooler and given her a life jacket. The engine sputters before coming to life and I back out of the slip slowly. As soon as we get past the buoys, I increase the speed, throwing sidelong glances her way to make sure she’s okay with it.

  The wind whips her hair back and I can feel both our worries falling away with the receding shoreline.

  “Will it go faster?” she yells.

  I answer with a devious grin.

  The boat accelerates and we bump along on the water, the sun shimmering on the blue expanse in front of us. Veronica’s hair streams behind her. Her face is upturned, pure joy written across her features. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I love looking at her.

  I feel guilty for a second. Guilty I’d never been as mesmerized with Raquel, the woman I’d planned to love for the rest of my life. Raquel is a lot of things—smart, witty, organized. She’d put on a short skirt and high heels, pull her dark hair into a twist, and she’d rule the room she entered. If anything, Raquel is sexy because she is so successful, so put together, so ready to take on any challenge. Too bad her biggest challenge involved fooling me while she fooled around.

  I’ve only known Veronica a couple of days and I know I have to get her to trust me. There’s an undeniable chemistry between us.

  I locate a cove and steer the boat near the shore so we can drop anchor. Her eyes are on me, taking in every move I make.

  “Can I help?” she asks.

  “Got this part under control,” I say. “I brought some stuff in the cooler. It’s back there. Want to get some things out for us?”

  She’s out of her seat in an instant and opening the cooler. Her muted sounds of oh and ah and umm bring a smile to my face, which she can’t see. I can’t imagine another female being so thrilled over snacks thrown in a cooler.

  Maybe my world has been filled with high-maintenance and low-morality women.

  A breeze blows hair across her face. I lean in and brush it out of her eyes as she hands me a bottled water. Her hair is soft and baby fine. I love the texture and it makes me want to wind the strands around my hand and pull her to me.

  I sit back in the captain’s chair with my drink. She pulls the cooler closer and uses the lid as a makeshift table. She arranges the grapes and cheese cubes on a plastic plate I stuck in the cooler.

  “I bet you’re a great boyfriend,” she says. “Forgive me for saying this, but your ex must’ve been out-of-her-mind stupid.”

  “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” I smirk and pop a grape into my mouth. “You have an ex in the picture? A stupid out-of-his-mind ex?”

  She pauses halfway to the grapes and drops her hand. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. You said you weren’t doing relationships. Makes sense to me that you’ve been burned.”

  Veronica rubs one finger lightly along her bottom lip. Back and forth, back and forth, like she’s rubbing out a stain. “We’re going there, aren’t we?”

  “Why not? I won’t judge.”

  “He was a guy I thought I knew and didn’t really … you know. You have this idea about someone from the way the person dresses and talks? But he wasn’t what I thought. End of story.”

  “That bad, huh.”

  “How did this conversation move to me?” She picks up a grape and bites into half. Studies it. Her gaze flits to mine.

  “You’re the most interesting person in this boat.”

  “Right,” she says with a smirk. “I want to know about your tattoo.”

  I glance down self-consciously. “What about it?”

  She pops the rest of her grape between those gorgeous pink lips. “For starters,” she says as she takes my hand and examines the tat running up my wrist a
nd turns her head to read the script. “This is cryptic. ‘Arsenic love, my poison, my drug.’”

  I shrug, not sure if I should explain.

  She blows out a heavy breath. “Gloomy stuff there on your arm. You always so dark?”

  “It’s a Jelly Bean Queen song. You don’t know it?”

  “I guess not.” One corner of her mouth tips. “I like country music.”

  “Tear in my beer stuff, huh?”

  “No, it’s not all sad. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo someday. Why did you get yours? Why the gloomy song?”

  “To remind me. Every time I look at my wrist, it reminds me of a hard lesson in life. Why would you get one?”

  “Same reason.” She’s still holding my hand. I love the way she does it so naturally. She gives a squeeze and releases it. “Do you have tattoos anywhere else?”

  “I’m thinking about getting one here,” I say and point to my ribs.

  “What kind?”

  “I’m thinking I should get one that says ‘Veronica.’ What do you think?”

  She laughs and her eyes sparkle brighter than the sun on the evening water. “You are such a flirt.”

  A sound I faintly recognize trills from Veronica’s small purse. I lift an eyebrow. “Reason you’re not taking that?”

  She’s rubs a finger across the piping edge of the boat seat.

  I still her hand. “I could answer it for you.”

  Her head lifts along with her attitude. “Has anyone called you pushy? If you get into my personal business, I’ll leave. I don’t care how handsome you are. Don’t look at me with those bedroom eyes and think you can get your way. I’ll swim from this boat and be out of here.”

  I’m tempted to throw her in myself. Then again, the thought of her leaving fills me with a strange panic. “Has anyone ever called you ornery and secretive?”

  She shrugs. “Let’s not worry about my phone.”

  I have a crazy idea. “Want to swim?”

  “Are we skinny dipping?” She raises one eyebrow.

  I brought towels in case we needed them. I reach back and pull my T-shirt over my head. “We can swim like this.” I give her an innocent look. “You can take your shirt off too. Or leave it on…”

  She smirks and hauls her body out of the seat and onto the back of the boat.

 

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