by W. Ferraro
He handed the license to the one closest to the window. The kid looked it over and then back to Jarod, still confused.
“It’s a Private Investigator and Security Service License, kid. Let me dumb it down for you, this says it’s okay for me to be here.”
When Barney Fife I and II left, Jarod admitted he didn’t need to be such an ass to them. But he was just so jacked up from CeCe’s version of a blow off that he decided it had been too long since he had gotten a dose of CeCe. And what perfect timing, no customers and her employee, Kelleigh, was heading out for lunch. CeCe was alone.
He walked to the store and was met with a full view of CeCe on a ladder in the window. Even on the opposite side of the glass he could clearly see the much-discussed shoes wobble on the small ladder step. He pulled the door open, stepped in and inquired, “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to hang a promotional banner, what the hell does it look like I’m doing?”
He stepped over to at least hold the ladder so it wasn’t so shaky, “It looks like you are giving anyone who walks by a view of your slit.”
“My dress doesn’t have a slit.”
“I wasn’t referring to the dress!”
The audacity of the statement caught her off guard and she lost her balance. She was unable to regain it herself before he offered up a strong forearm to steady her.
“You are so crude! With that kind of vocabulary, the panties must be dropping in all directions for you, Gates”
His mind wandered back, all those years ago, when he taught her how to shoot pool and they would talk about anything and everything, “As I seem to recall you enjoyed our talks.”
“Is that how you remember it?” she mumbled, while she stretched to reach the ceiling hook.
Watching her struggle only annoyed him more, “Will you get down before you hurt yourself!”
“I can do it, Gates.”
“Cece, get down. I’ll hang the fucking banner!”
“What? Just because you have a penis, you think you can hang it better than I can?”
“Well at least you’re admitting I have a penis. It’s a step up from yesterday. And as far as how it hangs, I’m happy with it.”
Finally able to hook the last pin in the ceiling hook, she smoothed down her dress and avoided his offered hand as she stepped down the ladder. Jarod watched as she walked away from him to step back and look at her new sign.
The remark about their talks irked him as well, “You telling me you don’t remember our hour long talks about just about everything?”
He honestly didn’t think she would respond when she said in a less stern voice, “Yeah, well, as far as those talks, I was young and stupid; I had an excuse.” As soon as the last word was spoken, she turned her back on him and headed into her back office.
Jarod folded the ladder closed and carried it back. The back room, or office, wasn’t exactly what he expected. In the middle of the room sat a feminine looking white desk. Strewn out on top were papers and sketches. Along the back wall were boxes he assumed were new shipments of merchandise. However, the spot that held his attention was the large table that held a state of the art sewing machine, an open cabinet with baskets filled with fabrics, threads and other paraphernalia. Next to the desk were two freestanding wire dress forms, one bare, while the other had an unfinished dress of white lace.
He could feel her eyes on him as his feet explored the space.
“Are you done, Nosey?”
Without turning to face her inquisition, he off handedly said, “Being nosey is part of my job.” When he had taken in everything, he turned and added, “I remember you wanted to design. Good to see you never let go of that dream.”
He watched as she swallowed hard as something crossed her face, but she remained mute. He was just about to probe further when the front door chimed, announcing a customer entering the store. Before CeCe could take the three steps to enter the store floor, the sound rang again.
Gates was reading the shipping invoice adhered to the side of one of the boxes when he heard CeCe shriek, “This is getting old, really fast!”
Double time, he exited the office to find CeCe holding an arrangement of white roses. He ran past her and out the door. He looked left then right, but there was no one walking away from the store. No more than fifteen seconds had passed. Jogging around the immediate parking area, there was no movement, or any cars exiting the lot. Returning to the store, again passing CeCe without a word he went into the back where the video feed was. Jarod ran the feed back and found his first piece of evidence. The male seen entering the store was between 5’11”and 6’2’’ and wore a dark hoodie over his head and had a stockier build. He obviously knew where the cameras were because he kept his face averted. He used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to enter and leave the store as well as to hold the florist papers. He played it multiple times to ensure he didn’t miss anything.
When he returned from looking at the feed, the flowers were on the counter next to the register and CeCe was at the front window with her cell phone to her ear. He walked towards her, but when she looked over her shoulder and saw his approach; she quickly ended her call, “…talk to you later.”
“Everything alright?”
“Peachy! This flower Casanova of mine seems to know just when to enter and leave. He comes into my business. He comes to my home. Why wouldn’t everything be anything but alright?” She gripped her phone as she watched life continue on through the large storefront window.
She was pissed, that was obvious, but there was something else beneath the fury. He needed to reassure her she shouldn’t be scared, “It’s just a matter of time, before I catch him, Kitten. I’m not going to let him get anywhere near you.” Her gaze never wavered from the unknown spot she was looking at outside. “I’m going to head over to the Security Office and check out the outside cameras. I’ll get him, CeCe. I promise.”
Finally turning her beautiful hazel eyes to him, she said sternly, “Fuck your promise, Gates. I want results.”
Jarod’s trip to the Security Office took longer than a root canal should, thanks to Barney Fife I and II. Unfortunately, the outside feed showed nothing different than the in-store feed. There were two more shots of the suspect leaving the store, but he went to the location of the parking lot blind spot. Jarod had had enough of the Barneys interference, so he called the Security Manager himself and was on the phone with him when he headed back to CeCe’s.
“You have a major security breech and a tenant that is being harassed, that isn’t enough for you to rearrange your security cameras?”
When the manager explained about building funds and whatnot for the umpteenth time, Jarod’s temper exploded, “Listen, I’m telling you I don’t care if you have to raid your kid’s piggy bank, just figure it out, and have the cameras fixed by tomorrow, or you will be hearing from Ms. Cervetti’s attorney about a public safety suit. I’m sure building owners, and the town officials you keep saying are restricting your ability to do so, would not want to hear they were the reason behind such a lawsuit.”
When he returned to the store, he found CeCe using her flirtation abilities at full power as she stood close to a man that was returning his own megawatt smile. The man’s clothing and how he carried himself was similar to Lowell’s, confirming to Jarod that this must be her type. The two were laughing, and she grabbed hold of his forearm when she seemed to have lost her balance, apparently from laughing too hard.
Jarod cleared his throat and then ground his teeth. I have to remember to call the dentist.
“Am I interrupting?”
The man’s back was to Jarod, and he turned, immediately sizing Jarod up in return.
Jarod walked toward the duo, crossed his arms over his black clad chest, and arched a brow as he waited for an introduction.
He didn’t miss the exaggerated eye roll CeCe gave or the masculine sizing-up look Max wielded, “Gates, this is Max, I mean Lieutenant Idarraga. Max, this is…”
“…The private investigator Cross sicced on you.” Max finished for her, as he placed his hands on his waist, giving more prominence to the badge he wore on his belt.
“And you’re the Podunk cop that can’t solve this case, hence why I’m here.”
The two men stared at each other; plainly evident they didn’t care for one another.
Max was the first to break the staring challenge, he turned his attention back to CeCe and said in what Jarod was sure was an over-emphasized accent, “I’ll go check out the security feed for the plaza, but I doubt we will get anything more than your video got. This guy seems to know what he is doing.”
“Good thing you are here to tell her everything I already confirmed, Max.” Jarod snarled.
Max turned his attention back to Jarod and licked his lips before tonguing the inside of his mouth, “Do you have a problem with how I’m running my investigation, Gates?”
Jarod walked past the man, turned his back to the counter and hoisted himself onto it, like he was comfortable here, before retorting, “By problem, do you mean doing nothing and just keep giving this guy the ability to do his stalking thing, then no, not at all.”
Max was just about to clarify his opinion when CeCe spoke up, “That’s enough. Look, I’m stuck with him, Max, so you might as well play nice.”
Jarod smiled from ear to ear, listening to her reprimand of Idarraga, but the laughter died when she rounded on him, “And you, stop being such an asshole, as usual. The faster you do your job the faster you can leave me be. I just want to know who this prick is so I can turn him down and get back to my life.”
After a few more moments of Max giving CeCe the standard police blah blah blah, he exited the store. When he reached his car, CeCe turned away from the window and walked with purpose back to where Jarod sat, “What is your problem? You know, not every man is a dick-length challenge? How the hell did you make it through the Marine Corps? Or are all you Jarheads sarcastic twit-twats?”
That got Jarod’s back up. Why was she so touchy about his behavior toward Idarraga? Maybe CeCe had already found her next conquest. The idea was enough to make Jarod see red.
“Kitten, every man is a dick-length comparison when in your vicinity. Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise.” He hopped down and stepped close enough to inhale her wonderful scent.
Her hazel eyes searched his, waiting for him to say something else, and he wanted to, but he chose to remain mute, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate hearing the truth.
“Oh come on, spit it out…why stop now?” she motioned with her hand for him to continue.
“Fine you want it, here it is…” he stepped right up to her, so she had to look up at him, and he whispered in her ear, “Idarraga wants you bad, Kitten.”
“You are certifiable!” She bit back, trying to walk away; he reached out and grabbed her arm, firmer than he should have.
“Oh…I get it, it’s one of those, been there done that situations.”
“Let. Go. Of. Me!”
He did, but the glare continued. As if her easy brush off of her sex appeal and the constant chemistry between them, whether she was willing to admit it or not, wasn’t bad enough, the fact that he was finally within arms-length of her after all these years he needed for her to feel some of the pain he felt.
“Tell me, is there a cock in this town, or the surrounding three states, you haven’t taken a ride on?” he shouted to her retreating back.
She turned around instantly, silent and shocked, fingering the circle at her neck. Then the take no shit pride crossed her face. She marched right back up to him, poking him in the chest causing Jarod to back step several times.
“That is none of your Goddamn business! Besides, what, are you jealous?”
Her pupils darted back and forth as she searched his blue eyes. She must have seen what she wanted because she walked backwards with a triumphant smile on her face, “Your silence speaks volumes. Careful, Gates, you might actually be showing an emotion of some kind. Jealousy does not look good on you.”
CeCe finished out the rest of the day on her own. Kelleigh had called right after the flowers had been delivered stating she wasn’t feeling well. Kimmie had come in later in the afternoon and worked until close. When CeCe walked Kimmie out so she could lock the door behind her, she noticed Jarod’s truck in the parking lot. His large form was hard to miss behind the wheel. She could see he had his aviator glasses on¸ and they were staring directly at her. With a final wave to Kimmie, CeCe locked up, and headed back to her office.
She changed into the yoga pants and oversized shirt she kept at the store. She sat down at her desk, knowing she needed to draw out some of these crazy emotions that were circulating through her. Between the latest flower deliveries; the fact she had been a mere twenty feet away from the guy; the knowledge this was becoming more than some random flowers; and the ramped up interchange with Jarod, she needed to just zone out with her designs.
She replayed his words over and over again in her head. Did he really think she was such a tramp? Was she a tramp? Just as the thought crossed her mind, her phone buzzed. It was the tenth text from Derrick. Like all the others, she ignored it. She knew she was being unfair to him, especially after receiving the necklace last night and when they tried again for intimacy, she stopped him, again, and asked to be taken home. Always the considerate gentleman, Derrick obliged. Now he was texting her, but it was confining to her, almost suffocating. Knowing he would continue, she responded quickly with a working late excuse then turned off her phone.
CeCe picked up her pencil and just let her creative juices flow. Apparently, time got away from her because when she next looked at the clock almost ninety minutes had passed. Rolling the muscles of her neck, she jumped when there was a bang at her back door. The sound startled her. There was no window and no peephole for her to look through. She grabbed her phone and sat, not even breathing, hoping she imagined it.
There was another bang, this one longer and harder.
Standing, with her phone firmly in her hand, she walked to the door still unsure what she should do.
“It’s Jarod. You know, the asshat. I have come with food and beer. Open the dang door!”
Removing the securities, she opened the door and found him standing there with a takeout bag from her favorite Chinese restaurant.
“You scared the shit out of me. Ever heard of calling?”
Jarod walked in and placed the take out on her desk, careful not to put it on any papers, then turned back towards her and replied sarcastically, “Ever heard of turning on your phone?”
CeCe looked down at her phone and realized he was right; she had turned it off. Chagrinned, she threw the phone onto her desk before walking around and sitting in her chair with her legs tucked underneath her.
She watched as he emptied the bag’s contents, including plates and plastic utensils. The aroma wafting toward her nose was heavenly.
“What’s this for?”
Jarod opened the containers as he answered, “Consider it an apology. I was out of line earlier.”
Taking the closest container to her, she began to load her plate up, “I’ll just chalk it up to the fact you’re an asshole. We’re square on that front, now.” Jarod walked over to her workstation, he rolled the computer chair back, straddling it backwards as he made his own plate.
She was enjoying the silence when he broke it.
“What is going to make us square on all fronts?” He pulled the cap off the bottle of beer and took a long swig, waiting for her response.
“I don’t know.” She chewed her food before reaching over and taking his already open beer and swallowing a long pull. “I suppose an apology for your accusations on my sex life would be a start.” Taking another swig of the frothy coolness, she added, “Then there is the whole breathing thing.”
“Breathing thing?”
“Yeah, you’re breathing, that’s enough to piss me off.”
Jarod let
out a deep belly laugh at that. He twirled some noodles on his fork, messily stuffed them in his mouth before grabbing back his beer and tipping it in her direction, “I’ll see what I can do about that, Kitten.”
They ate in silence until most of the containers were empty, as well as several beer bottles.
Pencil in hand, CeCe was deep in thought, sketching her current design and Jarod was over by her workstation looking at the designs she had tacked to the wall.
“These are really good, Cees.”
She looked up and found it extremely funny that Jarod’s big form was moving his head back and forth in different angles as he tried to interpret the designs.
“I particularly like this one.” He pointed.
Unable to see what he was pointing to, she set the pencil and pad down and walked over to stand next to him. He was looking at a design for a bra and panty set she had drawn.
“Typical,” she lightly laughed as she stood with him looking at all the designs that she was starting to feel would remain just paper thoughts.
“Can I ask you something?” Jarod asked, now with his full attention on her. Standing this close to him, in her bare feet, their height difference was so evident, almost a foot.
“What do you see in Lowell?”
She looked at his direct blue gaze and suddenly, the room felt small.
“Just tell me, is that what you want? I’m sorry. I’m just curious.” He stepped away from her, running his hands over his face, he’d taken a deep breath before turning back to face her. “From the outside looking in, I don’t like him with you. He isn’t right for you.”
She should have known he would turn this cordial meal into anything but. Raising her head and praying for strength, even though she knew she would never wait for it. “How the fuck do you know who is, or isn’t right for me?” her breasts heaved from the seething shout. Breaking the distance, she poked his chest again with her index finger emphasizing every word, “You’ve reappeared in my life, what three days ago? And all of a sudden you’re an expert on who and what is best for me?”
