Embrace

by Fernandez, Michelle

  I sigh and give a small smile. “I hate to admit it. Although I disliked the late shifts, I’m going to miss working here.” I close my locker and tap my fingers on the magnetic name badge on the outside of the door.

  “Listen, I better get out there. Gio is in my section and you know how needy he is.”

  “Good ole Gio. Back to get his midnight snack, eh?”

  “Honestly, I think he’s got a crush on Tawney.”

  “I think so too!” I giggle.

  “I think Tawney likes Gio too,” Emily says and lowers her voice as she looks over her shoulder, “but she’s too stubborn to admit it.”

  “You may be right.”

  “I overheard Tawney talking to him the other night, and he invited her to his winery.”

  “Tawn deserves to be happy again.”

  “Isn’t it funny how love just finds you at the most peculiar times? Gio strolled into this diner many months ago and has been our midnight regular since then. At first, I thought it was because he was lonely, but I think it’s because he found Tawney.” Emily looks at her reflection in the small mirror near the door, tucks a loose strand behind her ear, then turns to face me. “Maybe at the marketing firm, you’ll find your Gio?”

  “I doubt it. I’m there to work. Besides, mixing business with pleasure is a hard no for me.”

  “Well, I hope you find happiness either way. Don’t be a stranger,” she says, giving me a hug then exits the break room.

  I sit for a moment in the plastic chair, offering my aching feet some respite before the walk home since my car battery died on me. I should call for an Uber, but I’m only five blocks away and the rain has stopped.

  I make my way down the hall and peek my head inside the kitchen.

  “Bye, Landon,” I quickly say as he flips a burger.

  “You sure you don’t want to wait? I have a few more orders I need to fill, then I can drive you home. Mom and Em can handle it.”

  “No, I’m good. But thanks, though. I could use the fresh air.”

  “It may start raining again,” he says.

  “It’s just water and I have an umbrella.”

  He gives me a soft smile as I pick up a bag with my name on it. Emily’s pouring coffee in Gio’s cup and I see Tawney sitting at the far end booth talking to a man. The man is wearing a cap and his back is facing me and from what I can see, he’s not a regular. She laughs at something he must have said, and I don’t want to interrupt their conversation.

  “Bye, Tawney,” I call out as I open the door and wave. “I’ll drop off the apron tomorrow after I wash it.”

  “Bye, sugar!” Tawney bellows from the booth and waves back. “Don’t forget your banana bread I packed for you. Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Landon?”

  “I would never leave without it, thanks. And it’s not that far to walk. I’ll be fine.” I raise the plastic bag, the handle around my wrist, and hot cocoa in my hand.

  “Call me the moment you get in, Dee,” she calls out.

  I open the silver swinging door one last time. “Yes, ma’am!” I yell over my shoulder, feeling the cool air waft over my face as the bell chimes and the door shuts behind me.

  With the warm cocoa in my hand as I trudge uphill, I keep my eyes straight ahead. My feet move rapidly as I count the squares on the sidewalk to the end of the block, skipping over the puddles.

  I’m grateful I made good tips on my last night and plan to pay a visit to the mall to buy a new power suit since I will meet Mrs. Cole on Monday and need to make a good first impression.

  The pinch in my lower back tells me I need to soak in a tub of hot water and bubbles, and I look forward to trying out the new scent I got in the mail from Jenna. Her shop has done well since I helped with new graphics for her to advertise.

  The crashing ocean waves provide a soundtrack for my walk. Several passing cars splash the water-filled potholes and an open window in the apartment above catches my attention only to hear a chattering conversation. I’m deep in thought about what I need to accomplish before starting my job, when I hear my name.

  “Dee?” the low treble of a man’s voice calls from behind me.

  “Jesus!” I squeal, jumping at least five feet out of my skin before dropping my bouquet and warm cocoa. I quickly pull out my pepper spray from my purse, point my weapon at him, and yell, “Stand back!”

  “It’s me . . . Brody. Do you remember me? From the club?” he asks as he steps under the light of a streetlamp. Brody quickly raises one of his hands to the side and with the other, lifts the brim of his cap.

  My breath catches as he steps closer. “W-what are you doing here?”

  “You gonna put that thing away?” He motions to my pepper spray, still pointing at him.

  “Not until you tell me what you want,” I say with my finger on the trigger.

  “I promise I mean no harm. Are you heading home?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I just want to make sure you get there safely, that’s all. I was just at the diner and heard you tell Tawney you were walking home. If it’ll make you feel better, call Tawney or Landon and ask about me.” He points his thumb over his shoulder toward the diner behind him. Then it clicks. He was the one sitting with Tawney in the booth.

  “How do you know them?” I ask, lowering my pepper spray and tucking it in my purse.

  “I grew up here and Landon and I went to school together.” He steps forward and hands me the bouquet I dropped on the ground then tosses the now-empty hot cocoa cup into the garbage next to the streetlamp.

  “Sorry I scared you.” Brody stands in front of me with a boyish smile and his hands tucked in his pockets.

  “You don’t need to walk with me,” I say. I take in a fortifying breath. My heart is racing and I’m not sure if it’s from him scaring me a moment ago or the newfound feeling that’s rooting deep in my belly, igniting something I can’t explain as the sparkle in his eyes locks onto mine.

  “It’s not safe to walk this late at night.”

  “Look, I’m not trying to be mean . . . it’s just—‍”

  “I get it. You have a boyfriend.” He cuts me off.

  I stifle a laugh. “Boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. That’s who gave you the flowers, right?”

  “Oh, god, no. These are from Tawney.”

  A grin lights his face. “Well, in that case, I’d like to walk you home. If it’s okay?”

  “Don’t tell me you have a hero complex,” I say playfully. A press of his lips and a change in his expression tells me I must have unintentionally touched a nerve. “Thank you, I’d like that.”

  There are a few seconds of silence as we walk up the sidewalk until Brody clears his throat and says, “I felt bad, you know? At the club.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All I had to do was escort you, then you were gone. I thought about you and hoped you got home okay.”

  “Well, that’s sweet of you.” A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, liking the idea he was thinking about me. I hope he doesn’t see right through me and that I have also thought about him too—especially in my dreams.

  Dreams I remember all too well. He plays a starring role, with his broad shoulders filling out his perfectly tailored suit. The shadow of scruff on his chiseled jawline. His firm hand gently caressing the skin of my back, sending goose bumps up my spine to the nape of my neck.

  “How long have you been working at the diner?” Brody asks, bringing me back to the here and now.

  “A few months. But this is my last night.”

  “Why’s that?” he asks.

  “I got another job.”

  “Tawney mentioned that she lost one of her waitresses. What will you be doing now?”

  “Working in the marketing department for an ad company.”

  “Beautiful and talented,” he says with a smile. “So, tell me, Dee. Is that short for Dorothy?”

  “Dorothy?” I give him a bewildering glare.


  “Your sweatshirt. The Chiefs. Kansas. Yellow brick road.”

  I look down at my hoodie and connect the dots. I almost want to tell him my real name, but I keep it to myself for now.

  “Dorothy, huh? You’re the first to call me that.”

  “I like firsts with you.” His voice is just a whisper, but I hear it, nonetheless. Those few butterflies that took flight in my tummy have now become a swarm.

  “So, how did you find me?” I ask, assuming that’s why he showed up at the diner at the end of my shift. If he’d been thinking about me, maybe he went looking for me.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” With the way he rubs the back of his neck, I detect there’s something weighing down his broad shoulders. “I needed some fresh air. Drove for a bit. I parked my car and just started walking.”

  “Just started walking.”

  “Yes. Walking.”

  “And you were asking what I was doing walking late in the evening. At least I have a destination.” I lift my brow.

  “Sometimes just walking can lead you to a destination.” He bobs his head slightly as if he’s justifying his late-night stroll. “Which is how I ended up at Tawney’s. When I heard her call your name, I turned hoping you would see me talking to her, but you were already out the door.”

  “So, you’re saying it was pure coincidence?”

  “I call it fate.” His smile grows on his face, and I swear I saw a dimple on his cheek.

  “Fate, huh?”

  “I can tell you don’t believe me, and I make you uncomfortable. Just like at the club.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t know you, that’s all. And having a stranger walk me home is not an everyday thing.”

  “I’m not really a stranger. We have met before and you know my name.”

  “That's just semantics.”

  “And what’s the semantics of a beautiful woman walking alone this late?”

  “I’m only a few blocks away. Plus, I have my weapon.”

  He chuckles. “And I have come close to meeting your weapon.”

  “I usually drive. But my Jeep wouldn’t start. It finally gave up today.”

  “Do you want me to take a look?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I think it’s my battery.”

  “You sure?”

  “I know a thing or two about cars. My dad and brothers taught me to be self-sufficient.”

  “You’re not like other girls I have met.”

  “What do you mean?” I’m not sure how to take his judgement, as an insult or compliment. “I’m not some damsel in distress. And I don’t mind getting dirty once in a while. I can take care of myself.”

  “If I offered my help to any other girl, they would have twirled their hair and batted their lashes begging for me to take a look under their hood.”

  I laugh at his innuendo as he looks at me with suggestive eyes. There’s something intense about this lighthearted moment, and I can’t explain why I feel like this.

  “I assure you, Brody. You are not going to look under my hood.”

  I can feel the weight of his stare as I try my hardest to keep my eyes fixed forward, counting the squares on the sidewalk.

  “Well, the way you’re walking, I assure you that your battery is running just fine.”

  “Is that how you reel in the ladies? Come to their rescue in the middle of the night, follow them home, and offer to fix their car?”

  “If that were the case, then I definitely need more lessons.” He chuckles. “One thing I do know is you’re beautiful.”

  I glance his way and embarrassment warms my cheeks as I use my dark hair to veil my face. I have gotten good at hiding my emotions. I created a façade when I was with Todd and no one had a clue about what was going on behind it. But somehow, in a matter of minutes, Brody has cracked open that chained and double locked door.

  I look straight ahead, shake my head, and chastise myself. I can’t do this. I can’t fall down a rabbit hole of emotions. It was how I fell for Todd—his charming words, flirty eyes, and dazzling smile. God knows I have had enough pain to last a lifetime.

  “Is that your Jeep?” Brody motions to my car parked on the street in front of my house.

  “Yup. That’s my Duke.”

  “You named your Jeep, Duke?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I ask, wondering why that should be a surprise to him. Most men I know name their cars.

  “You should name a car after a woman. Not a man.”

  “Such a guy thing to say.”

  “You should, you know?” Brody chuckles, quickly stepping in front of me, walking backward.

  I place my hand on my hip and stop in my tracks, trying so hard to stop the flutter in my belly. “Tell me your reason a vehicle should have a woman’s name.”

  “When I look at my car, and all its curves, no way I could think I’m looking at a man. Let alone riding in one.”

  Brody takes his cap off his head and slips it on backward. The look in his brandy-colored eyes pulls at me, escalating the sexual tension crackling in the air.

  “I guess a woman is more relatable than a man,” I finish for him as I tuck my tongue in my cheek, forcing my smile not to tug at the corner of my lips.

  “Dorothy has some jokes?” He laughs and continues, “Anyway, when I saw my car in the lot for the first time, I knew off the bat she was the one. When I took her for a test drive, I was hooked and couldn’t wait to take her places. There was an instant connection. Like an attraction, you know?”

  “And let me guess, you drive a sleek sports car,” I assume, giggling.

  “A truck,” he says nonchalantly.

  “A truck?”

  “And what’s wrong with a truck?”

  “Trucks don’t purr, Brody.”

  “Well, this one does. It’s a low purr. She may be quiet at first, but when she wants to be, she’s feisty and tough.”

  His words pull at me and I’m left wondering if we’re still talking about cars. He stands in front of me with such confidence, comfortable in all his manhood. And, he’s all man. His broad shoulders tower over me as I quickly study the line of his jaw and he darts his tongue out to lick his lips.

  “And her name is . . .”

  “Lola,” he states as if it’s the most natural thing to name a truck.

  My laugh bellows from the pit of my belly. I shake my head at how ridiculous this conversation is. Maybe I’m laughing because I’m exhausted from the late-night shift at work or for the first time since I arrived in Southern California I don’t want to go home.

  “You named your truck Lola?” I say, wiping a tear from my eyes as my laugh echoes around us.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “That’s a stripper name. Trucks are supposed to be guys and sportscars are girls.”

  “Says who? And now you agree a car should be named after a girl?”

  “It’s common sense.”

  “I beg to differ, Kansas.” A lopsided grin tugs at his face and for the first time in a long time, a brick from my sky-high wall falls at my feet, feeling vulnerable yet safe in his presence.

  The mugginess left behind is a fresh breeze. The streetlamp we’re standing under is a bit brighter. Even though I don’t know a thing about this man, there’s something comfortable about this moment.

  He doesn’t say another word. It feels like the air has shifted as the aroma of laundry detergent blended with the intoxicating clean scent of his cologne surrounds me as I breathe him in.

  “Well, this is it, Brody.” I motion to the front door of my house and all the windows are lit up. “Your escort service has now come to the end on the yellow brick road.”

  “Yellow brick road. That’s cute, Dorothy.” His chin juts to the living room window with the bright lamp. “Somebody home?”

  “No. I leave lights on in the house,” I tell him. “A house should always be lit when you come home. It’s welcoming. I have been doing it since I was a kid.”
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br />   “Nothing wrong coming home to a well-lit home. But your electricity bill must be through the roof.”

  “Lucky for us, we have solar panels.”

  “We?” He angles his head.

  “My roommate, Sydney. The woman I was with at the club.”

  “Ah, yes. How is she?”

  “She’s good. Syd saw her ex-boyfriend at that private party. And I think they’re trying for a second time around.”

  “And what about you? Do you have an ex-boyfriend that wants you back?”

  As much as I try to stay calm, his question puts me on edge. My insides churn, paranoia strikes as if I am back at home with Todd lurking in the shadows, watching me. I shake the thought out of my head.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” he asks.

  “No. Yes . . . I mean, no.” I try to regain my composure at his unnerving question. Get a grip, Dee. Todd is not here.

  “Which is it, Dee? No or yes?”

  “Yes, there is an ex-boyfriend . . . and no, he’s not someone I would ever give a second chance,” I say with certainty.

  “That’s good to hear.” A smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

  The board creaks as I take a step up on my porch and I’m eye to eye with Brody when I face him. I look back at the front door, hearing Serena’s paws scratch against the wood.

  “Is that Toto?” he asks playfully.

  “Serena. And she’s not a small dog. She’s a Husky-German Shepherd mix.”

  He holds up his hand, counting off his fingers. “First, pepper spray and now a guard dog. Something tells me you like to protect yourself.”

  “Something like that.” If he only knew. My body tenses for a moment at the thought of Todd and the only reason I brought Serena with me. She hated him and every time he came near my home, she growled and barked like crazy.

  My feet shift again as the wood slat makes a rickety sound and Serena’s whimpers become louder. I clear my throat. “Well, thanks for escorting me home, Mr. Brody-the-bodyguard.”

  His sigh is audible. “At least I didn’t lose you this time.”

  “That was partly my fault,” I admit. “I did it on purpose.”