Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance

by Chastain, Rebecca

  I studied Antonio as he laid down the place mats. He’d dressed in faded jeans and a white V-neck undershirt that made his tanned skin glow. The shirt emphasized his wide shoulders, lean hips, and biceps that required gym work on top of his day job.

  Normally I would have appreciated the view, but today I was suspicious. Antonio knew my weakness for a man in jeans and a white T-shirt, and he was playing it up.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. The windows to the house were open, but the dining room separated us from the kitchen, where I could hear Ari talking with Hudson.

  “I live here.”

  “And you didn’t bother to get fully dressed when you knew company was coming over because . . . ?”

  He glanced up, giving me a smoldering look through thick lashes, his grin knowing. “Just keeping an eye on Ari and you. She told me you’d gotten into some trouble.” When he straightened, he flexed, and his pectoral muscles bounced.

  I rolled my eyes. I wouldn’t admit to enjoying the show. Hieroglyphics spiraled up both of Antonio’s arms, all divinations. Carmela, Antonio and Ari’s mother, would never let him hear the end of it if he got a real tattoo, and Antonio was enough of a mama’s boy to care.

  Ari breezed through the screen door before I could respond. She wore oven mitts and carried a lasagna large enough to feed ten. Hudson followed with a pot holder, a bowl of garlic bread, and a salad. Ari made a second trip to retrieve a bottle of wine and a pitcher of ice water, and Chatter followed her back out. After rubbing against each person, the cat flopped in the last slice of sun to groom.

  While we served ourselves and ate, Ari entertained, drawing information out of Hudson with skill an interrogator would envy. We learned Hudson had dreamed of being a long-haul trucker as a child, his longest relationship had been a two-year romance in college, and he eventually wanted kids.

  “You ever think about going back home?” Ari asked when he mentioned he was from Texas. I saw through her casual questions to the root of her inquiries: She was doing a background and flight-risk check on what she perceived to be a future Mr. Eva Parker. Hudson appeared oblivious.

  “This is home. I’m a native Californian born in the wrong state.”

  When he confessed his parents were still married and he had one younger brother, I admitted to being an only child, and a bastard at that.

  “That’s better than having a nosy older sister and three domineering older brothers, including this one,” Ari said, pointing at Antonio.

  “I don’t know which is worse,” Hudson said. “Only children, who are always selfish and spoiled, or the babies of the family, who are always selfish and spoiled.”

  “Hey!” Ari and I protested.

  “Being an older brother is hard work,” Antonio said. “You’ve always got to put up with your sibling’s shit, bail them out of trouble, set a good example—”

  “You wouldn’t know a good example if it slapped you,” Ari bantered.

  “The youngest have it so easy,” Hudson said. “We broke in the parents, wore them down. And then they skate through on all our hard work and never appreciate it.”

  “Exactly,” Antonio agreed. He raised his wineglass and Hudson tapped it with his own.

  I forked a stray zucchini and kept my mouth shut. I’d always wanted a sibling. Even better would have been a normal family, one with two parents who stuck together and stuck around. I knew my father’s identity, and I knew what he looked like in high school, because I’d seen my mom’s yearbook. James Parker. My mother had given me his last name, but that hadn’t been enough to make him a father. I didn’t remember meeting him, though my mother said I had.

  “He came to visit you a few times when you were really young,” she’d said the last time I had asked about him. I’d been thirteen.

  “If I was too young to remember it, it doesn’t count.”

  “It should count for something, dear. He came to see you as much as he could. He tried. He was very young—”

  “I thought that was your excuse, Annabella. You visit as much as you can, right? You’re trying, right? I’m surprised I remember you.” I’d stormed out of the room.

  “Eva’s not an only child,” Ari said, snapping me back to the present. “She’s been adopted into the da Via famiglia.”

  “We only need the paperwork to go through,” I said, smiling at my best friend.

  “Nope, not going to happen,” Antonio said. A copyright symbol in red, white, and blue appeared over his heart. “Eva and I dated. That would be weird. And illegal. And disgusting. She can be your honorary sister.”

  “Eh. We all knew that was going nowhere,” Ari said as if she hadn’t pushed our relationship every step of the way. Antonio watched for Hudson’s reaction. So did I. Hudson’s eyes shot to Antonio’s; then he leaned back, laid his arm across the back of my chair, and smiled at me. I stifled a giggle. Antonio had met his match for male posturing.

  “So you’re not a spoiled only child?”

  “Of course I’m spoiled. I just know how to appear humble.”

  Ari snorted. Antonio barked a laugh.

  “Anyway,” I said, seeing Ari gearing up to regale Hudson with embarrassing tales. “Any word on the Suburban?”

  Hudson glanced to Antonio and Ari. “They’re up to speed? On everything?”

  “Ari knows everything. Antonio?”

  “Baby elephant at Aunt Fi’s, Suburban trashed, crazy high school woman disappeared,” Antonio recapped. “I know everything.”

  Hudson nodded, eyes troubled. “I got the Suburban back today and returned it. The detailers more than earned their exorbitant fee. It almost looked better than when we got it. There’s no sign an elephant took a bath inside.” The Scottish terrier stood by his chair, still as stone.

  “Let me know how much I owe you,” I said, hiding my wince. Jenny was racking up quite a bill.

  “What’d you find out about Jenny?” he asked.

  “Not much. We think she was in the science club in high school, and she might have transferred after junior year, since she’s not in my senior yearbook.”

  “We know she was in the science club,” Ari said. “I did some e-mailing and Facebook research and got ahold of a few of the other members. They didn’t have much to say about Jenny. She was quiet, kept to herself—”

  “Clear signs of a psycho in the making,” I said.

  “—and was obviously only in the club to put it on college applications. They all agreed she was super smart, though. Every one of them made a point of mentioning it. She went to Duke. Finished undergrad and grad in four years. I chatted with one of her college classmates, and he confirmed Jenny was like a savant. Claimed she made everyone else look bad. He didn’t seem sorry that she’d graduated early. Maybe she’s so smart, she snapped. You know, A Beautiful Mind and all that.”

  “She snapped and kidnapped a baby elephant?” I asked.

  “Seems unlikely,” Ari agreed. “I checked the news feeds again. No one’s reported a missing baby elephant from any zoo or traveling show worldwide.”

  “What did she study at Duke?” I asked.

  “Genetic biology.”

  “Huh,” I said. It was a sentiment everyone agreed with.

  “I found out where Jenny’s parents lived when she was in high school,” Ari said.

  “Encino? Rosita Street?” Hudson asked.

  “One and the same. Are they still there?”

  “According to the information I found. Jenny isn’t, though. She moved to Japan and works for a company called Adorable Creations.”

  “What’s she doing here, then?” I asked. “And with an elephant? What does she do at Adorable Creations?”

  “They do experiments with animals. Lab stuff,” Hudson said. “They created a dog that looks like it’s a puppy forever—big feet, floppy ears, stunted growth. They’re right up there with the people who grow ears on the backs of mice.”

  We all shuddered.

  “Wait. What if the elephant is part
of some experiment? What do we know about Jenny?” I ticked off the points on my fingers. “She’s brilliant. She studied genetic biology. She works for a company that does genetic manipulation.”

  “I guess Kyoko could be part of an experiment, but going from dogs to elephants is a big jump,” Ari said.

  When none of us had more information to share, and our speculations about Jenny’s possible motives had wound down, Ari pushed back from the table. “I saw you brought some cupcakes. Let me grab them and the coffee cake. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll help,” Antonio said, carrying the half-eaten lasagna with him.

  I grabbed Hudson’s arm the moment they were both inside. “We can’t let them eat the cupcakes!” I hissed.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?! They were made by kidnappers! We don’t know what’s in them. They could be drugged!”

  “Didn’t you say you saw one of the guys eat one?”

  “Yeah, but that could have been to make me think the rest were okay.”

  “Didn’t you also say the kidnapping seemed like a misunderstanding?”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Ari asked, returning with a platter of coffee cake that had been warming in the oven. Antonio followed with the Tupperware.

  “I think I’m ready to propose,” Antonio said, licking a finger.

  “You didn’t eat one!”

  “What? I had to make sure they weren’t poisoned.” He set the Tupperware on the table and selected a carrot cake cupcake. “The chocolate ones are pure heaven.” He bit into the carrot cake and moaned. I gripped the arms of my chair, ready to launch across the table and perform the Heimlich. “I take it back. The chocolate are what’s served outside the pearly gates. This”—he pointed at the cream cheese frosting—“is what’s served on the inside.”

  “You’re amazing, Eva. You’ve had the craziest couple of days, and you still thought to pick up something on your way home,” Ari said.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t—”

  Ari selected a chocolate cupcake and took a bite. She closed her eyes to savor it, then said, “Antonio is right. This is heaven. Where’d you go?”

  “I . . . ah, I don’t remember,” I said, watching for signs of drowsiness or asphyxiation. “Like you said, it was . . . hectic.”

  Antonio and Ari stared at me with twin perplexed expressions.

  “You know there’s coffee cake on the table, right?” Ari asked. “Warm. Fresh out of the oven.”

  The fact that it’d been sitting in front of me for over a minute without me pouncing on it worried them. I grabbed the knife and cut myself a slice. The damage was done. If the cupcakes were poisoned, it was already in Antonio’s and Ari’s bloodstream.

  Hudson selected a chocolate.

  “You too?” I asked, incredulous.

  “I like to live dangerously,” he said with a wink.

  “Seriously, man, these are addictive,” Antonio agreed.

  “What’s our next step?” I asked, pushing aside visions of all three of them rushing away in ambulances to the nearest hospital.

  Barring Jenny miraculously retrieving Kyoko and disappearing from our lives, our current plan of tracking her down remained our only option. Ari would continue to contact past acquaintances via the Internet and phone—and she’d update Sofie. Hudson and I would visit Jenny’s parents tomorrow. With any luck, Jenny would be holed up there, and the whole fiasco would be over by tomorrow.

  Just in case, I thought it prudent to move Kyoko.

  “I don’t know who this retrievalist is or how he plays into everything,” I told Hudson as we walked back to my place. “He could be on our side for all I know, but I don’t want to take any chances with anyone finding Kyoko at Sofie’s. I think we should move her tomorrow.”

  “Where?”

  I’d already thought of this, too. “I know someone. A family friend, really. She’s out of town indefinitely. Her house is more private than Sofie’s. It has an alarm system. Sofie would be safer.” Since this “friend” happened to be my mother, Annabella Hunt, currently in Europe shooting episodes of her treasure-hunting show, Hunt and Seek, I didn’t even have to ask permission. Plus, adding elephant poop to my mother’s life, no matter how remotely, pleased a childish part of me.

  “That means transporting Kyoko again. We need another truck and trailer. One that won’t crap out on us, even with Kyoko’s curse.” Rotten-core bananas dripped slices from his shoulders to the sidewalk, leaving a vanishing sticky trail behind us.

  The drive between Sofie’s home and my mother’s was short enough to be feasible, but vehicle appropriation wasn’t my forte. “Do you think you can find a place to rent a truck and trailer?”

  “I should be able to work something out.”

  “Thank you.” The words were inadequate, but Hudson shrugged them aside anyway. A tarnished broadsword peeked over his shoulder.

  I shivered when the breeze cut through my thin top, and Hudson wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against his warm side. My footsteps slowed as we neared my apartment. I didn’t want to say good night just yet. I fantasized about how our first date would have gone had Jenny not interrupted Hudson outside the art gallery and dragged us both into her mess. Would the chemistry between us have been as tangible without the bond of our criminal escapades? Would Hudson have been as interested in me if he hadn’t gotten to play the role of savior? The kiss earlier said the answer to both those questions was yes.

  But shouldn’t I be certain? The only way to find out would be to kiss Hudson again.

  A woman had to do what a woman had to do.

  “Do you want to come up?”

  Hudson didn’t hesitate. “Sure.” He steered us into the lobby of my building and toward the elevators. “What floor?”

  “The top. Seven. But, ah, I’ll take the stairs and meet you up there.”

  Hudson stopped and took a step away from me to get a better look at my face. I missed his warmth immediately in the arctic lobby. Crossing my arms, I stifled a sigh and lined up my usual string of lies.

  “Is there something I should know about the elevators?”

  “Only that they’re metal death boxes on tiny strings, just like every other elevator you’ve ever encountered.”

  “Hang on. Are you telling me you get irritated when you’re kidnapped and frustrated when people drag you into illegal schemes, but you’re afraid of rather ordinary elevators?”

  “Shouldn’t a person be irritated when they’re kidnapped?”

  “Sure, of course, irritated. Or perhaps terrified or panicked. Most people, when escaping said kidnappers, might get a wee bit hysterical. You invent some sex story and make a lifelong protector out of a cabbie—who threatened to cut off my balls if I ever allowed you to be endangered by our ‘sex games’ again, just so you know. You were cool as brass. Your best friend never suspected a thing. So, yeah, I’m a little surprised you’ve got a thing with elevators.” He snapped his fingers. “Hang on. Are you claustrophobic?”

  “Would it make it better if I got hysterical?”

  Hudson ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe a little. Just enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “To give me excuses.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hudson trailed me up six flights of stairs. Hyperconscious of his eyes on my backside the whole way, I took the stairs faster than normal. When we reached the top, we were both out of breath, but Hudson no more than me.

  I flipped on the lights in my loft and waited to deliver my next lie.

  “What’s wrong with the lighting?”

  “It’s gas.”

  “Gas? Like what was used before electricity was invented?”

  “One and the same.” I had variations for the next lie: Sometimes I told men it was a feng shui thing. Sometimes I told them it was a new, greener lighting method. Some didn’t even notice the lights. To Hudson I told the lie he was least likely
to refute. “It was left over from a previous resident, and I got the loft cheap because of it.”

  “Huh.” He walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out. “Nice view.”

  I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen. “Do you like port?”

  “More of a scotch kind of guy.”

  I filled two tumblers with a few fingers’ worth and recapped the bottle. “Ice?”

  “No, thanks.”

  I dropped two cubes in my glass. When I’d first moved in, I’d stored all my vegetables and leftovers in an ice chest, and I’d hauled up bagged ice daily. For my next birthday, Sofie gave me a propane-powered fridge that cost more than the monthly mortgage bill. For Christmas, she’d given me a gas-powered washer and dryer. It had been her idea to hire Antonio to retrograde all the electric features to gas—and I don’t think she’d foreseen that relationship blossoming, either.

  “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting,” Hudson said, taking his drink from me.

  “Oh? How so?”

  “I thought there’d be more hippy stuff.” He seemed embarrassed by his words, but he didn’t apologize.

  “You mean New Agey stuff? Like that?” I pointed to a faceted round crystal suspended by clear fishing wire nine inches from the ceiling in the far right corner of the front room. I didn’t explain it hung in the center of my love and marriage bagua and the crystal helped deflect the energy coming in through all the full-length windows. “Or that?” I pointed to the wind chime hanging above the base of my bedroom stairs, slowing the flow of chi.

  “Those are . . . odd, but I was thinking more like pillows on the floor, drapey wall hangings in pastels and rainbow colors, baskets. Papasans everywhere.”

  “Even after Sofie’s?”

  Hudson shrugged.

  “Fortunately for me, feng shui doesn’t mean you have to live in the sixties. Though I think it’s funny you went there. Most people think that since it’s an ancient Chinese art, everything has to look like it’s straight out of Hong Kong.”