by Brinda Berry
They left.
Now, I sit in the kitchen trying to decide my next move. Ironically, money is the basic problem I have after spending years denying I cared anything about it. I left home, running from my problems, five days ago without the sense to grab my savings.
I pull air into my lungs with an effort.
Come on, pull up the big-girl panties.
“Has that cup of coffee done something really bad to you?” Collin’s smooth voice snaps me out of my trance.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been giving the cup a dirty look for five minutes.”
I snort. “I’m thinking.”
Collin pulls out the seat nearest me and sits. “You have a minute?”
“Oh yeah. Lots of minutes.” If anything can make my day rewind and start better than my brooding thoughts, it’s looking at this guy. Collin’s wearing a black T-shirt that molds to his chest. He hasn’t shaved, or maybe the five o’clock shadow is on purpose. It’s the sort you want to rub up against. He wears his confidence like a subtle cologne. He doesn’t smile a lot. He just smolders with his intense gaze. Yes, he has the smoldering down pat. Expert smoulderer.
I’m not sure they make guys like him in Shelby City. I am sure I’ve never kissed one like he kisses. He’s the reason good girls like me get stupid. Kissing one minute and pregnant the next.
“Hey,” he says. “Are you sure now’s a good time?”
“Yes,” I answer, confused, wondering if he said anything before my mind took a Collin road trip.
“I said I have a proposition for you.”
“I’m dying for you to proposition me.” Why did fifty million filthy thoughts fly through my head when I said that?
Mr. Smoulder then smiles. Like he heard all those thoughts on a speakerphone.
My insides quiver, and I give him an embarrassed grin.
“I’d like to offer you a job.” Collin rests his elbows on the table and this moves him closer to me. He’s added a soft invitation to his voice, smoother than a Robin Thicke song.
My internal quivering doubles. I get out of my chair and take my coffee cup to the sink.
“What kind of job?” I lean against the kitchen counter.
“It’s a temp job for now. Working for my business.”
“Real work?”
“Well, I thought about fake work but then I’d have to pay you fake money.” He flashes me a smile, one corner of his mouth curling. It’s sort of a naughty boy expression—playful, guilty, and so darned cute.
“I’d prefer real work and money, thank you very much.”
“Good. Then it’s agreed. Let’s talk salary. I’ll pay you the same as what I’d pay any person off the street. You do a great job, I reward you with bonuses. You have to earn what you want to be paid.”
I’ll take a few of your kisses. Paid in full. Focus! “And what if I do a horrible job?”
“I fire you.”
My daydreaming stops in light of his serious tone. “Fair enough. When do I start?”
“Today.”
A thrill runs through me at the prospect of working myself out of my financial woes. I don’t even know what he’s going to ask me to do. I know he has a web business, but what does that mean? It could be a live porn show for all I know.
“What will I be doing?” I ask.
“Basically whatever I need. I’ll have to see where you have skills before I can answer.” Collin gets to his feet. “And Veronica? I haven’t mentioned this but Malerie and I are working partners. Ace is our CEO. We have a conference call this morning.”
So, not a porn show. “What exactly is this business?” I ask.
“Social media marketing for bands. The business is Gold Record Media. I do most of the web programming, Ace deals with contracts and legal stuff, Malerie handles publicity and ads.”
I’ve managed to avoid Malerie after the fiasco of feeling overpaid and pitied. If I were mad at her—really, truly mad—I’d have told her off that day. My problem is I was embarrassed for the first time in a very long time.
Embarrassed like the kid getting a free lunch. Too embarrassed to accept help. Now I have to face her again.
“When’s this meeting?”
“I have a couple of meetings today. I’ll do the first meeting from the car on speakerphone. It’s the one with Mal and Ace. We’re prepping for another call later today with Big Dog Records. You can take notes. I need to leave in fifteen minutes. Can you type?”
“Of course I can.”
“Good. I have an extra laptop. You can take notes on it.”
He walks forward and nudges me toward the game room. “Grab your things.”
My things consist of a wallet holding the money I earned from Malerie and a phone I keep carrying around like some imbecile who doesn’t know how to use it.
We get into his car and he hands over the laptop. “I’ve written some passwords on this index card.”
“Of course you have. You are very efficient,” I say primly. I examine the card. It’s full of passwords, phone numbers, notes, and directions. “Why do I need all this?”
“I almost forgot.” He passes a gold card to me. “I might ask you to make some purchases and charge them to my account.”
I clip my seatbelt and study him. “What if I steal all your money?”
“You won’t.”
I tilt my head and sigh. “Really? You don’t even know me. Of course, I could. Buddy, I could clean you out. You give every girl you know less than a week access to your credit cards?”
“Only the special ones. Besides, I get a text every time a charge is made over a certain amount.”
“You are some kind of charmer. So I could stick it to you a dollar at a time?”
He chuckles. “Something like that.”
“I called the tow company this morning. It took me an hour to find the one that has my car.”
“And?”
“There’s a mechanic who will go over and take a look.” I open his laptop and type in his password from the index card. “Maybe I can get it fixed. I mean, I could take a bus somewhere, but I’ll eventually need my car.”
“Right.” He sounds about as happy as a speeder pulled over for a ticket.
“Jordy said he’d check it out to make sure the mechanic is right.”
He groans. “Jordy knows jack shit about cars.”
“I’m a little desperate here.”
Collin pulls onto a freeway. “You don’t need Jordy. I’ll help you. Ready to take notes?”
“Yeah.”
He calls in to Malerie. I politely say ‘hi’ and keep quietly in the background. Ace is on the call also, sounding very business-like, discussing something called ROI and consumer profiles.
I’m a fast typist and have no trouble keeping up. Malerie makes a point to praise the work I did at her house earlier in the week. I feel silly for making a big deal about the money.
When the call is over, Collin maneuvers into a parking lot and checks his phone. “Email the notes to me. My address is on the card.”
“Will Ace and Malerie need them?”
“Good thought. I’ll give you their emails later. For now, give me your phone. I want to put my number in.”
I don’t give it a second thought and hand it to him. His eyebrows draw together as he programs in his info.
“What’s wrong?” I close the lid to the laptop. It’s nicer than the ones I always used at the library or when I was in high school.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You have that something look. Whatever’s on your mind, you should say it. Are you wondering how you can get your hands on such a fine phone?” I keep my words light. He probably thinks companies don’t make phones like mine anymore. Phones that only call another phone without all the razzle-dazzle of apps. “I lost my phone. This one’s a temporary,” I add.
“Will you answer when I call you?” He raises an eyebrow and hands my phone back.
“Of course.”
“There’re a lot of missed calls on your phone. I notice you don’t tend to pick up when it rings.”
My entire body tenses with guilt. You could probably bounce a quarter off my stomach, I’m holding my breath so hard.
I force air through my lips. “I’ll pick up. I’ll see your name and answer. Don’t worry.”
He looks as tense as I am. “Is it your brother? You don’t want to answer his calls?”
I’m surprised at his questions. Not surprised he’s asked, but that he thinks I wouldn’t answer Gunner’s calls.
“It’s not Gunner,” I say.
Collin gazes straight ahead without responding. “Not your brother,” he repeats.
“Are we going to sit in the parking lot all day? What’s next?” I put the phone back in my pocket and notice for the first time that we’re in a realtors’ parking lot.
“I’m looking for office space.”
“This is your meeting? Exactly why do you need me?”
“For the phone call earlier. You may be helpful with this, too. Let’s go. I have an appointment.” He exits the car and doesn’t look at me. I’m forced to follow or be left behind.
The stucco building houses a series of offices. At the end of a long corridor, we stop and enter a suite with two agents. Collin introduces me to the realtor, Mr. Hambry, and we’re on our way to the first property.
Mr. Hambry tosses a glance over his shoulder to me in the back seat. “Move the case in the back. My kids leave stuff like it’s a second bedroom.”
“Oh, I know. I babysit a friend’s kids back home and she always has more toys in her car than inside the house.”
“Where’s home?” he asks.
“Shelby City.”
“Arkansas?” Mr. Hambry meets my gaze in the rear view mirror.
“Yes,” I say.
Mr. Hambry brakes a little too hard, and I brace my hand on the seat.
“I know some people there. Let me think. I know some Macons from Shelby City. You know them?”
Panic hits me like heat from an exploding building. Please don’t ask about the Sterlings. Please. “Sure. It’s a small town.”
“That’s the only family I know from Shelby City.”
I exhale so loudly, Collin glances back at me.
Can he tell I’d like to jump from this moving interrogation room? “Sorry, Collin. I know you have lots of things to ask Mr. Hambry about the office. I could chat all day long about home but then you wouldn’t get your answers.”
Mr. Hambry laughs. “She’s right. First of all, we need to address your office needs. Would you like to see the three places I mentioned? Two have an annual lease and the third has a two-year.”
With my nerves feeling faintly like an unraveling sweater about to expose me naked, I attempt to pay attention to the office space tour. Collin chooses the largest one and I’m wondering who will sit in it besides him. The office has a loft space with a bathroom and small kitchenette.
I poke around in the various rooms, trailing behind them until Collin says he’s ready to sign papers. The drive back to the realty is quick with Mr. Hambry acting eager to get paperwork completed. They spend fifteen minutes in the office together and we’re done.
“Mind if we buy some things to take to the office?” Collin starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Nope. This is my job, right? Assist?”
He grins and nods. “See, I knew you’d be great at this.”
After leaving the realty office, we make three stops. Collin’s car is packed with bags and boxes we’ve wedged into the back seat and trunk. I’m glad to see the office.
We haul in supplies. There’s a funny smell we can’t identify and I decide a thorough cleaning is in order. I’m halfway finished with the front room when Emerson shows up at the door carrying bags of fast food.
“Took your time,” Collin says, looking up from an instruction sheet on how to set the office alarm.
“I was in class when I got your text.” Emerson wrinkles her nose. “Kind of slumming it, aren’t you?”
“Hi,” I say. “I didn’t know you’d be helping with this.”
“Same here.” Emerson sets the take-out bags on the only piece of furniture, a long credenza along one wall.
“Picnic time. You girls go ahead. I’ll finish and join you.” Collin returns to his task and Emerson and I stare at each other.
“Did you have fun the other night?” I ask. I’m not fishing for anything in particular. I want her to like me and I know the best thing you can do is be interested in what the other person has to say.
She shrugs. “It was fine. You?”
“Yes.” I can’t contain my smile. Who wouldn’t have a good time gazing at stars with a handsome guy? Even if he’s only helping me out to be nice.
The kiss a couple of days ago? Side-effect of being a nice guy. And there’s always the fact that guys will be guys. Always up for a random grope. I once witnessed Beck make out with three different girls in the same night. He later told me he was testing them for chemistry.
Right. I guess the acidic balance of their mouths didn’t suit him.
Emerson motions with her head. “I have some stuff in my car. Want to help carry it?”
“Sure.”
We walk silently to her car, where she pops the trunk and signals at some plants. “Thought I’d bring a gift.”
“That’s nice of you.” My smile wilts a little at her expression.
“I don’t have anything against you personally. Really I don’t.” She grabs an ivy plant.
“But?”
“Collin is a very nice guy. There aren’t tons of them left in the world.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, nodding my head enthusiastically. “I understand what you mean.”
“I don’t think you do. Collin’s had a rough year. He hides it.”
“I’m not dating Collin. I’m working here. Like you.”
“I’m going to tell you something. You repeat it and I will hurt you.” She says this through a lethal smile. “I’ve seen his ex. She came to the house one day while I was working. After she left, he let his shields down for a minute. Said some things that shredded my heart. He might still be in love with her. Maybe not. And maybe you’re a rebound thing.”
I suck in some air and hope she doesn’t see I can’t find enough oxygen. My heartbeat thrums in my ears. “I’m not dating him.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “It’s only a matter of time. Listen,” she says while pulling a second plant from the trunk. “If this is temporary and you have somewhere to be, then be kind. Move on. Go before he gets too attached.”
With those words, she leaves me standing at the back of the car. I close the trunk lid and steady my shaking limbs.
“Veronica?” Collin calls me from the door. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Coming.” My spirits can’t take much more. I’m a cheerful person, looking for the positive in every situation. The rainbow after a hard rain. The paycheck at the end of long week. The love of people I care about.
I miss Gunner. I miss my little bedroom with the faded pink curtains. I miss working at the Gimme Gas and babysitting Alyssa’s kids and rereading all my favorite books.
And I do need to leave. If I stay much longer, I’ll miss Collin. I’m not even gone and I miss him already.
13
Collin
Veronica hums while she types. The office is silent except for her faint humming. It’s small enough that we share the same area. Two desks at opposite sides of the room. A conference table in the middle. I strain to pick up the tune of her song, wondering if it’s one I know, if it’s her favorite. She’s wearing the same clothes, clean of course, but this reminds me of her current state. Two changes of clothing. She has so little, but she acts as though it doesn’t concern her in the least.
I don’t care what she wears. It’s the thought she might need something. I’m positive she’d be unhappy if I offered to buy
her some.
Her hesitation to take things makes my next suggestion a tricky one. “You almost done with those emails?”
“Um-hmm.” She meets my gaze. “What can I do for you?”
“I was thinking. Maybe you’d be willing to work a little longer. Semi-permanent.”
Her back straightens and her hands move from the keyboard. “What do you mean? How long?”
I shrug. “A couple of weeks? A month? I haven’t thought that far ahead. It’s just so nice to have some help. I didn’t realize how much time I spent doing the tedious tasks that take me away from the actual work my clients pay me to do. Malerie took a lot of duties on herself, but it’s hardly fair. She’s taking a lot of class hours this summer and…”
I don’t finish because I can see her processing my proposal, wavering on a response that I won’t like.
She stands and walks around to the front of her desk. “You know I appreciate everything. You took me in, gave me this job to make enough to fix my car—”
“And you’ve helped me. That’s why I know I need you.”
She looks to the window. “I can’t live in your game room.” Her mouth forms a tiny smile. “As much fun as your roommates are, I need to find a place of my own. The guys have probably already complained.”
“You’re wrong. I think they want to kick me out and keep you. But I have a solution.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t say anything. Listen for a minute.”
I stroll to where she stands and take her hand. Tugging her behind me, we ascend the stairs, which lead to the office loft. It’s still empty.
I release her hand and wave her to enter. “The futon at the house is mine. I can bring it over here. You’d have a bathroom and a kitchen. I ordered a refrigerator yesterday. I won’t charge you rent because you are helping me out by staying longer. You could save everything you make.”
It’s my best sales pitch. I wanted to say I needed more time with her. I thought about adding I’d be good to her, protect her from her boogie man. I almost said she might be the best thing that’s happened to me all year.
In the end, financial reasons seemed the most persuasive. Ever since the night at the rooftop pool, she’s kept her distance.