Only A Memory

by J. Lea

  Connor’s definitely not a morning person. But it’s not my fault I cut his beauty sleep short. “Where are Mr. and Mrs. Ruiz? Are they home?”

  “Carlos is in bed, and Dolores took Ava to preschool, then went to work.” Great. I guess it’s just him and me for the day. Isn’t that nice. “They’ll be home in a few hours.”

  They? “Oh,” I mutter. Does he live here with his daughter, too? Dolores hasn’t mentioned it. I thought she asked her son-in-law to show me around since she knew she won’t able to do it herself.

  “Do you … Um, do you live here, too?” I ask carefully.

  “Well yes. This is my house. Carlos and Dolores live with me.”

  “O-kay.” Not good. Not good at all. I should’ve known the kids’ playhouse outside wasn’t just for when the grandkids come to visit.

  As he opens the door to my room the first thing I notice is how big and bright it is. Panoramic balcony doors take over almost half the wall, covered by soft, white, floor-to-ceiling curtains. The opposite wall is the color of lavender—my favorite color. A queen size bed with a cute nightstand on each side completes the look. It’s like a dream come true. This room is amazing. The other three walls are painted white, and there isn’t much furniture in it, except for a white sliding closet door to the left. A big mirror, and a white dresser with a giant flat screen TV complements the space. The floor is covered in a dark purple carpet, giving the room a comfy, warm feeling. Oh, and I see a beanbag; I’ll be definitely sitting in it with a book in my lap. A smile spreads my face. And there’s plenty of space for me to do yoga. Perfect.

  “The remote is on the nightstand. I’ve already shown you the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t have your own since there are only two – one downstairs, and the one on this floor,” his deep voice cuts off my thoughts, so I turn to face him. He’s casually leaning against the doorframe, his ankles crossed, and I’ve just caught him blatantly checking out my ass. Great. “I’ll be downstairs,” is all he says before he disappears. What an ass.

  The first thing I do is use the bathroom and do my thing. Burying my hands in my hair, I take a deep, calming breath. I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew. When I return to my room, I throw myself on the neatly made bed with several throw pillows on it.

  “Jesus,” I whisper, covering my face with a pillow. “What am I doing here?” I stay like this for several minutes, then scramble back to my feet to slide open the balcony doors. Fresh morning breeze blows into the room, and I can’t help myself but close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air. As soon as I open them, I’m overwhelmed by the sight of the deep blue ocean nearby. With a firm hold to the fence, I admire the view.

  “Stunning.” I always loved the ocean. The first chance I get, I’m going to take a walk on the sandy beach, burying my feet in a warm sand. My hair keeps messing with my lips, annoying me in the process as the morning breeze plays with it.

  “Hey.” Connor suddenly appears behind my back, causing me to jump and my elbow to slam into his nose.

  “Shit!” He bends down, clutching his nose tightly.

  My hand covers my mouth in horror. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” I apologize and kneel beside him to examine the damage I’ve done. “I had no idea you were standing behind me. I’m really sorry, sir.” Thankfully there’s no bleeding. He shouldn’t have sneaked up on me like that. I guess he paid the price.

  Shaking his head, he straightens up, smirking. “I’ve never gotten so physical with a woman I just met. I usually take her out first.”

  Standing up, a snort escapes me before I can suppress it. It serves him right for startling me. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “I guess you’re right. I promise to be louder next time I sneak up on you, I really don’t want to get beat up by a girl again. My pride would not approve.” A chuckle escapes him. He definitely is confident, a bit cocky, and looks like he can be charming, too, if he wants to be.

  “I’m glad we managed to sort this out, I wouldn’t want to mess up your face.” That would be a shame.

  “I just came out here to let you know the rest of your stuff is on the bed.” He rubs his nose again.

  “Thank you.” I smile, taken aback. I didn’t expect him to do that, not after how he glared at me when I arrived.

  “Go unpack, and when you’re all settled in, come downstairs, I’ll take you to Carlos. I told him you’re here, he wants to see you.”

  I nod. “Put some ice on your nose. You wouldn’t want it to swell, or bruise.” I wave my finger in front of his face.

  “The caregiver in you is already talking. I’ll be fine, but thanks.” He winks at me, and I exhale in relief. I almost broke his nose. On my first day of work. How messed up is that?

  Amber answers my call, rushing out, “So? What’s it like? Everything good?” I’ve taken a break from putting my clothes away to cool down; despite the AC I’m sweating like a pig.

  Hmm. “It’s not exactly like I imagined it’ll be.”

  “Okaaay,” she draws out the word dramatically. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asks, chewing on something. Knowing her, she’s stuffing her face with popcorn.

  “The truth? I don’t know. Mrs. Ruiz hasn’t come home yet. Connor Meadows opened the door.”

  “Connor? Wait a minute. Didn’t you say her husband’s name is Carlos?”

  “Yep. And Connor is their son-in-law. He thought I was an exotic dancer, and I almost broke his nose.”

  “What?” Amber snorts in laughter. “You, an exotic dancer? That’s hilarious.”

  “I know I don’t know how to dance like an exotic dancer, but I apparently dress as one.”

  “If that’s true, then the world’s upside-down. We both know how much I need to beg you to show a little skin every once in a while.”

  I shrug even though I know she can’t see me. “Never mind. You should see the view from my room. It’s breathtaking. The beach is right around the corner.” I push the curtains aside to peek outside again.

  “Good for you. I know how crazy you are about nature. I’m more interested in other natural things – you know, the ones hanging between a man’s legs. Tell me more about Connor. Is he hot?”

  “He’s okay.” I lie; she’d show up here today if I told her the truth. And the adjective hot doesn’t even do him justice. Smooth, inked skin, broad, hard chest, big hands, strong mouth. I couldn’t stop staring at him, which is so not me. I’m usually not so direct and blatant. And he’s not even my type. I blame it on the fact I haven’t seen a man half naked for ages.

  “Okay enough to take him for a roll between the sheets?” she sings.

  “Amber!”

  “What?” she asks, faking innocence. “What did I say? It was just a question, jeez. Well, have you unpacked yet?”

  “Almost done.” We speak some more before we hang up, and I go back to packing.

  An hour later, I descend down the stairs and head for the kitchen with the container of sugar-free cookies in my hands. I changed into more comfortable clothes – cutoff jean shorts and an old, stretched out basketball T-shirt.

  The kitchen area is large and spacious, just as beautiful as the rest of the house. Polished white floor tiles shine in the natural light coming from the big French doors, which lead to the large backyard. The kitchen cabinets are glossy and black, and the refrigerator, sink, oven and dishwasher are a contrasting silver color. Pictures of a little girl are plastered all over the fridge with magnets. I assume it’s Ava, Dolores and Carlos’s granddaughter. A table that sits eight people has a crystal vase full of fresh lilies on it. There’s also a kitchen island with a ceramic counter top and three black leather bar stools on one side. Sitting in one of those stools is Connor, now dressed in cargo shorts and a grey T-shirt hugging his well-defined biceps. A newspaper and coffee sit in front of him, but he seems lost in thought, his gaze fixed onto the floor. When he hears me approach, he looks up and clears his throat.

  �
�All unpacked?”

  “More or less. I’ll deal with the rest later.” Placing the container with the cookies onto the counter, I stop next to him.

  “Want some coffee?” With a chin, he gestures toward the coffee mug in front of him.

  I’d kill for a cup of coffee right about now. “Yes, please.” Taking the chair, I sit next to Connor. “Your house is very beautiful. It’ll take some time to adjust to my new surroundings since I’m not used to this kind of luxury.” I wave my arm around the room.

  While he’s pouring my coffee, I sneak another glance at Connor. He’s very tall, well over six feet two. Judging by his lean, athletic body and toned, muscled arms I bet he’s a very active man. His dark, thick, unruly hair falling into his coffee-colored eyes and the dark stubble on his face both need trimming. The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ rocker look must turn on many women. I’ve always had a thing for a more classically handsome, clean-shaven men in sharp business suits. Tattoos and muscles were never my thing until now, I guess. He’s attractive, and he knows it.

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “I’m really sorry I woke you up this morning. It’s just that Mrs. Ruiz told me to come over at around ten,” I mumble. Since we’re going to live under the same roof I want us to get along.

  “It’s fine,” he dismisses me. “It’s my fault for forgetting to set an alarm.” He pauses. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention earlier.” He places a mug of hot coffee on the counter in front of me. “Sugar?” he asks, and I shake my head. I pour milk as he continues, “This is your home now. But”–he raises his index finger–”I won’t allow you to bring men into this house, ever. I need to set a good example for Ava, and I can’t do that if we have strangers prancing around. If you have an itch, you need to get it scratched elsewhere.”

  Oh, my god. My eyes bulge, I almost spit my coffee at him. He did not just say what I think he said. “I would never even dare to think about doing that,” I reply in high-pitched voice. I’m a very private person and a professional at work. I know what appropriate behavior is when living in someone else’s house. “You don’t need to worry about things like that.”

  “Good.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Then we’ll get along great. May I?” he asks, pointing at the baked goods.

  “Sure.” A few moments of uncomfortable silence follow. I pretend to be extremely interested in my nails just so I can avoid his gaze. But the silence is making matters worse. “Can you tell me more about Carlos?” I speak up. “Your mother-in-law explained everything important during the interview and later on the phone, but there are still details she could’ve left out. I know he’s a diabetic, and has trouble walking on his own, so he needs help with getting up, showering, and dressing. She also told me which medicine he’s taking, and things like that. Oh, and she arranged for me to have access to his medical records,” I start to babble.

  “Slow down, I’m not following,” he stops me, the corners of his mouth turning up. Is this a ghost of a smile, or is he trying to contain his sneer? I really can’t read him. “By the way, these cookies are amazing. Where did you buy them?” he asks with a mouthful.

  “Thank you.” I grin at his compliment. “I made them myself.”

  “Seriously?” He gapes at me, shakes his head, and stuffs another cookie in his mouth. “A woman of many talents.” He mumbles the words so quietly I’m not certain if I’ve heard him correctly, so I don’t comment. Connor then proceeds to tell me about Carlos’s mental state being affected by the illness, and how he used to be a totally different person. He used to love cycling. He never asked anyone for help, always tinkering around the house, and doing all the manual work that needed to be done. Carlos and Connor also regularly played basketball together.

  I love listening to him talk about his father-in-law. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes tell me he loves and admires him greatly.

  We hear a noise at the front door, and a kid’s laughter follows. A second later, a little girl runs into the kitchen and throws herself into Connor’s arms for a hug. Mrs. Ruiz hurries into the room after her.

  “Daddy!” the girl sings, and squeezes her father with her tiny arms, and he gladly returns the hug. Standing up, he spins her around, and kisses her button nose. So gentle and sweet. A stab of pain spreads through my chest, but I hide it behind a smile.

  “Hey, pumpkin. How was preschool?” His voice is soft, loving as he sits down and places Ava on his knees, a complete opposite of the voice he used when talking to me. Interesting.

  “Good,” the girl responds. “Look what grandma bought me.” She turns her back to him. Perched on her shoulders is a red backpack with a picture of a mermaid on it.

  “Oh, another new thing,” Connor muses, giving Dolores a pointed look. “I thought you two came straight home.”

  Dolores shrugs. “Ava asked me to stop at that cute little shop around the corner. I couldn’t say no.” She finally sees me standing there. “Oh, Miss Everly!” and gives me a hug. “How are you?”

  “Good, thank you. Glad to be here.”

  “It’s so good to hear that. Has Connor showed you around?”

  “Yes. It’s a beautiful house.” I smile.

  The little girl tugs at the hem of my shirt. “Are you the lady who’s going to help my grandpa?” She stares at me curiously from her father’s lap.

  “Yes. My name is Everly.” Her eyes are big and brown, and she has thick, curly hair, and chubby cheeks. She doesn’t look like Connor that much, but she definitely inherited his eyes.

  “I’m Ava. I’m four years old,” she announces, accompanying this with four raised fingers. “And this is Charlie, my friend.” There’s a cute teddy bear in her hands.

  “Hi, Ava and Charlie. I’m very pleased to meet you both.” She is so adorable.

  “I hate to interrupt, but I’m going to check up on Carlos,” Dolores says. “Everly, would you care to join me? I can answer any questions you might still have.”

  I nod, put the coffee mug in the sink, and hurry after her.

  T wo days later, Phoenix and I are sitting at Mi Vida and discussing work over a glass of beer. It doesn’t take long until the conversation strays to more personal stuff.

  “So? What’s she like?” Phoenix asks, his gaze moves to a woman who just sat down close to him.

  “Everly?”

  “That’s her name?”

  “Uh-huh.” I raise the glass to my lips, the cold liquid running down my throat. “She’s okay.” He knows she moved in the house, we spoke about it a few days ago.

  “I bet Dolores is thrilled, now that she’s gotten the help she needed. And she finally has company, someone she can talk to, gossip with.”

  I shake my head at his words, laughing to myself. A group of young women walks by, grabbing his attention.

  “What’s so funny?” Phoenix shifts in his seat, arching his brow.

  “Nothing.”

  “Where’s she from?”

  I don’t answer, my mind preoccupied. There’s so much I need to get done in the next few days. We’re still a few bartenders short and all those flyers need to be mailed.

  “Hey, man, you seem distracted. You good?” Phoenix squeezes my shoulder.

  “Yeah, you know, work stuff. I’ve been doing some thinking. And I have no idea where Everly’s from. We only spoke a few words since she started.”

  “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Dolores can finally stop worrying. She can relax, confide in Everly … You never know, they might start a knitting group together or something.” He snorts in laughter, amused at his idea, and I almost choke on a gulp of beer, spitting some at Phoenix in the process.

  “Hey, watch it.” He gives me a dirty look, running his hands down his white linen shirt.

  “Sorry, man.” I cover my mouth with a hand to cover my smile.

  If he only knew how wrong he is about Everly. She is far from the image Phoenix made in his head. He’s certain she’s a middle-aged woman
with no social life. But in reality, Everly is younger than me and unbelievably sexy. Those arctic blue eyes took me by surprise. When I saw her standing at the front door, my first thought was: Is this a dream? Then, it occurred to me Phoenix could’ve sent her over to my house because practical jokes were his specialty and that pissed me off. The thought she was Carlos’s caregiver never even crossed my mind. She’s too … attractive for a caregiver.

  “I don’t think she’s anything like you’re imagining her to be.”

  “She isn’t?” Like usually when hot women are involved his attention is not on me.

  “Not at all.” I trace the rim of the glass with my finger. “Why don’t you stop by my place sometime and I’ll introduce you to her,” I tell him.

  “Speaking of introductions, look to your left. Couple of hot chicks devouring us with their pretty little eyes. Wanna go talk to them, buy them some drinks?” Phoenix’s eyes are burning with desire while he checks them out.

  Turning my head to the side, I immediately spot them. They are in their late twenties, dressed impeccably, talking and laughing. One of them turns my way. She winks at me, toying with a lock of her auburn hair. I’m used to women openly flirting with me since I own a nightclub, it comes with the job. I usually play along, making small talk, laughing at their jokes, even dancing if I’m in the right mood. But not tonight.

  “You go, I think I’ll take it easy, have another beer and then head home.” I’ve had a long and exhausting day.

  Phoenix yawns at my excuse dramatically. “You sound like my grandma.”

  “You don’t have a grandma,” I point out the obvious.

  He lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “Well, if I had one she’d probably sound like you.”

  “Go and have fun.” I jerk my head at those women. “I’m done here.” Putting an empty glass to the counter, I stand up.