by T. Torrest
I went back to chewing but then realized my mother had fallen silent. When my brain replayed what I’d just said, I felt like an asshole. I put my fork down and met her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ma.”
She bypassed the guilt trip and instead got up from her seat to kiss me on the forehead. “I know you are. Speaking of your father, don’t forget that he’s expecting to see you at his office today. He wants you there by three-thirty.”
I checked the clock and slammed down the rest of the chicken while Mom wrote down some directions on a notepad near the phone. I thanked her, threw the container into the sink, then hopped back into my truck to head downtown.
I had to drive through the main stretch of Norman again, noticing a few new places that I hadn’t seen before. A diner, a bakery, a barber shop... It really was a nice town.
Cute.
Quaint.
Yawn.
From what I could tell, the best thing it had going for it was Layla Warren. How a town like this could produce a girl like that was beyond my comprehension. She belonged in a Noxzema commercial, not hidden away in this snooze of a suburb. She was bigger than this place.
Just like me.
I passed by my school, hung a right past the mall, and made a left onto Main into the industrial park. The further I ventured in, the more the landscape changed from old-fashioned and homey to sleek and modern. Lots of white concrete office buildings with miles of blue-glass windows. I pulled in front of number 12 and parked near the main entrance.
After checking in with the guard at the lobby desk, he directed me to the correct office. TRU Realty Group was located on the first floor, behind two large glass doors that led to a reception area. The woman behind the front desk greeted me with a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon. Can I help you?”
She was cute. Dark hair, probably around twenty-five, friendly... and she was definitely checking me out. That was nothing new. I looked a lot older than seventeen.
I took note of the name plaque on her desk before introducing myself. “Hi Debra. I’m Trip.”
“Well, hello there, Trip. What can I do for you?”
“Well, for starters, I guess you could direct me to my father’s office?”
Debra’s come-hither grin was replaced with a staggered and stuttering, “O-oh, you’re Mr. Wilmington’s son.” She regained her composure enough to add, “He’s in the conference room,” before pointing around the corner to a large, glass-enclosed area.
“Thanks, Debra. Nice meeting you.”
Call me an asshole, but I couldn’t resist tossing her a wink.
Her smile returned as she replied, “You too!”
Warily, I entered my father’s office. I didn’t know what kind of mood he’d be in. It was after three, which meant that my odds were even either way. Thankfully, he seemed to be in good spirits as he smiled and waved me in. “Terrence! Find the place okay?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
He lowered an eyebrow in mock rebuke. “Don’t crack wise with me, boy.”
We both chuckled as I explained, “Mom drew me a map.”
“That sounds about right. Here. Let me show you around.”
The tour started in the conference area and took me through three private offices before ending in the records room. The entire time, Dad was explaining what jobs he’d have for me, how often he’d expect me to be there, how I was expected to conduct myself around his clients. “...And you’ve already been through reception, so you’ve met Debra. She’ll be able to answer any questions for you when I’m not here.”
“Yeah, she’s cute,” I said. “Mom know you’ve got a hottie working reception?”
“Mom is the one who recommended her, smartass. She’s the daughter of an old friend.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. I kept forgetting they actually knew people in this town. “So, what do you say? Think it’s something you can handle?”
“Yeah, sure,” I shrugged. “You get the extra hand and I get to avoid the hassle of finding a job on my own.”
“Well, good,” he answered, holding out his hand so we could shake on it. “I’ll need you here Monday through Thursday. You can start tomorrow.”
“I can start today,” I blurted out. After pulling my disappearing act the week before, I wanted him to see I was ready to take on some real responsibility, see that I had a good work ethic.
“Okay...” He scanned his eyes across the multitude of boxes stacked around the room. “I guess you can start by unpacking all these boxes and putting all the folders into the filing cabinets.” As if I wasn’t familiar with the concept of a filing cabinet, he added, “Make sure you alphabetize them!”
“Alphabetical order. Got it.”
“That should keep you busy for a few days. When you’re done, I’ll find something else for you to do. Sound good?”
Thirty minutes later and I was already bored out of my mind. I’d have to remember to bring in a radio tomorrow so I’d have some background music to accompany the endless wonder of filing duty. And then, after all these folders were transferred, I’d be expected to start cold-calling potential business contacts.
Fun.
Chapter 3
GETTING LUCKY
I needed to go for a run. I hadn’t seen much of Norman beyond the main drags, so I figured I could map out the town while getting some exercise. Kill two birds with one stone.
It was still dark as I set out running down our long, steep driveway, hitting the button on the fob clipped at my waist to open the gate at the bottom.
Jesus. Yet another gated house in yet another gated community. I swear, I’ve been living behind bars my entire life.
I ran past the gatehouse and gave the morning guard a wave, then continued through to the center of town. Past the shops and around the bend was Lenape Lake, another tiny subset of Norman proper. The sun had started its rise by then, shooting flecks of bronze across the water, and for whatever reason, I found myself thinking about Layla Warren.
The lap around the lake was marked, showing that I’d logged two entire miles by the time I made it back to the pub where I’d started. I turned the corner toward home again just as the sunlight seeped into the street.
Once I hit Cedar, I started into a sprint, keeping up the faster pace past the gatehouse and all the way up North Road. I didn’t stop running until I hit my driveway, where I bent over in exhaustion trying to catch my breath. I’d have to log the distance in my truck to be sure, but I estimated I’d just run close to five miles.
I showered, dressed, and got my gear together. St. Nicetius didn’t have a hockey team, but I was looking forward to checking out that sports complex Dad told me about to see if I could grab some ice time after work a few days a week until the official season kicked off.
After my Bronco was loaded, it was time to head off to school.
Day Two.
* * *
First period was World History where Mr. Sasso proved no more electrifying than he’d been yesterday, followed by AP Biology where some girl named Barbara slipped me her phone number, followed by Computer Lab where the redhead picked up where she’d left off the day before. Turns out, her name was Margie, and she was dead set on letting me know she was very available, which I couldn’t have cared less about. It’s not that she was a bad-looking broad, I just wasn’t into redheads.
Or aggravation.
Lunch period was a welcome reprieve from my monotonous morning. I didn’t even need to think about it before sitting down at the Alpha Table. It was an unspoken acceptance.
Rymer was already in full ballbusting mode, taking shots at Sargento for his piano tie which had us all cracking up.
And then I saw Layla.
She came over to the table with her pretzel and didn’t bother to say hi as she sat down next to Lisa. I’d spent the past twenty-four hours trying to convince myself that my reaction to her had been overblown, but she looked just as gorgeous as I’d remembered from the day before.
Before I had the
chance to say hello, I noticed Cooper scowling at me for merely aiming my eyes in her direction. Damn, if looks could kill. I wondered if he was her boyfriend. He sure as hell was acting territorial enough to be.
The guys were talking about the party again, and I was glad to be reminded that there’d finally be some action in this town. But really, I was only half paying attention. I was too busy waiting for Layla to acknowledge my existence while simultaneously hoping Cooper Benedict would ignore it. Dude was a hulking monster, and apparently a jealous one at that.
I was grateful for the distraction when Rymer started in on him, busting his ass. “Dude. Your sister totally wants me. You gotta tell her to come to my party Saturday night.”
Cooper aimed a warning look across the table. “Shut up, Rymer. I mean it.”
“What?” he said on a shit-eating grin, ignoring his friend’s threat. “She’s hot. I’m not supposed to notice how hot she is?”
Rymer took a break in his goading to cram a meatball sub into his maw, talking over his mouthful of food. “Trip,” he garbled, forcing my eyes from Layla to acknowledge him. “You gotta see this girl. God bless her, she’s a total slut. And you can almost forgive the fact that she’s a complete bitch ‘cause she has an amaaaazing ass.” He cupped his hands in front of his chest to add, “And tits bigger than DeSanto’s!”
Thankfully, Cooper wasn’t looking at me when I broke out in laughter. Everyone else was cackling away too, so it’s not like I could be blamed for joining in. Coop was too busy shoving Rymer to notice what I was doing anyway. Which was a good thing. The guy was already pissing a circle around his girlfriend, I didn’t need to give him more ammunition to kick my ass by making fun of his sister.
Lisa threw a meatball at Rymer’s chest in retaliation which had us laughing even harder.
“What the fuck, DeSanto?” he asked in bewilderment as he grabbed for a stack of napkins to wipe himself off. “Learn how to take a compliment.”
Sarge did a literal spittake at that, causing soda to spray across the table all over Cooper’s food. Coop froze in shock for about three seconds before he swapped his tray out for Sargento’s. “Enjoy your lunch, dildo.”
Man, they were a funny bunch. My friends back in Indiana knew how to have a good time, but I don’t ever remember them being nearly as entertaining as these guys.
We were all still busy cracking up, so I was caught off guard as Rymer looked up from the greasy sauce stain on his chest. “Hey, yo, Warren! You meet Trip yet?”
Layla flicked her eyes in my direction, an innate politeness overriding her surprise at having been called out. “Yes. We’re in Mason’s together.” She turned fully toward me and asked, “How’s it going?”
Her obviously strained effort to appear laid-back amused me. I couldn’t help but smile as I busted her chops. “It’s good, Layla. How’s it going for you?”
Her eyes widened for the briefest second. I think maybe she was surprised that I actually remembered her name. But she regained her composure enough to answer casually, “All good.”
After the bell rang, we all threw out our stuff before parting ways for our next class. As it turned out, Layla’s locker was right outside the cafeteria, so I waited behind her while she grabbed her books. She yelped as she stood back up, surprised to see me there. She placed a hand to her chest and mimed a heart attack before I explained, “I just thought we could walk to class together. That’s okay, right?”
Layla laughed, “Yeah, sure, duh.”
She had this adorably goofy face when she said that which made me chuckle. I couldn’t help it. This girl was something else.
“You okay there, pal?” I asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. I don’t know where the hell I got off pawing her like that; for whatever reason, touching her just came about naturally. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until she was pressed against my side.
It felt good.
She wriggled out of my grasp, asking, “Hey, can you hold on a sec?”
She beelined for some underclassman’s locker mirror while digging through her purse, coming up with a tube of lipstick. And then, God help me, she leaned over the poor bastard’s back to swipe it across her mouth. The kid wasn’t the only one with a gaped jaw as he watched those gorgeous full lips turn from pink to red.
So fucking sexy.
To make matters worse, she turned toward me and met my eyes dead-on as she slid a fingertip along the corner of her mouth. “You ready?”
I was pretty much stunned speechless, but managed to reclaim some tiny semblance of cool to answer her. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”
She turned on her heel and I followed her into class before slipping into my seat behind her. My eyes tightened as I stared at the back of her head, trying to assess this girl in front of me. I was kind of blown away by her. I’d never experienced such an instantaneous attraction to someone before. It wasn’t just that she was hot—I mean, she was definitely hot—but there was something about her beyond the good looks that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Something I couldn’t ignore.
* * *
My truck idled as I sat in the parking lot after school, listening to the radio, stalling for time. I told myself I’d get moving after Aerosmith was through playing, but I was pretty sure I was lying to myself.
Needless to say, I was really not looking forward to going to work.
Yesterday had been fine, but today I had an overwhelming sensation of impending dread. Dad had been pretty cool since Sunday, but that only meant I was playing against the odds. It stressed me out waiting to find out whether I’d be meeting up with Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, and knowing the pattern only reinforced that I was most likely in for it today.
Third time’s a charm.
I resigned myself to my fate and finally put the truck in gear. As soon as I turned out of the lot, I saw Layla walking along the curb. She’d traded in her uniform for a pair of black pants and a pink blouse. It was the first time I’d seen her in normal clothes... and she looked great.
I pulled up real slow and cracked the passenger window open an inch. Disguising my voice in a creepy baritone, I delivered this beaut of a line: “Hey, little girl, ya want a ride?”
She totally ignored me.
“Hey little girl,” I said again, a bit louder. “Ya want some candy?”
Once I saw her shoulders tense, I figured it was time to end the game. I laughed uncomfortably as I rolled down the window. “Whoa, Layla, hold up. It’s just me!”
She spun on her heel and met my face with a dropped jaw, smacked the passenger door of my truck, and laughingly called me an idiot. “I thought you were some stalker pervert trying to kidnap me, you jerk!”
“I know! Holy shit that was funny. You should have seen your face. I thought you were gonna start running.”
Her gaping mouth turned into a sly grin. “Running, huh? You should have been so lucky.” She pulled her hand from her purse and dangled a mini canister in front of her face.
Holy shit. “What the hell? Is that mace?”
She looked rather proud of herself as she shot back, “Yes. Another minute, and I would have used it, too.” She gave up the pretense of bravery as she shook her head at her feet. “But God, I’m really glad I didn’t have to. You scared the hell out of me!”
Scared the hell out of her? I was only trying to bust her chops. It was never my intention to frighten her, and I suddenly felt really bad. “Hey. I’m sorry for scaring you. Let me make it up to you. Where you going? I’ll drive you.”
She bit her lip before answering, “I’m only going to the mall. It’s real nearby.”
Damn she was cute.
“Doing a little shopping?”
“No. Looking for a job.”
“Good for you. Hey c’mon. After freaking you out, the least I can do is give you a ride. C’mon. Hop in.” Layla rolled her eyes, but stepped up into the passenger seat, buckling up as I put the truck in gear. “So
, where to, Miss Daisy?”
“Um... I guess you can drop me at the far end. I can take it from there.”
“As you wish.”
Even with the scent of the warm afternoon pouring through my open windows, I could still smell her piña colada hair. It was like an overdose of summer.
Layla wasn’t exactly basking in the vibe, however. She was kind of fidgety, actually flinching when I reached over to change the radio station.
I suppressed my smile at that as she asked, “Do you have a job?”
“Yeah,” I said, restlessly drumming the steering wheel. “I work for my father at his office. Just phone calls and filing and stuff.”
“Oh, so you’re a secretary,” she teased.
“Oh, so you’re a comedian,” I teased back. “You think maybe they’re hiring comedians at the mall? You could probably earn good money spewing all that top notch material from behind the Chess King counter.”
She bypassed acknowledging my dig and asked, “Do you like it?”
I scratched the back of my hair to answer, “My job? Yeah, it’s fine I guess.” I took the next turn a little too sharp causing Layla to grab the holy shit bar above the window. “Actually, it sucks. I fuckin’ hate working there.”
I stewed in silence for a beat until we pulled up in front of the mall and I threw the truck in park. “You look nice, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She stared at me for an extra second, but before I could decipher the look on her face, she hopped out of the cab. She closed the door and spoke to me through the open window. “Hey, thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome.”
“See you tomorrow?”
I winked and said, “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
She gave me a shy smile and turned to head inside. The sight of her walking away from me triggered a small, unexplained panic. I wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her, figure her out. At the very least, I wasn’t ready for her to leave. “Hey Layla!”
