Data Capture

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Data Capture Page 5

by Jesse J. Thoma


  “After George the First died, it took Lola forever to talk to me, or anyone, about what she was feeling, thinking, anything. She’s kind of like that now. She’ll come around, I hope. Maybe Jose’s had more luck. They’re pretty close. I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

  “You think she’s going to listen to you and stick with surveillance only?” Isabelle looked concerned.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Holt was surprised by Isabelle’s question. Lola knew the rules of the crew, and they’d come up with the plan as a team. Surely Lola wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her safety.

  “I don’t know. She just had a funny look on her face when you tried to send Moose in her place today. Sort of desperate. And you said yourself, she’s been clammed up and not talking to you. I’m worried about her. It was Tiffany’s new guy who almost killed Dubs. I don’t know if she blames herself for not figuring that out…”

  Isabelle didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t need to. Holt knew what she was thinking. She should have been thinking the same thing herself. She ran her hand through her hair. Damn it. Why haven’t I been checking on her more? If she’s been carrying that weight and I let her down…Damn it.

  “Hey, babe,” Isabelle said, stroking her back, helping her reel in her emotions. “I’m just speculating. No proof. She got cheated on, dumped, and embarrassed in front of her family. That alone is enough to explain why she’s been a little distant.”

  “Yeah, but if she does blame herself, she’s going to try and make up for it. And I should have seen it coming.” Holt wasn’t willing to let herself off the hook.

  “Well, you do now,” Isabelle said. “And we aren’t supposed to be talking about work at home.”

  “You started it,” Holt said. “And how did you become better at my job than I am?”

  “Oh, I’m certainly not. I do not look good in ass-kicking boots.” Isabelle whispered “ass” since George was still in Holt’s arms.

  “You look good in anything,” Holt said. She took her time looking her up and down to make her point.

  “Stop it,” Isabelle said with a grin that would have sent them racing to the bedroom before George, and if they weren’t about to have a house full of people.

  The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their first guests for family dinner. Holt knew it was probably Amy. She usually got there first so Superman and George could play.

  “Guess I’m going to have to break the news to Superman,” Holt said. “Amy will probably enjoy watching me stumble through this one.”

  “You’ll survive, tough guy,” Isabelle said. “And, sweetheart, Lola will be okay. You’ll make sure of it. Tonight let’s enjoy family dinner. No more work talk.”

  Holt hoped so. Isabelle was right. Now that Holt was alerted to the possibility that Lola was carrying an extra burden, she would be more aware of her actions. But she was out on a limb three thousand miles away. Damn it.

  Chapter Six

  Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose and looked around her office, hoping to find some patience hiding somewhere among the stacks of books and papers. Her office hours started in five minutes and midterm grades had posted that morning. She wasn’t worried about her graduate students, but she had two sections of an undergraduate psychology course. They complained about everything. At least a few of them, and they were the ones who would likely be visiting her in, she looked at the clock, three and a half minutes.

  Turns out she didn’t even have that long. Two of her students knocked and came in before she could answer. Why did they always have to travel in pairs? They sat in the chairs in front of her desk and started arguing their case immediately.

  “Quinn,” the first one said. “How could you even for a second put that grade up there? I know you’ll work it out, but I’ve been freaking out all afternoon.”

  “Dr. Golden,” Quinn said.

  “What?”

  “My name,” Quinn said calmly. “Is Dr. Golden.”

  “Uh, Dr. Quinn Golden, right?” the woman said.

  “Correct,” Quinn said.

  We’re off to a fantastic start.

  The woman and her friend looked confused, maybe a little less confident, but they seemed to get the point and respected her desire to be addressed formally. Her graduate students called her by her first name, but the undergraduates didn’t. Not when she could enforce it. They already had enough trouble adjusting to the differences between high school and college, and despite her age, she wasn’t their BFF, there to coddle them and make their lives easy. She was Dr. Quinn Golden, who not long ago had been in their shoes and had worked her ass off to get where she was. They could do the same.

  “So my grade,” the woman said.

  “Did I make a mistake in the grading?” Quinn asked. She tried to look sympathetic.

  “Well, not exactly. But it’s still not fair.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I am not a C-plus student. You have to fix it.” The woman’s voice rose.

  “If the grading was correct, then there’s nothing I can do right now. I know it’s frustrating, especially after you study hard for an exam.” Quinn was giving her way more credit than she suspected she deserved. “But it’s only the midterm. This isn’t insurmountable.”

  “I don’t understand. I came in to talk to you, just like you said we should if we have a problem. You’re really not going to do anything about my grade?” The woman looked stunned.

  “I’m really not,” Quinn said. “That’s your job over the next few weeks. But I’m here to help you as much as you need.”

  The two women left without another word. Quinn heard her student mutter to her friend on the way out. It sounded like “stupid fucking bitch,” but she wasn’t sure. The rest of her office hours were a variation on the same theme. Only one student actually wanted to discuss the exam and see where she’d made mistakes. The rest wanted to complain about how unfair it all was.

  Jessica stuck her head in once the last student had finally left.

  “The hooligans were rough on you today,” she said.

  Quinn didn’t answer; she just put her forehead down on her desk in defeat. She was a researcher. That was what she loved. Teaching wasn’t her strongest skill and she knew it. She didn’t mind it most of the time, but it was times like the last two hours when she remembered the beautiful, glorious, fantastic nature of her research. Data didn’t talk back.

  “Good thing I’m taking you out tonight. Cheer you right up,” Jessica said.

  “Excuse me?” Quinn said. She looked up quickly and tried to judge Jessica’s expression. The offer didn’t sound terrible.

  “Well, I’m not taking you out, out. Just out with my non-judgmental, non-whiny, awesome friends. You’ve met a few of them before, but now we’re all going to hang out. It’s Friday night, you’re young and hot, and if I don’t drag you out of here, that’s where you’ll sleep.” Jessica pointed to the couch across from Quinn’s desk. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  She probably wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” Quinn said. She really did need to get out more, and she wasn’t really in the mood to work. Not after an afternoon with the hooligans. She finished work and headed home to relax and shower before heading out with Jessica, something she found she was looking forward to.

  Just after ten, Quinn followed Jessica and her friends into the club they’d chosen for the evening. Jessica’s friends were as advertised, and dinner had been full of laughter. Most of the jokes had seemed to come at Jessica’s expense, but she didn’t seem to mind. Best of all, no one seemed to care what Quinn did for a living outside of what was initial polite small talk. The most intense line of questioning had revolved around whether she was joining in their quest to get drunk and find hot women for the night.

  They found a table and Quinn and Jessica elbowed their way through the crowd to the bar.

  “You know,” Jessica said, shouting over the music, “you never answered if you were joining in our fun
for the evening. But if you’re not, you probably shouldn’t have worn that dress in here. Jesus.”

  “What are you talking about?” Quinn asked.

  “Hey, why don’t you try to look at the woman already hanging all over you. You’ve got plenty to keep you busy,” Jessica said, physically pushing the face of a woman nearby away from Quinn.

  “And here I thought you weren’t flirting with me in my office,” Quinn said. She was amused at Jessica’s protection even if it was over the top.

  “I wasn’t,” Jessica said. “Still not. Doesn’t mean I want you to get mauled. Unless it’s by special invitation.”

  “So you’re playing bodyguard? Isn’t that going to get in the way of your quest?”

  “I can multitask.”

  “Okay, so let me understand. I’ve picked up an overprotective bodyguard because you think I can’t be trusted, or everyone else can’t, because of what I’m wearing? You know that doesn’t sound very good, right?” Jessica was starting to take her self-appointed protection detail a bit too far.

  “Not when you put it like that. I meant it as a compliment,” Jessica said.

  Jessica looked a little chagrined, so Quinn tried to soften her reproach. “Oh, I know. To be clear, if I find someone else to chaperone me, will you go and continue your quest?” Quinn wasn’t exactly eager to ditch Jessica, but she also didn’t need an escort around the club. She wanted to have fun tonight, and she wouldn’t if Jessica was worried about her the whole time.

  “Who’d you have in mind?” Jessica looked excited at the thought of Quinn joining in their fun.

  Quinn wasn’t about to tell her that wasn’t exactly what she’d been implying. She searched around and caught sight of a woman at the end of the bar.

  “Her.” She pointed. She’d chosen her at random, but now that she looked at her, her breath caught. She was in profile, but she was gorgeous. She was wearing dark skinny jeans and a black tank top. Her arms were muscled in a way Quinn hadn’t ever seen on a woman, but nothing about her looked masculine. She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that cascaded down her back. Quinn could tell she was tall, even though she was sitting, but it wasn’t her physical size that was taking up space across the bar. She just oozed a presence that radiated around her. When she picked up her glass and brought the drink, something amber on the rocks, to her lips, Quinn held her breath.

  “I don’t think…” Jessica started. Before she could finish, the woman turned and looked at them. She caught Quinn’s eye and slowly raised her glass in salute before turning back to the bar.

  “Yes,” Quinn said. “Her.” Before Jessica could object further, or Quinn could think about the fact that she usually sucked at picking up women, Quinn patted Jessica on the cheek and slipped past her. She moved through the crowd until she was standing next to the stranger at the bar.

  “Anyone sitting here?” she asked. It was difficult to hear over the loud music, but they were far enough away from the DJ and speaker that it was just manageable.

  The woman looked up and studied her. Her gaze was intense and it warmed Quinn’s face.

  “No,” she finally said, “I’ve been saving it for you.”

  Quinn laughed at the audacious comment. “Oh really? And how long have you been here saving my seat, Ms…?”

  “Lola. A couple hours. You should thank me. It’s been a tough job.”

  Lola was smiling too. Quinn liked her smile. Her eyes sparkled and her entire face relaxed and lit up when she did.

  “I’m Quinn. And since I just got here an hour ago, I’m calling bullshit on your seat saving, but thank you all the same for keeping it for me now. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Ouch,” Lola said. “You LA girls are rough.” She nodded her assent at Quinn’s offer and flagged the bartender.

  “Not from around here?” The thought was disappointing. Quinn didn’t know why it mattered if Lola was only here for a quick vacation stop. It’s not like she would see her again after tonight. She also didn’t intend on seeing her after leaving the club. Enjoy the moment.

  “Just flew in on Wednesday,” Lola said.

  “You just got here, somehow made it to one of the hottest clubs in the city, but are sitting at the bar alone?” Quinn was confused. Women who looked like Lola didn’t stay alone at clubs unless they wanted to.

  “I told you, I was saving the seat for you.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Before either of them could say anything else, Jessica’s friends surged out of the crowd and stumbled into Quinn.

  “Come dance with us, Quinny,” one of them said. They noticed Lola.

  “Who’s your new friend? Definitely bring her too.”

  “Do you dance?” Quinn asked Lola, already being pulled to the dance floor.

  “I do,” Lola said.

  Quinn liked the half smile playing on Lola’s face. She was clearly amused at Quinn’s losing battle to remain at the bar.

  “Join me?” Lola wasn’t giving off the receptive and open vibes, and Quinn really didn’t want to lose the small connection they had. She was beautiful and intriguing and just aloof enough that Quinn, in her slightly tipsy state, wanted more.

  “I’ll meet you out there,” Lola said.

  “I hope so,” Quinn said before giving in and being sucked back onto the dance floor. She figured Lola had just blown her off and that was the end of their time together. She realized too late she should have tried to get her number.

  After twenty minutes of dancing, Quinn figured Lola wasn’t going to join her. She’d gotten separated from Jessica’s friends, but had enjoyed dancing with the women around her. Despite Jessica’s warning, no one had seemed overwhelmed with the urge to get inappropriately handsy.

  As the thought crossed her mind, a hand wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her tightly to a solid body. A drink materialized on the other side of her. She took it, enjoying the attention. For someone who kept insisting she wasn’t flirting with her, Jessica was pretty good at flirting. If Jessica wasn’t careful, Quinn would start enjoying it, if for no other reason than it was nice to be looked after. She turned around in Jessica’s arms to tell her that. When she did, she nearly crashed into Lola’s chin. Now that she was standing, Quinn realized she was about six inches taller than her own five feet seven inches. She had to step back half a step to see Lola’s face. That meant that Lola’s arms were wrapped around her back, instead of loosely at her sides. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like the way it felt. A lot.

  “You’re not Jessica,” Quinn said lamely.

  “Are you disappointed? Should I go?” Lola asked. She leaned in close to Quinn, her breath tickling her neck as she spoke.

  Quinn felt as if Lola’s breath tripped a switch that caused a chain reaction across her skin. She was pleasantly on fire.

  “You did ask me to dance.”

  Quinn shook her head, suddenly aware they were standing the middle of the dance floor, the only two not dancing. She felt awkward. She’d been dancing without a problem, but now, encircled in Lola’s arms, she didn’t quite remember what to do.

  Lola seemed to pick up on her uncertainty. She took Quinn’s hand and led her a few feet away, as if a change of scenery would solve the problem.

  When they stopped, Lola leaned in close again. “Dance with me?”

  Quinn nodded again. She took a sip of her drink, found a place to put it down, and took a step away from Lola. She crooked her finger and gave a small smirk, indicating she should follow. She started moving her hips in time with the music and waited for Lola to move with her.

  Maybe it was because she was half a drink past buzzed, or maybe it was the assumptions she’d made about Lola by the cocky way she filled up space at the bar, but Quinn soon became frustrated on the dance floor. Lola was a very good dancer and wasn’t passive, but she was being too damn respectful, chivalrous even. Quinn felt like they were at a middle school square dance. She’d waited as long as she was wi
lling for Lola to make a move, and she was done waiting.

  When the next song started, she moved into Lola’s personal space and ground her hips against her lightly. She ran her hands through Lola’s hair, mostly just to get her attention. Judging by the look on Lola’s face, it seemed to have done the trick. “Are you scared of me?”

  “Not especially,” Lola said.

  “Then do you want to explain why you’re dancing three feet away from me?”

  For a split second, Quinn thought she saw uncertainty in Lola’s eyes, but she didn’t have a chance to explore it further before it was gone. Lola wrapped her arms around Quinn, forcing their bodies even more tightly together. Quinn groaned as Lola’s thigh found its way between hers. Lola moved her hands down Quinn’s back to her ass, moving them both in time to the music, keeping a steady, tantalizing pressure.

  “Is this your way of saying be careful what I wish for?” Quinn said. She bit down lightly on Lola’s ear.

  “No,” Lola said.

  She leaned in to Quinn’s teasing and Quinn barely stifled a groan.

  “It’s my way of telling you how sexy you are.”

  “Oh.” It could have been a practiced line, but if it was, it was delivered with such earnestness, it took Quinn’s breath away.

  Lola leaned down and kissed along her jawline, her lips brushing so lightly it took Quinn a moment to realize what she was doing. Once she did, it was all she could feel. Lola’s lips were soft and gentle, but there was nothing gentle about the way Quinn’s heart pounded at the attention.

  She spun in Lola’s arms and ground her ass into Lola with the music, tilting her head to the side, giving Lola better access to her neck. When Lola took full advantage, Quinn leaned back into her, reaching an arm up behind her, curling her hand behind Lola’s head, tangling her fingers in Lola’s hair.

  Seeming to enjoy the new position, Lola threaded one hand tightly around Quinn’s waist, holding her in place. She let her other hand wander down Quinn’s side, past her hip, and down her thigh. It felt like Lola was touching her everywhere. She felt more drunk from the feel of Lola’s caress than from anything she’d consumed from the bar. God, she feels good.

 

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