by D. B. James
For once in my life, I’m putting myself first—at least for a few hours.
Did I ever mention thirteen is my lucky number? Call me odd, I couldn’t care less. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a million times: I’m weird. Thirteen has been and always will be my lucky number, my ace in the hole.
The day in the fourth grade when I started taking the candy to make friends? September thirteenth.
When did I experience my first kiss? When I was thirteen.
Pitched my first strikeout? Also when I was thirteen.
My first blowjob? Happened on a Friday the thirteenth.
The day I passed the bar exam? On the thirteenth.
Bought my house? You guessed it, signed the papers on the thirteenth.
When I scheduled today’s meeting, I didn’t know the date offhand, didn’t know it fell on the thirteenth until I was boarding the plane yesterday, on my way to California. My nerves chose not to listen to me about my lucky number, and I let them get the best of me. I let them convince me Martinelli would make it hard for me to leave, but he’s not the monster I need to be concerned with—not anymore.
Maybe if I had met Smith today, on an actual thirteenth, I wouldn’t have beaten him unconscious, broken his bones, and left him for dead. If it had been on my lucky number day, he wouldn’t have told me about raping someone, and the man he wanted me to beat even though he was barely alive? He wouldn’t have been as bad off.
I firmly believe in the power of my lucky number thirteen.
Taking a deep breath, I briskly walk through the airport, but not toward the rental cars where I would normally go. This time I walk straight to the passenger pickup area and search for a shining blue beauty driven by the most stunning woman I’ve had the pleasure of ever laying eyes upon.
She doesn’t know I know about her plan. She sent me a quick text before my flight left LAX saying she’d be picking me up. Playing along, I simply replied with ‘okay’. Once the plane was taxiing at O’Hare, I powered up my phone and called her. She’s here and has been circling the airport for the last twenty minutes. Is it mean of me to like the fact that she’s had to circle a few times due to security not letting her park to wait for me for longer than a minute at a time? It makes me laugh thinking of her driving in circles.
Walking out into the windy Chicago air, I spot a glimpse of blue about a block down the street, slowly making its way toward me. The sneaky witch did manage to get Mystique out. I’ll have to think of a way to make Brant pay for this more than he already has. He knows how much Mystique means to me.
When she pulls up in front of me, the smile beaming my way makes me forget all my words. She believes she’s pulled the rug out from under me when I’ve known about her scheme all day now.
“Hop on in, sexy.” Her voice is all breathy and flirty at the same time.
Shaking my head no, I instead walk over to the driver’s side door. “Scoot your sexy ass over, Tiger Lily. I’m driving now.”
“Nah, I’m good with driving. Walk on back to the other side and get in, Reese’s Pieces.” I can feel her eyes on me, even if her sunglasses are hiding them from my view. Her gaze is devouring me.
“Nope. Scoot over. Besides, you don’t know where we’re going, and I do. You’re lucky I’m not yelling about you stealing my car in the first place. Now that I think about it, maybe I should yell for the officer standing over there”—I point to the policeman directing traffic—“and have him arrest you for car theft right now.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” I stand there with the driver’s side door open, waiting for her to move her ass over. “You have until I count to five, baby, or else. One…”
“Rhys, don’t. I’m moving, I’m moving.”
“Two… Three… Four…”
As I’m saying four, she slides over and buckles her seatbelt, letting out a huff of defeat.
“I win, babe.”
“Pffft whatever, I totally won because I managed to pull this off effectively. My goal was to surprise you by driving your precious Mystique to pick you up, and I did. Boom, I win.”
“I hate to break it to you, but my mom told me this morning when I called her. Granted, she didn’t know what Mystique was, and she wasn’t aware she was ratting you out, but still, I knew about it before you even left this morning, which makes me the winner.”
She knows she’s lost and may as well acknowledge her defeat.
“Nah, I’m still calling it a win. Wanna know why?” The grin she sends my way is contagious, and hot as hell.
“I’ll take the bait. Why?” Little does she know, I’ll gladly give her this win. If it will get her to move in with me for her protection, I’ll give her anything. Any-frickin’-thing.
“Because this beauty—Mystique, as you call her—she drives like a dream, and it just so happens she let me get all the way to third base. And boy does she…purrrr.”
The way she rolls her R’s makes it sound like she’s purring, instantly making me think of her naked beneath me, making the same exact sound.
“I agree, she does indeed purr. Explain what you mean by third base.”
“Buy a girl some real Chicago pizza before we head home and I’ll explain exactly what I mean.”
“Baby, I was already going to take you for dinner. We’re not going home tonight. While you were making plans to steal my car, I was making plans for you, for us.”
“Rhys, I have a store to run. I can’t possibly stay overnight.”
I’ve taken it all into my own hands; she has nothing to worry about. The favor Brant owed me for letting her steal Mystique? He has the pleasure of informing Tessa of this last-minute impromptu getaway. His only mission is to convince her to open and run the store for a few hours tomorrow morning. I’m sure she’ll have no problem with it, but she is technically on vacation.
“It’s all taken care of. Brant has assured me all the details are handled. There are some heavy issues I need to speak with you about tonight and I didn’t want to be interrupted or distracted, so staying overnight seemed like the best option. If you truly feel like you should go manage your store, we can go.”
Stay, with me. Give me tonight.
If she knew how badly we needed to have this talk, she wouldn’t hesitate for one second to stay. She’d stay without question. Sadly, she doesn’t know me as well as she once did. The days of staying out late, running around catching fireflies in our bare feet are gone. We’re no longer children, facing the problems of children.
“Fine. We can stay the night. I trust you to have taken care of everything. Since the tone of your voice is practically pleading with me to say yes, we’ll stay.”
“Good. Thank you.” Taking my right hand off the wheel, I gently grab her hand and thread our fingers together. “I had planned on taking you out for a nice dinner, but if pizza is what you want, pizza you shall have.”
“Yes, I’ve been craving cheesy goodness for days. Days, Rhys. Since I’ve never experienced a real Chicago pizza, I’d like nothing more than to change that. Take me to the best pizza joint in town.”
Thirty minutes later we’re pulling into a parking lot two blocks south of Gino’s East. My girl requested the best Chicago style pizza, and she’s going to get the greatest Chicago pizza. Hands down, without a doubt, it’s Gino’s. Any time I can pull it off, I manage to stop by one of their locations to either dine in or take out. It’s a Chicago staple. Some people come for the shopping, some folks to hear the blues, others for the culture, and then there are the ones who come for the food.
Those people flock to Gino’s and its numerous locations.
I’d arranged to take her someplace with more ambience, a place a tad more upscale, but she has proven to me yet again that she doesn’t need the finer things in life. She may like them, but it’s not a necessity. She’s the type of chick who’d rather have a beer and watch a baseball game. She always has been. Her clothes may have changed, but deep down she’s a
tomboy at heart, just like always.
After parking Mystique and paying for five hours of parking, we make our way out onto the busy city sidewalks.
“Why did you pay for five hours?”
“Because where we’re going to eat is half a block off the Magnificent Mile, and we’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?” She stops mid-step and looks me up and down. “You’re taking me shopping? Rhys Gallhagar is willing to take me shopping?” She questions me as if this wouldn’t be an everyday occurrence for me. She’s right, maybe it isn’t, but it’s not like I don’t like to shop. I do…sometimes.
Maybe I did have a pair of boxer briefs stuck to me the last time I did go shopping, but she doesn’t need to know about that. No one does. It’s one secret I’ll take to the grave—unless of course there’s video evidence and it somehow ends up online.
“I’ll let you in on a little-known secret. Come a bit closer.” I pull her into my side, brush back a few locks of her mahogany hair, and whisper into her ear, “I like to shop.” Before letting her pull away, giving her the distance she seems to think she needs, I place a kiss upon her cheek.
“Uh, are we…uh, getting separate hotel rooms tonight? Or am I going to wake up in your arms again like I did yesterday morning?” she inquires shyly.
“It’s entirely up to you, whatever you feel comfortable with. We can share a room if you like. If after you hear what all I have to say and you change your mind about sharing a bed with me, I’ll get you a separate room. The night is in your hands.”
I’ll be a lucky son of a bitch if she still wants to share a bed with me after she hears everything, but like I said, it’s up to her. Her moving in, on the other hand, isn’t. I will convince her. It’s for her own safety. If I have to go into the store with her every single day until Smith is out of the picture, I will. If it comes down to extreme measures, they will be taken.
“We can share. I’ll admit I liked waking up with you—maybe a bit too much, especially given my past. Over the last few days, to me you’ve come to scream safe.”
Her words give me pause. She feels safe with me. Today’s the thirteenth and she feels safe with me. I’m choosing to see those signs as good omens.
She will be okay with my past.
She will understand.
She’ll still want to try with me.
Right?
After dinner, we wander through store, after store, after store, and not once do I complain—though I certainly want to. I’m tired as hell and feel like passing out. My lack of sleep the night before and the flights are catching up with me—and to think, I still have to talk with her.
Passing by a coffee shop, I motion for us to go inside.
“I need coffee. It’s either have some caffeine or pass out from exhaustion.”
She takes one glance at me and can see I’m telling her the truth. I’m dead tired.
“We can head to the hotel. Do you have one booked already?”
The answer would be no, I didn’t book one in advance. It’s Chicago; there’ll be a hotel room available. It may be expensive, but we’ll find one.
“No, I didn’t book one. We can go back to Mystique and drive to see if there are any rooms at a few places down the road. I still need a coffee though. We have to talk tonight.”
“You could wait here and drink your coffee while I run and get Mystique,” she offers.
It’s a tempting offer, and since she did get Mystique here in one piece without any visible scratches, dents, or a speeding ticket, I’m this close to saying yes. I would—if it weren’t dark and we weren’t in the city.
“As wonderful as your offer sounds, I’m going to decline—but not for the reasons you think. It’s for your safety.”
Sighing, she relents and proceeds to walk into the coffee shop. Pouting, she gets in line and says, “I really do love driving Mystique.”
Standing behind her, I knead her shoulders while assuring her she can drive Mystique again in the future. “I promise you’ll drive her again, just not tonight.”
“Fine. Let’s get your coffee and find a hotel. I’m curious to find out what’s important enough that you arranged to have Tessa open my store.”
She has the important thing right, though life-altering is more like it.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Yes, I will.”
We don’t speak another word to each other as the line moves along. We place our orders, wait for our coffees, link hands, and continue to walk back toward the parking garage, content enough with each other not to talk. She’s perfect.
The first hotel we stop at is completely booked, as is the second…and the third. By the time we pull up to the fourth, we have both lost faith in finding a hotel close enough to where I wouldn’t have to drive much before being able to rest.
To be honest, I am this close to giving up and driving toward home.
The only reason I don’t is…it’s the thirteenth.
“Why don’t you wait in the car? I’ll run in real fast and see what they have available.” Why should we both get out if it’s a lost cause?
“Okay, I can take over driving if you like. We can head toward home, stop at a hotel along the way. You could rest for a while until we stop.”
“It’s like you can read my mind. Let’s call it plan B, and we can use it if this hotel doesn’t have a room. I’ll be right back.”
The doorman has to run to open the door for me. I’m walking fast, because I’m damn tired of running into hotels to check for a damn room. Averill’s offer sounds more and more appealing with each step I take. Nodding his way to convey my thanks, I keep walking straight to the front desk.
“May I help you?” asks the young kid behind the counter.
“Please tell me you have a room available.”
“We’re actually all booked up, except for our honeymoon suite. If you don’t mind having the suite, it’s open.”
You have got to be shitting me. The honeymoon suite. If I book it, Averill may take it as a sign. She may think I’m expecting more from her. She knows I am, knows my hopes for the future, but I don’t want to push her too fast.
“Give me a minute, I’m going to check with my”—what the hell do I call her?— “girlfriend out in the car to see if it’s okay with her.”
“Sure, no problem. If you think she’s going to agree, I can start the check-in process. Leave your driver’s license and a credit card with me and I’ll get a head start on it.”
“How much is the suite?” Money isn’t an issue, but I should still check.
“Well, it’s the honeymoon suite, but since it’s the only room open for the night, I can offer it at a discount. Normally it’d go for $429 a night, but I’ll give it to you for $229 plus tax.”
I’m too tired to argue with Averill about the room. If she has a problem with it, she can take it out on me tomorrow, or I can let her drive Mystique all the way home.
“Screw it, book it. If she’s bothered about the room, she’s bothered. I’m too exhausted to travel any farther.” Tossing him my I.D. and credit card, I walk back outside to inform her we have a room for the night. I’ll valet Mystique for the night as well, though the thought of someone else driving her makes me break out in hives.
Walking around to the driver’s side where Averill has taken over, I open her door. “Hop on out sweetness, we have a room. Please don’t be upset with me, but it’s the honeymoon suite. It was the only room left and the kid gave us a steep discount.”
Instead of being mad like I thought she would, she bursts out laughing. “Oh, Rhys, it’s priceless, don’t you think?” Getting out of the car, she keeps laughing as she walks ahead of me, into the hotel. “We’ve barely been on two dates and we’re already staying in the honeymoon suite. If our friends could see us now.”
“Averill?”
“Yes?”
“One day, I will change your last name. I’ll give you all my love, every night and day. If yo
u say I can, I will change your name. I have faith in us. Since the day I met you way back in the fourth grade, I knew. Waking up to your beautiful smile the other day sealed it for me.”
It’s the truth. I’ve been half in love with her for most of my life. She was always the one that slipped away.
She’s stunned into silence. All she does is stare at me.
“Wow, if you don’t marry him someday, I will. Bravo, Mr. Gallhagar. Bravo.” This comes from the front desk clerk.
“Promise to say all those words again when I’m ready to hear them.”
“If you still want to hear them after learning everything, I promise to say them when you’re ready to hear them.”
I silently vow to myself to always tell her I love her, at least twice a day. It’s enough for now, and one day she’ll be ready to hear it.
Once we get up to the suite, she immediately closes herself in the bathroom. I know my words downstairs scared her, but it’s only the beginning of things to come tonight.
When she was looking at shoes in one of the multiple stores we browsed in this evening, I purchased a few items I thought she might need. Knocking on the bathroom door, I hang the bag on the outside door handle.
“I bought you something. It’s hanging on the handle of the door. I thought you may like it for tonight,” I inform her and walk away, farther into the suite.
This hotel, man, it’s really pulling out all the gaudy outlandish things it can think of and compiling them into this room. The walls are a shockingly bright bubblegum pink, and instead of screaming love, to me it screams neon pink nightmare. The bed is covered in red silk, which actually does look quite comfortable. Besides the walls, the tackiest thing in the room is the champagne glass-shaped hot tub. Why would someone see a need for such a thing? Why not a normal hot tub?
I’m still staring at the atrocious thing when Averill exits the bathroom, wearing the simple white cotton pajamas I got for her.