Man in Black

by Melissa Shirley

  Once inside her apartment, she dropped her keys and purse just inside the door, walked to the bed, and flopped backward. Her ceiling needed a good coat of paint. The two threads and tiny piece of backing that pretended to be carpeting mocked her curled toes. Yet, her bank account contained about four hundred dollars too little to pay this month’s rent.

  She flipped on the computer and sat down, waiting to log in. When the information flashed onto the screen, she groaned. Bank account. Twelve dollars and seventy-eight cents. She leaned back and stared at the screen. “Shit.” Not even enough money to buy a bus ticket to take her further than the next town.

  She picked up the phone and dialed, drilling her fingers against the desk. As soon as Lana picked up, Ryhan burst into tears. “Please come.”

  It took ten minutes, but Lana arrived, threw her coat on the bed, and gathered a still sobbing Ryhan in her arms. “Oh, honey.”

  “It’s horrible. My life is a train wreck, and I just can’t stay here anymore.” Lana reached in her purse and pulled out a large box of Kleenex. Ryhan took a tissue before looking over at her mother.

  “I would have been here sooner, but I had to stop for chocolate.” She patted her bag proudly. “Tell me.”

  “I slept with Jesse.” What? That had nothing to do with the tears. This was about Rick and the video, her job losses, the gossip and name-calling. “And he’s going to leave town. He kept reminding me, and I said it didn’t matter, but it matters.”

  “Of course it matters.” Lana handed her a candy bar, and before she could consider calorie counts or sugar content, she tore into it. She muffled a sob with a big bite from the corner.

  “And now, I have nothing here, except you and Mark and the kids. I don’t have a job. I have twelve dollars to my name. By the time I find a man who wants more than one night with me, I won’t have any eggs left.” Her babbling had taken on new heights.

  “Then we’ll go to the grocery store.” Lana had never dealt well with Ryhan’s meltdowns. It was more Mark’s area. But tonight, Ryhan needed a woman’s perspective. Maybe a different woman than Lana would have been smart, but there wasn’t another woman in town who was talking to Ryhan. Lana’s misunderstanding would have been comical except Ryhan ached with a hurt she needed help to make sense of.

  “No. The baby making eggs. I won’t be able to make babies.”

  “You want babies?”

  “Not today, but someday I will. And I want someone to love me the way that Mark loves you. But I have nothing to offer. No job, no money, no history or roots. I have a dad who killed my mom. It’s ugly. Who wants somebody with that hanging off their family tree? That’s my legacy. That’s what I bring to the relationship.”

  Lana smoothed Ryhan’s hair, took the tissue, and dabbed at the still leaking eyes. “You are more than what your dad did or what job you have or the amount in your checking account, Ryhan. You’re a woman that any man would be lucky to have. You’re smart and funny. . .and kind, beautiful. I promise you, sweetheart, there is a man out there who will sweep you off your feet and show you how wonderful you are.”

  Ryhan sucked in a breath, her heart chipping with each word she spoke. The words spun around her mind. More specifically, the L-word caused another sharp intake, then three more after that. A picture of his face in her imagination pushed the L-word to the front. “I love this guy.”

  “Jesse?”

  With another mouthful of chocolate she murmured, “Yes. He’s my Iron Man.”

  Lana shook her head, her forehead drawn, eyes half shut. “Is that some dirty reference to his junk?”

  Ryhan sighed. “No, it’s a reference to the way he is. Strong and protective and—”

  “And you’ve known him three, maybe four days.” Lana leaned back. “Are you sure it’s love? Really sure?”

  “Well, I’ve never been in love before, but I think so.”

  Lana spun the chair so that Ryhan faced her as she backed her way to the bed. “Symptoms?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about him. My hands shake when he’s around, my heart pounds, and I notice things.”

  Lana bit the inside of her cheek. “Things?”

  “The way his hair lies so straight against his neck until I run my fingers through it and it sticks out like a little pinpoint of perfection. The way his hands curl up when they rest and the way he shoves them in his pocket when he wants to touch me, but he isn’t sure if it’s the right time.” Her stomach clenched. “But he’s leaving and never coming back here.”

  “Then maybe you should find a way to make him stay.”

  “Make him stay in Rangers End?” She wasn’t even sure she wanted to stay.

  Lana stood to pace in the tiny space between the bed and the kitchen. “Go with me on this.” She spun. “I don’t know anyone as charming as you are. You always say the right words to make people gravitate toward you. I know it’s probably because you say everything all at once, but somewhere, in that mess of run-on sentences, you get the right ones in there.”

  “Again with the Ryhan talks too much thing?” She threw her hands up and started to stand, but Lana pushed her back.

  “Yes, but the point is you say the things people love to hear, and you’re sincere about it. Use that to win this guy. Make him stay or make him love you enough to take you along if that’s what works for you guys. But if you love him, don’t let him go.”

  “I can’t control him or what he does. He doesn’t even feel the same. He couldn’t wait to get me out of there this morning.”

  “You spent the night?” Lana’s eyes widened. “The whole night?”

  Ryhan nodded.

  “And?”

  She attempted a smile. “Iron Man.”

  “Wow.”

  “Talking about it isn’t going to help me.” The hope lifting her mood faded. “He couldn’t wait.” She spun the chair in circles. “I don’t want to be the clingy chick he slept with.”

  “It’s not clingy. You’re giving him a chance to see how wonderful you are, how dull and quite frankly, quiet his life will be without you in it. Wouldn’t you feel awful if he got on that plane and never realized what he’d left behind?”

  Ryhan grasped at the straw Lana extended. “If he doesn’t know after last night, nothing I do will make a difference.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. Relationships aren’t all about sex. It’s about making a connection with the other person. If he’s your person, the one you’re meant to be with, make the connection, Ryhan. Show him what he’s leaving here.” Ryhan pursed her lips, glad she’d called Lana. “Now, take a shower, get pretty, and go talk to that man.” Lana whooped with joy as Ryhan shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower. “I’m leaving now,” she shouted and made her way out the door as Ryhan belted out the first line of ‘It’s Raining Men.’

  The ten thousand dollar date from hell started with Melanie Spencer’s wedding to the Hollywood hipster/Mad Hatter groom. Beside him, Alex sighed through the entire ceremony. She’d even leaned over and whispered, “Play your cards right, big boy, and that could be us in a few months.”

  He smiled over at her. “Alexandra, I can’t get over your transformation since the first time I met you.” This was the explanation he’d been dying to hear since she first climbed in the car.

  She ran her hand down his arm. “Well, my Grandma is a wise woman, and she’s very worldly. I’m almost thirty years old, and this is my first real date. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Lord. I really do. But all through high school, I stayed home while girls like Ryhan went out and had fun with boys I could only dream about. And when I saw you, the way you asked me to go out, I wanted that. All my life.” She leaned against his shoulder. “So, I asked Grandma how she got all those men to fall in love with her. She made a spa appointment for me, and here I am. . .ready and willing.” She turned to face away from him, and before he realized what she was doing, she was lying with her head in his lap while the bride and groom shuffled back down the aisle.


  The wedding flowed into a reception with waiters passing champagne flutes and finger foods as guests mingled and danced. For Jesse, the entire affair had been an exercise in his patience and his ability to sidestep his date’s pinching and squeezing hands.

  He’d endured the ass grabbing, the accidental brushes of her hand against his zipper as she adjusted and readjusted the napkin in his lap for the hundredth time. He’d survived the grinding against him during the lover’s waltz. But the way she’d insisted on toasting their ‘new relationship’—with a long slug of wine before she smashed her crystal champagne flute against the floor—had crossed a line.

  Thankfully, at that point, her grandmother stepped in and dragged him away for a dance.

  “I’m sorry about Alexandra. I may have misjudged her ability to entice you.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Entice me?”

  She sighed. “If I don’t get all these kids married off soon, they’re going to end up living off me until I die. I’m not so worried about the boys. You remember them?”

  “Yeah. I went to college with Jacob, and Noah was a few years younger than me.” He spun her out then smiled at her giggle when she came back against his chest. “Jake’s a doctor now right? And Noah is down in Hollywood?”

  “I’m only worried about their happiness, but Alexandra. . .” She shook her head on the tail end of an eye roll. “I thought. . .”

  “You thought you could push her off on me?” Not the nicest sentiment he’d run across, but not the worst in this town either.

  “I didn’t count on the Connor girl.” She shrugged. “I tried.”

  Alex had sidled up to one of the groomsmen. Was that Marco? “I wouldn’t worry about Alex. Something tells me she’ll be fine.”

  “One can hope.” The song ended, and she took two steps back. “Thank you, kind sir, for showing an old lady the error of her ways.”

  “Thank you for the dance.” And saving me from your granddaughter.

  “Shall I escort Alex home?”

  He appreciated the offer, but if nothing else, this once, he’d be a man of his word. He shook his head. “She paid for a date. I should see it through.”

  Lucia nodded and winked before she walked away.

  If not for Lucia, the entire night would have been wasted. He genuinely liked her.

  The rest of the night proceeded with painful slowness. When he’d finally been able to drag Alexandra away from the bar, he walked beside her as she clutched his bicep with one hand and squeezed the feeling from his fingers with the other. Her head rested against his shoulder, and every couple steps they took, she used her hand to push the back of his against her crotch. Finally, they reached Lucia’s front porch, and Jesse carefully pried free of her grip. The woman had man hands. Long, strong man hands.

  “I had a good time,” she whispered, locking him in a hug around his waist as she used her chin to nuzzle his left nipple.

  “Me too.” His voice cracked as her hand slipped back to his ass, pinching his skin between her bony, oversized fingers.

  She whimpered against his neck as she rose on her tiptoes. “I was hoping we could do it.” She covered her mouth with her hand, not quite hiding a coquettish smile. “I mean, go out again. I was hoping we could go out again.”

  Jesse closed his eyes to hide their slow roll into his head. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I don’t really plan to be in town long.”

  What he hoped was supposed to be a grin passed over her face. “Then I guess we’ll have to make the most of the time we have.”

  He chuckled as she pressed closer, and the hand not attached to his ass slipped along his zipper. He waited for the familiar sensations that announced he wanted sex. When nothing happened, he took her roaming fingers in his own and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to lead you on, Alex. I respect you too much for that.” He smiled. “I’m leaving as soon as my business here is finished, and you are way too special to me to risk our”—he stammered for a word—“our friendship on a one night stand.”

  Her creepy clown smile reappeared and his eyes widened. “You’re right. But just so you know what you’re missing. . .” Lips not as soft as Ryhan’s attacked his, sucking them into a mouth that tasted as if it had been recently attached to the ass end of a sewer pipe. This was a kiss that mouthwash would never erase.

  As she pulled back, she winked and said, “Now you have something to dream about tonight while you take matters into your own hands.”

  She shut herself inside, and he hurried to his car, putting as much distance between them as he could manage in such a small town.

  He pulled the car into his mother’s drive, wanting nothing more than to call Ryhan. He slapped his hand against the seat next to him. He’d never managed to get her number. Stepping out of the car, he made a mental note to drop by and see her at an hour that wouldn’t justify calling the authorities.

  “Hey.” He jumped at the sound of her voice.

  His smile spread before he had the chance to consider it. “I was just thinking about you.”

  She stood against the brick wall alongside the steps.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “About an hour.” She shook her head. “That sounds desperate, doesn’t it? Scratch that. I just got here.” She smoothed her hands down her jeans—her very tight jeans.

  His mouth went dry, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth.

  “So, how was your date?”

  “Better in theory.”

  “Considering her new look and the just-escaped-from-a-Texas-prison accent, I would have thought you’d be out for a while.” She brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket sleeve and let her hand linger a few seconds longer than necessary.

  “And yet, you’re waiting for me.” With his hands on her hips, he pulled her down a step, putting them at eye level. “I’m glad you’re here.” He nodded toward the front door. “Wanna come in?”

  “You know, I would like to come in, but not tonight.”

  “Why not?” Something about her logic intrigued him, and he ran a finger down her cheek while he waited for the answer.

  “Be-because, I always heard it’s best to leave them wanting more.” She leaned in and kissed him, her lips parting his and her tongue probing the inside of his mouth. A woman had never exerted such control over him. Blood roared in his ears as it made its way beyond his stomach. “You want more?”

  He nodded.

  After another light kiss, she stepped back and brushed past him, heading down the driveway. Her hips shifted with more gusto than he’d noticed before. She turned and continued walking backward. “Sweet dreams, pretty boy.”

  He waited until she disappeared around the corner before he turned to walk inside, shaking his head. Something about her caused an extra beat in his heart. He pulled out his phone and held it to his forehead. Dammit. He’d forgotten to get her number again. He trudged up to the door. After those kisses on the front steps, he needed a cold shower.

  By the time he checked his phone, he had seven texts waiting for him. All from his father. He stood glaring, wishing he hadn’t pressed the little envelope.

  DAD: Gilden declined the offer.

  DAD: I’m going aggressive. Don’t need you in Rangers End anymore.

  DAD: You can come home now. I have a new plan in place.

  DAD: Going around the old broad. Come home, need you to sign some papers.

  DAD: Call me with your flight information.

  DAD: Need you here by 9 Monday for a meeting to firm up the details.

  DAD: Call me.

  After rereading the messages, he huffed out a breath. Whether out of defiance or just because he’d finally realized the rumbling in his stomach stemmed from the wrongness of what he was doing, he realized he didn’t want to bilk the woman out of her land. Shit. He actually liked her. He snapped the phone against his leg.

  Aggressive? What the hell did that mean?

  Forsaking the shower, he took t
he steps two at a time down to his mother’s office and logged on to the company mainframe. He checked his emails for a clue, but the old man was too smart to leave that kind of electronic trail. He’d be more slick, more covert. He’d never put the ideas down on paper.

  Jesse read the texts again. Aggressive. Hmm. He’d spent enough time with his father to know that money was the weapon of choice. Malcom was never more aggressive than when he had the power a few million dollars provided. He logged into the company’s bank and searched his online accounts, and there it was. On the last entry, he found it. His father had drained their joint account to wire money to the First Community Bank of Rangers End. A lot of money. As he counted the zeroes, anger ate a hole in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes picked out the red in every piece of furniture and painting in the room. The paperweight on his mother’s desk rattled as his hand came down hard on the blotter under the keyboard.

  “What the hell?” He stabbed his father’s number into the phone. “What did you do?”

  “What are you talking about? This is what we wanted.”

  “No. This is what you wanted, whether it bankrupted us or not. What the hell were you thinking?” His father didn’t answer so he continued. “There’s nothing left. Everything I worked for is gone. Who the hell gave you the right to touch my half of that money?” His fist shook in anger, and his legs burned as the fury made its way through his blood.

  “We bought the town, Jesse. And I will raise rents and sell that rinky-dink little place off a piece at a time until I get that town square. I already fast-tracked the drilling permits. If that old broad won’t sell, I’ll drill every inch of that town, and I have every right to do it.”

  “The hell you do. You used my money, my company, and my name.” But it wasn’t really his company anymore. His father had seen to that. “Who the hell authorized you to wire that much money?” Jesse’s blood boiled in his veins.

  “The whole town is in debt to their eyeballs. There is no way they can bail themselves out. All they have to do is give me the land, and I will turn the rest of the town right back over to them.”