by L. E. Bross
I stopped and watched Seth slip out the doors. Damn it. Rick jogged across the lobby, and when he stopped, he looked at the door where Seth exited. “I just wanted to say it again, I think it’s best if you stay away from Seth.”
What the hell? Anger prickled against my neck. “And again, I appreciate your concern, but it’s really none of your business who I’m friends with.”
“You just have no idea what he is capable of. I’d rather not see you get hurt, that’s all.”
I lifted my chin and looked down my nose at Rick. He obviously took his role as supervisor much too seriously. Luckily I only had to listen to him between six and two. “He wouldn’t hurt me, Rick.”
Rick crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you so sure? You barely know him. Do you even know why he was sent to prison?”
I didn’t know. My gaze dropped to the ground.
“Just think about what I said, okay? You’re a good kid. Once this is done, you can walk away and forget all this. Guys like him? He’ll end up right back behind bars, you mark my words.”
I knew that statistically he might be right, but I didn’t believe him. Not that I knew anything about Seth, other than that he made my blood overheat, but there was something there behind his eyes that made me think he wanted more.
Before I could argue with Rick anymore, my phone rang. When I looked at the screen, I saw my father’s face pop up.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, kiddo. This isn’t a bad time, is it?”
“Just got done for the day. Is anything wrong? You never call during the week.” I dismissed Rick by turning my back on him and walking out toward my car. I didn’t plan on listening to anything else he had to say, anyway.
“Can’t a father call his daughter when he feels like it?” Okay, that was weird. Dad never called me during the day. Ever. “I wanted to see if you could meet me for dinner tonight? That Middle Eastern bistro you like so much on Cabot Street? Say six?”
Now I knew something was wrong. We usually did dinner one Sunday a month at the club, at my mother’s insistence, and that was the extent of it. I couldn’t even remember the last time Dad and I went out to eat alone, just the two of us.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Are you and mom getting a divorce?”
Dad snorted. “Of course not. Jesus, do you think I’d do something like that right before the election? Look, I have to go, my four o’clock just showed up. I’ll see you at six, Avery.” The phone went silent.
I played every possible scenario in my head as I drove home. Maybe Grant had dropped the charges and I was off the hook? Or maybe my mom was going to Sweden to the “spa” to rejuvenate again?
The knot in my stomach grew heavier, even after I got home and showered and changed into a sundress and sandals. I pulled my hair to the side and braided it loosely. Dad liked it when I at least made an effort to look like a future politician’s daughter.
By the time I walked into the bistro, I thought I might throw up. Dad was already there and waved to me from a corner booth.
“Hi, Daddy.” I kissed his cheek and slid in across from him. “I have to say again that this is unexpected.”
“I can’t have dinner with my daughter without a reason?” he asked. But the thing was, I knew my dad and I knew how to read him. There was a reason he asked me here, I could see it in his eyes.
“Cut the crap,” I said. “You taught me to figure out the unspoken things people aren’t saying. It works on you too.”
Dad grinned. “You’re going to make a hell of a lawyer, Avery. Yes, there is a reason I asked you to meet me.”
Before he could say anything more, the waitress came over and took our order. The knots in my stomach had loosened a little after Dad confessed, so I ordered a falafel and hummus platter.
“I wanted to see how things are going with your community service. I realized today that I hadn’t spoken with you since you started.”
“It’s going fine. The first week was tough, but I made it. This week was a little better.”
“And the people? No one is bothering you, are they? I read all the files and didn’t see anything that stood out, but with drug and violence issues, you can never be sure. Your safety is my utmost concern here, no matter what the judge said.”
He was looking at me not as a dad, but as a lawyer now. The wrinkles around his mouth spoke of his seriousness, and I had no doubt that if I even whispered that I felt threatened, he would have me off that crew before morning.
But for some reason, I wasn’t so desperate to get out of community service anymore.
“I’m fine,” I said again. “I’ve never felt unsafe picking up trash. It’s monotonous and boring and the heat is killer, but the crew is pretty decent. There’s one other girl. We’re partners.”
“Sasha Delaney. Nineteen. Possession and distribution charges. Turned evidence against her boyfriend and served eight months. Gave birth in prison and gave the child up for adoption.” Dad recited the facts about Sasha as if he were reading a case study. Which I guess he had.
“She’s more than just all that.” I picked at my straw wrapper. “She has a crazy sense of humor and makes up these stories about the shoes we find alongside the highway. It’s hilarious.”
Dad’s eyebrows dipped down. “Stories? They’re shoes that someone threw away.”
He didn’t get it.
“Never mind.”
“How about Seth Hunter? In prison for—”
“Dad!” I interrupted. “I don’t need a dossier on every single person, okay? They are people. Human beings. Do you think I should be defined by one stupid mistake? Because I’m just like them. You realize that, don’t you? If you insist on having a file of facts for everyone else, then you need one for me too. Avery Melrose. Twenty-one. Destruction of property. Three hundred hours of community service and fifteen . . . ”
“You’ve made your point, Avery.”
“Have I? Because I can go on if you need me to.”
Dad shook his head, then he chuckled. “Your opposing counsel will never stand a chance.”
His compliment made me smile. “I was taught by the very best.”
“So, your mother wanted me to remind you that Sunday is lunch at the club.”
“As if I could forget.”
“She said to wear the gray suit with the pearls Grandma gave you?”
I groaned. I fucking hated that suit. I looked like a forty-year-old unmarried aunt in it.
Our food arrived and we made small talk as we ate, mostly about Dad’s campaign. I waited while Dad paid the bill, and then he walked me to my car. I gave him a quick hug.
“Thanks for the unexpected dinner. Shari went back to campus already, and it’s been me and the microwave.”
“I’ll send Theresa over to cook for you if you want.”
He was serious. He would send their cook over to my apartment to wait on me. “No, thanks. I got it.”
He nodded, clearly distracted by something. “Listen, Avery, I know you have a soft spot for the underdog, but just be careful whom you decide to trust. Most of those people you’re working side by side with will likely end up right back behind bars. You have a promising future in corporate law to think about. Guilt by association is very real.”
Okay, so Dad was the second person today to tell me the probable future of my co-servicers. “I appreciate the advice, but I’m not going to do anything stupid. I just want this done so I can concentrate on graduating and then law school. I’m not going to turn into a career criminal by osmosis.”
“Glad to hear it.” A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I forgot to mention that a reporter would like to talk to you about the campaign and your community service. He was hoping to come by the Works building and talk to you.”
“I really don’t want to talk to anyone about this, Dad.”
“After that interview on the court steps right after your sentencing, interest in you has grown. This will show the voters that I’m serious abou
t my one-strike policy. I need you to do this.” He handed me a business card. “I already told him yes, so please contact him and set up a time.”
I pocketed the card and climbed into my car. Of course it was all about the election, and nothing got in the way of making nice with everyone right now. Not even my reluctance at splashing my moment of insanity over the front page and baring my personal baggage to the world.
Talking to some reporter about how I learned my lesson that my father was the best candidate for mayor? Not going to happen.
“See you Sunday,” he called out as I pulled away.
As soon as I was out of his sight, I threw the card out the window.
Ian, Seth, Sasha, and I had unofficially teamed up by Friday.
Which basically meant that Ian and Sasha walked ahead, laughing and talking, while Seth and I trailed behind, stabbing anything they’d missed. There was a companionable silence between us that felt weird at first.
I kept waiting for him to acknowledge the almost kiss, but he didn’t. We kept walking and stabbing until the air between us felt thick enough to cut through. Every once in a while I’d glance over and find him watching me. The look in his eyes . . . it made my skin feel too tight.
“Another week down,” he finally said. “Only six more to go.”
“When you put it like that . . . just ugh.” I stabbed a to-go cup from some gas station and shoved it into the bag. “I had no idea that people were this blasé about the environment. I mean, I knew there were a few assholes who threw stuff out their windows, but we’re on the way to filling an entire landfill here.”
“They throw it away and keep driving. Everything is disposable. Once its purpose is served, there isn’t any use for it anymore.” The tone of his voice told me he wasn’t necessarily talking about to-go cups and condom wrappers.
“That is completely depressing.” I glanced over at Seth, and he was staring ahead, his mouth pulled tight. “But I think there are a lot of people who still care, who treasure what they have. Who believe that there is purpose to what we want, what we do.” Were we still talking about trash or something else? His eyes grew darker and he glared down at the ground.
“Not many people I know give a shit about anyone else.”
“What about Ryan? He seems like a good friend.”
Finally, he relaxed a little. “The best. Without him, I never would have survived.”
“Survived what?”
He waved his hand around. “This. Life. Prison. Dumb shit we did when we thought we were invincible.”
I smiled. Yesterday, when Rick had warned me to stay away from Seth, I realized how little I knew about him. We had six more weeks to get to know each other better. The idea of being around him didn’t seem so bad now. I actually looked forward to it every day. When he wasn’t acting like an ass, he was really quite charming. And when he smiled . . . it made my stomach tighten every single time. “You did that a lot? Dumb shit?”
He looked over and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”
“No. Never.”
Seth stopped and turned to face me. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? Seriously, never? How is that possible? Sneaking out? Stealing your parents’ booze? Skipping school?”
“No, no, and no,” I ticked off. God, he probably thought I was some kind of shut-in or something. “I had the opportunity; I just never thought it was all that important.”
“Every teenager thinks that shit is important.”
I shrugged and looked away from his stare. I had goals in high school or, more accurately, my parents had goals for me that I agreed with, and bad behavior would have just gotten in the way. Not to mention my father probably would have had me homeschooled if I had ever pulled anything crazy.
Seth didn’t ask any more questions, and we went back to working side by side. Every once in a while I caught him looking at me, like he was trying to figure something out. I sort of liked being an enigma.
Grant and I had known each other for years before we became a couple, since our parents were close friends. We’d played in the kiddie pool together, although at Grant’s house it was more like an infinity pool complete with a gigantic waterslide, and we had taken family vacations together almost every year.
There was no thrill of discovery with him. No getting-to-know-you period. We already knew everything about each other. That had been our entire childhood, and it was naturally expected we would transition into more when we were old enough.
Everything with Seth was new, and I was enjoying it.
The sun grew hotter and sweat rolled down my face. I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. Mike, an overweight bald guy with a million tattoos everywhere, was beet red and panting just behind us. I looked over my shoulder a few times, and he kept getting redder and redder.
“Is he okay?” I asked Seth, pointing back to Mike.
Seth turned to look, and his eyebrows drew down. “Hey, Mike, man, you doing okay?”
Mike started to stand up, but his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.
“Shit, someone get Rick,” Seth yelled before sprinting to Mike’s side.
I went with Seth and stood over Mike, trying to shadow his face as best I could.
“Do you have water?” Seth asked me, ripping off his blue gloves. I grabbed my bottle and handed it to him.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked. Mike’s breath was coming out shallow and quick. “Should I call nine one one?”
“Yeah, you better. Looks like he might have heatstroke or something.” Seth poured some of the water over Mike’s bald head and patted his cheek. “Mike, can you hear me?”
I pulled off my gloves and got out my phone. While I gave the 911 dispatcher directions, Rick started yelling for everyone to get back. “What the hell happened?”
“He just collapsed,” Seth said.
“Shit. We need to call for help.” Rick glanced around, and when he met my gaze, I motioned I was already on it. It took only ten minutes before we heard the wail of sirens, and though Mike had opened his eyes, he was mumbling incoherently.
“Everyone back on the bus,” Rick yelled as the paramedics came rushing over with a stretcher. “We’ll head back to the Works building and call it a day. I have to get in touch with Mike’s emergency contacts and let them know what’s going on.”
We all tied off our bags and left them for pickup before climbing onto the bus. I watched out the window as the EMTs loaded Mike into the ambulance. His eyes were open, but there was a clear mask on his face.
The air was thick inside the bus, making it hard to take a full breath. Sweat dripped into my eyes, so I unzipped the coveralls and pushed them off my arms. I blew out hot breaths trying to cool off my forehead.
God, no wonder Mike passed out.
This should fall under cruel and unusual and unnecessary punishment.
“So, boys and girls, once you get back to the Works building, remember to pick up your time forms before you go. Because of the circumstances, I’ll give you all credit for a full day today.”
Seth had slid into the seat across from me when we boarded, and his head was tilted back, resting against the seat. His coveralls were peeled down to reveal a dark gray T-shirt that hugged his chest.
I tried not to stare too much. I was already hot enough as it was.
“So, you got big plans for all this free time?” I asked him.
“Nah. Probably just head across town since I have to end up there by five thirty anyway.”
Right. Friday. Seth had to check in with his parole officer.
I had nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon, and the thought of grabbing my things and hitting the pool at the apartment complex sounded like heaven right about now. I must have been smiling because the next thing I knew, Seth poked me on the arm.
“Whatever you’re thinking about must be damned good.”
“Definitely,” I said with a grin.
I glanced at Seth out of the corner of my
eye and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. The urge to ask him to come with me clogged in my throat and made my heart beat faster. It was the perfect opportunity.
Shari said I needed to let go a little, to have some fun.
And I really didn’t want to say goodbye to Seth just yet. Especially when I wouldn’t see him for an entire weekend. There was no denying that things had shifted between us. He didn’t glare at me now. There was something else in his eyes, something that made me want to rip off all my clothes and lie down at his feet for the taking.
My palms grew sweatier. What if I asked him and he said no? What if he laughed at me? Sure, he almost kissed me, and sure, we spent the morning talking like actual friends, but maybe it meant nothing more to him than passing the time.
By the time the bus pulled into the parking lot, I was a hot mess. Literally. With my hair plastered against my face, I went into the locker room to take off the hideous jumpsuit. Air hit my bare legs, and I sighed in relief.
I usually never wore cutoffs away from the pool, but after that first week encased in polyester, wearing minimal clothing underneath the jumpsuit was essential for survival. The tank top I had on stuck to me like a second skin, but there was nothing I could do about it. A quick stop at the sink to splash some cold water on my face and retie my ponytail and I was good to go.
I pushed out of the locker room slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Seth, but the lobby was empty except for Rick. I had dragged my feet on purpose, but now that I could see Seth wasn’t there, all I felt was disappointment.
I walked slowly over to Rick’s desk, my flip-flops slapping against the linoleum.
“Here’s your time slip for this week.” Rick handed me my paper. “I need to head to the hospital. Avery, do you need me to walk you to your car?”
Rick glanced at the doors and I saw Seth already halfway across the parking lot. Clearly he had forgotten all about me already. Probably had a date or something tonight.
“I’m going in that direction. I really don’t mind,” Rick said.
He must have mistaken my silence for agreement.
He pushed out of his chair, walked over to the glass door, and held it open for me. I followed him out, and the blast of hot air took my breath away. The blacktop sucked up the sun and radiated it back up, making it feel a hundred degrees hotter. Even in my shorts and tank top, a layer of sweat covered my face in no time.
