by Pavan Kaur
Leo
“See you in an hour,” I tell John as I walk away from the car. I have breakfast plans with Jackson before I look through the pitch my dad was talking about. Even last night that was all my dad kept talking to me about, and how if we gave it a chance it would be really good. It's something for women, and as crazy as it is, it's easier to sell to them; in my opinion, men are wiser with the purchase decisions they make. So I thought fine, he seems to really want me to read it, so I will.
I walk over to where Jackson is sitting and look at the place he’s picked. He assures me this is the best place to get a good American pancake. As I’m standing by Jackson, one of the waitresses catches my attention— and I’m not a man that gets stopped in my tracks ever. But this girl… I’ve not even seen her face yet, but there’s something pulling me to her. I even feel my body being drawn towards her.
I watch as she moves around the restaurant not once looking up; she’s moving around like she knows where every table and chair is. She’s hiding her face away by looking at the floor, her long black hair falling over her shoulders to cover her from the outside world. She’s trying to make herself invisible, but I see her.
“Who are you watching?” Jackson asks as I finally sit down in front of him.
I choose not to answer his question.
"How long you been coming here?" I try to stop myself from looking at her again.
“Yesterday was my first time, but the food is amazing.” He hands me a menu. “I’m trying the waffles today.” He says as he peers down at his menu.
I glance down to see what I want, but I turn my head slightly to the left as the girl cleans the table next to us. If she would move some of her hair, I could see her face, but she doesn't. She's still hiding and doing a good job of it too. Her body looks thin, and I can see a slight rash on her wrists. She walks away, and I can't take my eyes off her. I want to see her face. Just as she is about to go into the back, the tray falls to the floor, causing everyone to stare at her. I can see her body tense up a little; she knows that everyone is watching her. Keeping her gaze on the floor, she lets more of her hair fall in front of her face so no one can see her.
I watch a man walking over to her; I can't hear what he's saying, but he doesn't look happy about her accident with the tray. The girl keeps her eyes down and doesn't look once at the man. What is she hiding from? And why can't I stop watching her?
A waitress walks over to us. “Hi, can I take your order?”
Jackson tells her he wants a coffee and waffles and then she looks over at me. “I want to know her name.” I nod to the girl behind her as she’s on her knees picking up the broken plates from the floor.
“That’s Hope, keeps to herself really.” The waitress looks over her shoulder at her. “We’ve tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t interact. Just cleans tables, goes home, then comes back for the evening shift.”
"I'll have the pancakes and some coffee," I tell the waitress, handing her the menu. When she's gone, I take my phone out as it beeps. I shake my head. "Dad again, telling me to read the pitch."
I see Jackson watching me, then glancing over at the girl. “Not like you to be so interested in someone.” He turns back to me and his eyes narrow. “For someone who can get any girl in New York, you’re watching a girl that you can’t even really see.”
As the girl walks into the back, I glance over at Jackson. “I don’t want any girl in New York. In fact, I don't want any girl. Fuck ‘em and leave, no questions no drama," I tell him. I'm not a man that craves sex; I don't need to fuck a girl every day, or every week. When I need to let off some steam I'll go to the bar, find a girl, fuck her and leave, then I'm good to go until I need it again. "I'm not like you, needing a different girl in bed every night."
He laughs. “I know that you like to let out your tension in a different way and I’m all for it, you know I am. But maybe a girl…”
“Have you found him?” I ask changing the subject. I don’t want a girl. They would only have questions; questions that are none of their business.
“No. You’ll know as soon as I do. ” We give the waitress a nod as she places down our food and pours the coffee. “He’s not the easiest person to find, but I’m looking into another one who got out of prison last week.” Jackson’s phone lights up. I know that he has a meeting this afternoon. He’s my lawyer but has a few other clients.
He knows about the killings so if anything does happen to get fucked up, I have him backing me, and he'll fix things for me.
I finish my breakfast. I have to say that it was really good, but I’m not going to tell Jackson he was right. He can do without me inflating his ego any further. I look over to the door and see Hope walking out with her coat on.
"I know that look, don't," Jackson tells me. He means the look that shows I want to get answers. Fuck knows what it is about her, but I need to know who she's hiding from. Maybe it's because I can feel the fear radiating from her. She is very closed off, whichever angle you look at her, you can't see her. She knows how to hide in plain sight; one thing I can tell about her is that she has been hiding for a long time.
Throwing some money on the table, I tell him, “Shut up, or come with me.” I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and follow her out.
“Can’t believe…”
"Shut up," I tell him again to stop him from pissing me off more. We follow Hope to wherever she's going and again, her head is down, and she's walking around people. She's avoiding obstacles and benches like she has done this a thousand times before. "Doesn't it look like she's hiding?" I ask Jackson as he lights up a cigarette and hands it over to me.
“The fact that she hasn’t looked up from the ground once? I would say so.”
She walks into CVS, and I watch her through the window as I smoke. I don't want her to see me, so I stay back. Even though she didn't look up once at the restaurant, I have a feeling that she takes in all her surroundings. I watch her at the counter, and I feel something is wrong. She looks up at the woman behind the desk for the first time, but I still can't see her face. She moves to the side as the person behind her says something and then she sits on the floor and starts counting her money. I see her hand move to her face, she’s trying to work it all out.
“What the fuck is she buying, that needs so much money?” Jackson asks the same question that I’m asking myself. Whatever she’s buying, she has just spent all the money she had, as I watch her pulling out money from all the pockets from her ripped up coat.
Once she’s given the money to the woman behind the counter, the assistant passes her the bag which Hope grabs from her hand. It looks as though the bag is full of medication. She exits the pharmacy and continues to walk up the road and instead of following her, I walk into CVS.
"What are you doing?" Jackson hisses, but I ignore him. He really is like the angel and devil on my shoulder sometimes.
Walking up to the counter I ask the assistant, “The girl that just left, what did she get?”
The woman looks at me like I’m crazy, creasing her eyebrows together, as she looks between Jackson and I. “I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that, pa—”
“You have three choices, tell me what she bought, tell me what her illness is, or I go back there and find out for myself,” I tell her. She stares at me for a moment; she doesn’t know what to say. She knows if she tells me she breaks a lot of laws and if I go back there they have CCTV everywhere and she can just call the cops on me.
Jackson pushes a piece of paper towards her. "How about we do this different, don't tell us, but if I was to give this paper to you would you be able to write what medication I would need for a headache?" She nods with a smile and writes something down before she slides it over. But before Jackson can take it, I pick it up and leave.
I look down at the paper. “What the fuck is Lupus?” I ask myself, never heard of it before.
“Have no idea, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“Yeah, we’re
going for dinner tonight. Meet me at seven,” I reply, taking out my phone to call John so he can come get me and take me to the office.
Jackson says, "You know, maybe she's hiding for a reason, and you need to leave her be." If it was the other way around, I would have said the same thing to him.
I sigh and rub my hand over my face. "I can't. I know that I should but I just can't. There's something about her that draws me to her. There's something she's hiding from, and I want to know what it is," I tell him, and he doesn't reply. I mean he knows me, he knows the shit about my past and most importantly he knows that I don't usually give a shit about any woman. So for me to want to know why she's hiding means something. "Want a lift?" I ask him as John pulls up.
“Yeah, still trying to get over the fact that your ice cold heart might still beat,” Jackson says and gets into the car. I peer up at the road that Hope took, wondering where she lives; I mean it can’t be too far from here.
***
I was meant to spend my day looking through the pitch my dad told me about, but no, instead I was looking up Lupus and fuck there's a lot of information, so I don't really know exactly what Hope has. But I read up on all of it, just so I have some idea what she's dealing with. I don't have a plan for this evening, talking to her is my main plan, but I don't think that will be so easy.
Once I finally have all the information, I take a quick look at the pitch for Dad, then signed the papers.
I look up as my office door opens. “So did you look at the file?” my dad asks.
"I did, and I signed." I give him the folder; Dad holds his eyes on me for a moment. "Fine, I didn't," I admit, "but you already knew I wouldn't so why have this conversation?" I turn my computer off so I can give Dad my full attention.
He sits down. “I’ll pass it on to the team then. Your mother wants to know if you’re open to this blind date she mentioned last night?” Last night was a long night with them; Dad and this pitch and my mother talking about some woman she thinks would be perfect for me, and she would like to set it up for me.
"I'm going to pass," I tell him. This is not the first time this conversation has happened, and it won't be the last either.
“Leo, if you’re not open to the possibility of meeting someone, how do you know they can see past your inner demons?” Dad asks, and I stare at him for a moment.
“I don’t care if they can’t get past my demons, I just don’t want to talk about it.” I take a deep breath, as just the prospect of thinking about it is making me feel horrible. “And I know that they would have questions, what am I meant to tell them? I won’t tell them the truth that’s for sure.” I check my phone remembering I told Jackson to meet me at the restaurant. He has messaged to say he’s booked a table for us, as they can get busy.
"Son, you can't keep running from it. Maybe when you meet the right person, you'll open up. I'll see you tomorrow." I give him a nod, and he walks out of my office.
There’s no way any woman would understand the shit that happened to me; there’s no way they would be able to look at me and love me. Although that’s not something I crave; love is not something I want or need.
***
I tell John to come back later to pick me up, and then I make my way into the restaurant to Jackson, while looking around for Hope. I place my coat on the back of the chair.
“She’s here,” Jackson tells me as I sit down, “and I still haven’t seen her face,” he adds.
Looking at the waiter as he places a drink in front of me, I down the whiskey in one go and I tell him I want another. “How was your meeting?” I ask Jackson, checking my phone as it vibrates in my pocket.
"Crap, but clients with money only really have one problem don't they? The wife wants to spend it all." Jackson laughs as I put my phone away. My mother has messaged me about the girl she was talking about last night.
“Don’t worry, that will be you too. I say about three wives for you.” I scan around the restaurant again, to see if I can find her anywhere, but nothing.
"Three? Lucky if there's one. I don't want the hassle of that shit." I turn my attention back to him, and he tells me, "I ordered food, so we didn't have to wait." Then he nods his head for me to look behind me and there she is walking out, with her head down.
I watch her moving from one table to the other, but all I want is to see her face, because if this is how I am reacting now, what the hell am I going to be like when I see her?
I gaze at the couple at the table next to us as they walk away and I glance over at Jackson knowing that she will be over to clean the table.
“Did you find anything about the medication she takes?” he asks.
“There’s so much about Lupus that I couldn’t even pinpoint what she has.” The waiter places our food down.
“Talk to me, what is it about her? You haven’t seen her face, or spoken to her, but…”
“I have no idea. The moment I walked through that door this morning, something inside told me that she needs help and I can’t shake the feeling off,” I tell him and before she even gets to the table I know that she’s behind me. Slowly, I turn around and look over at the table. She has her back to us. “Excuse me, can I get a fork?” I ask her, but I don’t think she’s listening to what I’m saying.
She lifts the tub, but her hands are shaking, so she places it down again.
I walk over to her. "Here let me." She takes a few steps to the side putting enough space between us that another person could easily stand there. "How about you take a seat?" I say, leaning down a little hoping to get a glimpse of her face, but she has it well hidden. I straighten up again. She's small. I'm over six feet, and I can only think she's around five feet, maybe three, four inches.
“Hope!” I look behind me as the manager walks over to her. “What are you doing, getting a customer to…?” I see her jump a little and she hides away some more, didn’t think that was possible.
I tell him, "Her hands got a little shaky, so I was telling her to sit down." I stop as she goes to take the tub from me, her hand brushes mine and it's cold to the touch. "She just needs some water."
"Well, she can get it on her break," the manager tells me, and it pisses me off. Slamming the tub on the table, I take a step closer to him, and he takes one back, hitting our table.
“If she needs a moment to get herself together then let her.” My voice comes out hard, making a few diners look over at me. “You don’t own her, you can’t speak to—”
“And what are you to her?” He stops me mid-sentence and that’s one thing I hate. Don’t interrupt me; don’t talk when I’m talking.
I see her from the corner of my eye taking a few steps away from us. What the fuck is on the floor that she has to keep her eyes on it?
“None of your business who I am to her, but listen to this,” I stop as I see her running out of the restaurant. “Get her!” I shout to Jackson. She can fucking move. “Sit the fuck down,” I tell the manager as Jackson walks back over to me.
“Can’t find her anywhere.”
“Where does she live? And before you say you can’t tell me, I would think twice, you’ve already pissed me off,” I tell him getting my phone out to tell John to come get me.
With fear in his eyes, he says, "I'll get the address for you." He walks away from me.
Jackson grabs his beer. "That girl can fucking run, I mean I was out of the door just seconds after her and puff, like smoke," he says as he walks to the door with me. The manager hands me the address, and we leave.
I hand the address to John and tell Jackson to get in the car too. If she tries to run again, I need him to help me. I got some words from him about it, but I don’t care. He can shut the fuck up and help.
Pulling up to the building, I look up, and the only thing I wonder is how it hasn't fallen down yet. John gets out of the car and goes inside to make inquiries. When he gets back to the car, he says, "Sir they said that Hope hasn't got back yet." I give him a nod.
“She s
hould have been here by now—” Jackson begins, as he looks out the car window.
"Not if she walked. If she walked, she should be here in about thirty minutes." I cut him off, and I sit back and wait.
“She walks this route twice a day every day, what the fuck?” I close my eyes as I let Jackson run his mouth.
I know there’s something about her that is pulling me in, is it to help her? Save her? I don’t know but, I can’t let it go. She’s a mystery that I want to solve.
“Hey, she’s here.” Jackson taps my arm.
Opening my eyes, I watch her walking up to the building, ignoring the junkies trying to talk to her.
"Be ready in case she runs," I tell Jackson as I get out of the car. Making my way toward the building I look around at the people that live here; junkies, hookers. She doesn't look like a junkie, and she doesn't have the personality of a hooker—she needs to look at people in the face to do that job.
I walk to the front desk. “Which room does Hope live in?”
He doesn’t even look up from the paper he’s reading. Asshole. “Top floor, room on the left.”
“Where is the elevator?”
“Not working, you know what? I’ll come with you. I need to get her rent anyway.”
I take out my phone to call Jackson and tell him to go to the stairs on the side of the building and get to the top as I get a feeling she’ll try and get out of the window.
When we get to the door, he knocks, and it opens. "Someone's here to talk to you." He pushes the door open, and I get the first look at her face.
I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Her big blue eyes stare at me for a second, but it's all I need to be drawn in. One thing's for sure, she looks lost, and I plan on finding a way to do whatever makes her happy. She goes to close the door, but I stop it and walk into the room. She grabs a small box and tries to get out the window, and I smile as I see Jackson stopping her.
She quickly moves to the corner of the room and looks at the floor.
