We walked over to the refrigerator and he opened it and peered in. “I have beer, wine coolers, soda and bottled water.”
“Better go with the bottled water,” I replied.
He handed me a water bottle and grabbed a beer for himself. We opened our drinks and then he tapped his beer bottle to my water bottle as if he was toasting. “To new adventures with new neighbors. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I said and took a swig of the cold water. I quickly took a few more sips not realizing how thirsty I actually was.
“So, what brings you to Florida?” Eddie asked.
I wasn’t sure how much of my personal saga I wanted to reveal. “I wanted to escape the Midwest winters,” I said, which was partially true. I really wanted to escape my ex-fiancé and all of the pain from our break-up.
“A Midwest girl,” he said as studied me. “I’ve heard that girls from the Midwest have a bit of a wild streak. Is that true?”
“Not in my case,” I said.
He was still staring into my eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
I gulped. I tried to think of all the horrible things I had planned to associate with him but nothing came to mind. Shit. The only thing I could think about was him kissing me with his beautiful mouth. And touching me, everywhere, his rough hands on every part of my body.
He took a swig of beer, then leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “It’s possible that you haven’t found someone to bring out your wild streak. At least, not yet. I may have to put that theory to a test.”
Holy shit. I had never felt so much magnetism and raw sexuality exuding from another person in my entire life. If I didn’t make a quick escape, I would probably be in his bed naked in a matter of minutes. I didn’t want any wake and Eddie was a raging storm, maybe even a tsunami.
“Thanks for the water,” I said placing the nearly empty bottle on his counter. “I’ve really got to go. I’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do and I need to get the truck returned.”
“I could ride up there with you when you return the truck and give you a lift back,” he offered.
“That’s okay,” I said, trying my best not to look into his blazing brown eyes. “You’ve already done so much. Besides, the guys at the rental place said it’s not far from here and I can probably walk. It’ll be a good way for me to get to know the neighborhood.”
“It is a nice walk,” he said. “Catch you later.”
“Thanks, again,” I said as I hurried out the door. I swear I could hear him give a few chuckles as I closed the door behind me.
TWO
Angle of Attack
Monday came too quickly. My weekend was absorbed with cleaning my new place, spackling and painting, bathroom grout repairs, unpacking and multiple trips to Target and the grocery store. I was relieved when I didn’t run into Eddie again and I assumed he and his roommate were busy doing whatever it is that kite surfers spend their weekends doing.
A few times I was tempted to put a glass to the wall to see if I could hear any signs of a dog on their side of the duplex but then I realized how stupid of an idea it was. He was probably kidding when he said they might have a dog. I thought he might say just anything to get a rise out of me.
As I looked at the clothes in my wardrobe, I wondered what the dress code was for people in southern Florida. Not that mental health counselors were known for their styling sense of fashion. Plus, it was always so hot, so panty hose were probably not required. I felt kind of weird wearing a short skirt with my legs exposed. I thought about dress slacks and a blouse but most of my things were geared toward Midwest weather. I sensed a trip to the mall to buy some new outfits was definitely going to top my list for the following weekend.
I grabbed the lightest summer pants I owned and paired them with a white satiny blouse. Most of my shoes were heavy and dark. They didn’t seem appropriate for the Florida sunshine. I grabbed my lone pair of open-toed shoes and put them on. I looked at myself in the full length mirror I had just purchased the previous day.
I sighed. “It will have to do,” I told myself. Now that I was starting a new life in Florida, I felt like I wanted a new look. Add a haircut and make-over to the list of weekend activities, I thought.
I was fortunate to have secured a position as an outpatient mental health counselor, a nearly identical position to the one I had been doing with my previous employer in my hometown. My first boss hired me right about of graduate school and he always praised me for being a model employee and skilled therapist. He had a friend, who was the director of a large mental health services program in Florida. When I told my boss I was thinking about moving half-way across the country, he phoned his friend, and the man hired me by phone on my boss’s recommendation. Obviously, I wanted to do my best not to disappoint my new supervisor.
When I arrived at my new place of employment, I was impressed with the state-of-the-art facility. I had viewed their website dozens of times and memorized as much as I could about the place. Not only did they have outpatient mental health treatment services for youths and adults, they had day treatment and residential programs as well. It was quite an elaborate operation. The campus where the facilities were housed was immaculate with beautiful landscaping and sleek modern buildings. I was nearly giddy that the sidewalks were lined with palm trees and a pond in the center of the campus was filled with ducks. The benches that surrounded the small pond looked so inviting I knew immediately where I would be spending my lunch hours.
When I entered the main administrative building, I stopped at the front desk.
“How can I help you?” I young Asian American woman sitting at the front desk asked politely. I noticed she was wearing an ID badge that indicated her name was Lily Lee. She looked to be about my age, mid-twenties, with perfect features and a lovely smile. I was immediately jealous of the woman’s hair, so sleek and elegant. I had spent my life with a mop of curly brown hair and the fact that my mom always referred to my hair as a rat’s nest didn’t make me feel any better about it.
“My name is Alexandria Wilkens,” I said. “I’m a new employee.”
“Of course,” Lily said. “Tom Barrett, the Clinical Director, is waiting to see you.” She pointed toward a corridor on her right. “Just go down the hallway and his office door is at the very end. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” I said.
As I hurried down the hallway, I glanced at my watch. It was only 8:45. I thought I remembered Tom telling me I needed to be in by nine every morning. I hoped I hadn’t been mistaken. That’s all I needed: to be late on my first day.
I knocked a few times on the door with Tom’s nameplate on it.
“Come in,” I heard through the door, so I opened it tentatively.
“Good morning, Mr. Barrett.” I realized that we had only spoken on the phone when he interviewed me and wondered if it was possible that he remembered my voice.
“You must be Alexandria,” he said as he smiled up at me. When he rose from the chair, he extended a hand for me to shake. I did.
“Everyone calls me Lexie,” I said.
Tom Barrett was tall, probably six feet three, and lanky. He had wavy red hair and freckles and his appearance kind of reminded me of that old-time marionette, Howdy Doody.
“Please, have a seat,” he said. He sat back down in his chair and I took a seat on the other side of his desk. “First off, Lexie, please call me Tom. No need for formalities here. We’re all like one big family.”
Tom seemed genuine and I was immediately put at ease. He continued, “Are you all settled in at your new place?”
I nodded. I didn’t want to burden him with the fact that I had rented a dump and was living next door to surfer boys, one of whom made me extremely nervous. I hadn’t even met his roommate yet.
He grinned. “Florida takes some getting used to. I don’t know if Mitch told you, but I’m originally from the Midwest, too.”
Mitch was my old boss, who got me the job with Tom. “No, Mitch didn’t me
ntion it,” I said. Not that he ever would have. Mitch was a terrific boss but not a man of many words.
“He’s still all work and no play, I guess.”
I smiled and nodded.
Tom leaned back in his chair and threw his hands behind his head. “So what do you like to read?” he asked.
The question took me off guard. “A lot of different things,” I replied, unsure of the type of answer he was looking for. As a bookworm, I usually read several books a week.
“What was the last book you read?” he asked.
I had to think about it for a minute. “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I actually read the whole trilogy.”
He sat back up and his gaze narrowed a bit. “You can tell a lot about a person by the books he or she chooses to read.”
I wondered what that choice of reading material said about me. I hoped he didn’t think I was anything like Lisbeth Salander.
“And what was the last book you read?” I ventured.
“Harry Potter. The whole series. What do you think that says about me?”
I thought about it for a moment. “That you have a seven year old son?” It wasn’t too much of a stretch. There was a huge framed photograph of a woman, who was presumably his wife and a little boy, who looked just like him, displayed prominently on his desk.
“Good guess,” he said. “My son just turned eight.”
Tom stood up and I followed suit. “I’m glad you decided to join the team,” he said. “I think you’ll fit in just fine. Now let me show you to your new office.”
***
By the time the gal from Computer Services set up my laptop and a man from Human Resources helped me fill out a mountain of new employee paperwork, it was nearly time for lunch. I hadn’t yet met any of the other counselors and wasn’t sure about the lunch protocol (if there was any), so I decided to hang low until I could ferret out some information.
My laptop binged and I saw a meeting request come through from Tom for the weekly clinical staff meeting, which I accepted. When I glanced back up, I noticed a tall guy standing in front of my desk, which startled me.
“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
When he grinned, the tall guy’s face lit up the room. He wasn’t someone I would have immediately said was gorgeous, but he was ruggedly handsome and had interesting features. He seemed to be around my age, maybe a year or two older. I’d describe him to someone as a young Daniel Craig. He was wearing khaki pants and a button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His clothes fit his muscular body well. It was obvious he was athletic or at least very physically active.
“I wasn’t expecting to see anyone standing at my desk,” I said.
“Get used to it,” he said as he held out his hand. “I’m Daniel O’Grady. I’m one of the intake specialists. I’ll be referring clients to you on a daily basis.”
“I’m Lexie Wilkins,” I said.
When I took Daniel’s hand, I was surprised how rough and callused it was. Not something I expected from a man with a desk job. Not that I had much experience touching men’s hands. The only one I had touched for any length of time was my ex fiancé’s and he had the smooth and delicate hands of a surgeon. A lying, cheating asshole of a surgeon, but a surgeon nonetheless.
The roughness and calluses felt familiar. But why? I couldn’t put my finger on it. (Pun definitely intended.) Then I remembered Eddie. How could I forget? His hand felt the same way when I shook it. I wondered if it could have been a coincidence. I never liked coincidences.
Daniel’s eyes locked with mine and we held each other’s gaze a little too long. I could certainly get used to seeing his face on a daily basis, I thought, preferably in my bedroom.
What the hell? Where did that thought come from? So much for my fresh start in Florida man-free. And what about my no wake zone? Daniel was definitely someone I would like to make waves with… Shit. Why was it so difficult to keep my mind off of men?
Daniel finally let go of my hand and gave an uncomfortable little cough. “So,” he said. “You seem a little young to be a Master’s level therapist.”
I got that a lot. I didn’t look my age, but I had worked hard to earn my graduate degree right out of college in order to establish a career.
“I’m twenty-five,” I said.
“I admire your determination and tenacity,” he said. “I’m twenty-seven and I’m still working on my Master’s degree. I had to take classes at night and online, when I could. Now I’m trying to accumulate internship hours in the evening, in addition to my fulltime job. It’s not easy.”
“Grad school is never easy,” I said.
He nodded. “I’d better get back to work. I just wanted to introduce myself.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I said before he made his way out the door.
“Sure,” he said as he turned back to face me. “What’s up?”
“What do employees usually do for lunch?”
He gave me another glowing smile. “I think I’d rather show you.”
Daniel took me to a lovely cafeteria that was already crowded when we arrived. “Most of the employees eat here,” he said. “Clients in our residential programs work here and prepare most of the food, so the meals are inexpensive, and they’re pretty good.”
It smelled good. The aroma of garlic and pasta sauce filled the air. It made me miss home. My mother cooked pasta every Sunday night for our family.
“Would you like to join me for lunch?” Daniel asked. I could see a bit of apprehension in his eyes.
When I said, “I’d love to,” the uneasiness lifted from his features.
We both got big bowls of angel hair pasta with spicy marinara sauce and lemonades and Daniel led us to a small table in a far corner of the cafeteria that was a bit secluded.
“So, what brings you to Florida, if you don’t mind my asking?” Daniel said.
“How did you guess that I’m not from Florida?” I asked.
“You don’t have a tan,” he said and grinned. He had the most gorgeous smile and his ocean blue eyes seemed to dance whenever he looked at me.
As I looked at him more closely, I noticed his bronzed skin. He must get out in the sun quite a bit, I thought. That would also explain why his dark blond hair looked like it had highlights.
“I didn’t get outside much when I lived in the Midwest,” I said looking down at my pale arms.
“That’s definitely going to change. Floridians live outdoors.”
“I’m looking forward to a change,” I said. In more ways than I was willing to admit to Daniel.
He put his fork in his pasta and stirred the sauce around a bit. “I moved to Florida because I needed a change,” he said. “Hard to believe that was almost five years ago. I’m originally from Pennsylvania.”
“Illinois,” I said. “My whole family still lives there. I’m guess that makes me a bit of a maverick.”
“You moved here by yourself?” He seemed a little surprised by the prospect.
I nodded. “Just me.”
He gave me another one of his bright smiles. This time I could feel my heart tremble a bit, which surprised me. He wasn’t in any way the type of guy I would normally be attracted to. I usually went for the dark haired pretty boys not rugged light haired guys.
“I’m very impressed,” he said. “I would never have had the courage to move across the country by myself.”
I could feel my face fall a bit. I wondered if that meant he had moved here with a significant other. I suddenly had no idea why I had assumed he was single.
As if he could read my thoughts, he said, “I moved here with my roommate from college. We share a place.”
Good. Single. I breathed a small sigh of relief.
“You’d better eat your pasta before it gets cold,” he said. “I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
He took a bite of his pasta and I tried mine. “This is good,” I
said. “Thanks for the recommendation.”
When we met each other’s gaze again, my breath caught. I could stare into his dazzling blue eyes for days.
“I hope you’ll join me for lunch again, if you’d like the company.” Once again, I got the feeling he was unsure of himself. I didn’t know why. He was definitely attractive.
“I’d love to have lunch with you again,” I said. “Just let me know when.”
He gave me another grin and we dug into our pasta.
***
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. All I could think about was getting into my sweatpants and a tee shirt, flopping on the couch and reading a book. My idea of Heaven on Earth.
I got changed in record time, and I put my unruly hair into a messy ponytail. I was just about to flop on the couch when I heard a knock on the door. Who would be knocking on my door, I wondered. Maybe Hans needed to tell me something about the apartment.
Before I barely got the door opened, Eddie from next door, barged in carrying two beer bottles. Ugh. I opened my mouth to protest but he made himself comfortable on my couch and said, “So, what are we watching on TV tonight?”
I stood there, mouth agape, glaring at Eddie. It was difficult for me to believe his complete and utter audacity. “First of all, I wasn’t planning on watching television. I’m in the middle of a good book that I’d like to finish. And second of all, I don’t remember inviting you over.”
He looked at me with a glimmer in his eyes. “So, you’re a brainiac? That’s cool. It’s been a while since I’ve hooked up with a smart chick.”
If it was physically possible, steam would have been blasting from my ears, I was so angry. I loved to read and I always did well in school, so kids teased me. Brainiac was a term I heard a lot. I hated it. And he had a lot of nerve assuming he was going to ‘hook up’ with me. Sure, he was gorgeous and sexy as hell, but I’m not that easy.
“Don’t you have a roommate to entertain you?” I asked.
“Danny-O is working a double shift.” Eddie made no attempt to move from my couch.
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