“Nic, Don was there for me when I needed, but as far as getting over him, I am. There hasn’t been anyone since Don because I’m scared.” Before she can give me the “It’s like riding a bike,” speech, I go to get the kids. I can’t deal with her opinions about my life. I could say the same thing since she is hung up on a guy who couldn’t care less if she was around or not.
Nicarra’s three kids dominate the conversation. Cooper, at eleven years old, the spitting image of his dad with his black hair and blue eyes, is talking about trying out for the basketball team. Jameson, nine years old, who looks more like me than his parents with his brown hair and hazel eyes, is very animated when telling a story about his classmate. Tony, the baby of the group at six years old, looks just like Nicarra—long, brown hair, dark eyes, and a button nose—is talking about his favorite class which would be gym. Jonathan treats them like they are his age so when they meet his friends here, they fit in. It makes me sad to think that he’ll never have siblings just built-in cousins with my circle of friends.
We say our goodbyes with lots of hugs and plans for the weekend. Jonathan and I get into my car and head home.
Max
I slam the door to my apartment. It’s the first night in my new place, and I almost rip that guy’s head off. At first, I thought I stumbled upon a lover’s quarrel, but seeing the look in those deer-caught-in-a-headlight hazel eye, they begged for help as I saw how hard she was fighting not to cry. Something snapped in my brain when I noticed the young kid looking from the doorway of my new neighbor’s apartment. I was a witness to physical abuse daily between my biological dad to my biological mom then learning about my adopted dad abusing Abby. I flop onto the couch remembering the conversation. I mentally smack my forehead for being so stupid; I can’t believe I made the comment about pain and pleasure to her in front of her kid.
I start flipping channels to see if something sports related will calm my restlessness. Back in Pennsylvania, I would go to my home gym in my basement to work out my frustration, rage, and anger. In this new town, I don’t know where anything is, so I grab my iPad to google gyms nearby. I’m happy to know there are a few located between here and Abby’s apartment.
I never thought my life was going to be like this. As I survey my two-bedroom apartment, I’m hit with a sense of loneliness that I haven’t felt since my biological mother died at the hands of my father. The walls of this apartment are starting to close in on me as I see all the boxes that I need to unpack. I have a path to the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and my gaming system, but that’s it. I need to get out. I saw that there was a basketball court near the side of the building, so I’ll go there.
“Fuck,” I howl as the corner of a box finds my crotch. I kick the box over and go to my room to find my basketball. Sarah helped me pack up the house that we were sharing as Abby had already moved down here with her husband. I’ll never do that again; reaching into a box, I pull out a thong. I look into the box and see that it is all her clothes. Sarah didn’t even mark the boxes so I bet she has my stuff too. I toss the box in my closet with the rest of her boxes. I finally find my ball in the last place I would expect to find it—the bathroom. It’s almost forty-five minutes before I can leave my apartment. Grabbing my keys, and with the ball on my hip, I lock up my place. As I walk past my sexy neighbor’s place, I raise my hand up to knock but stop myself. She has a kid; I never hook up with a woman who has a kids. It’s a deal breaker for me, but it sucks because those long legs of hers would be perfect to have wrapped around me as I pound into her up against the wall. I shake my head to get that thought out of my head before I start showing my hard-on. I keep walking past her door, and I almost stop at this dickhead’s place to make sure he got the warning, but I don’t want any trouble tonight.
I get to the far end of the basketball court, and I hear this laugh that goes straight to my heart. There is something about the reaction I get listening to this woman laughing that has me intrigued to find out more about her because this hasn’t happened to me. I stop dead in my tracks as I walk closer to where the laughing is coming from, and it’s my sexy neighbor with her kid. I spin around to head back to my place when the kid, I think his name was Jonathan, yells at me, “Dude, do you play?”
“Dude? Are you a surfer from the valley?” I snicker. He runs toward me so we are now face to face. Sexy neighbor stands over by the hoop listening to the conversation.
“Dude!” He flips his hair to the other side and does the “Hang Ten” gesture with his thumb and pinky. I can’t help but like this kid. Jonathan motions for me to follow him as he hurries back to his mom who is clutching the basketball to her chest looking nervous as she rocks side to side on her feet. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for my aunt today. Creepy Chad has been trying to get into her pants for a while now.” I slap him on the back of the head like Gibbs always does to Tony from NCIS.
“Don’t talk like that about women, especially your aunt. Show some respect.” He rubs the back of his head. The aunt starts to come closer to him and stands between us.
“I’m okay, I deserved it.” She moves her back to stand near him, but he shifts in front of her. I like how this kid protects his aunt. “Creepy Chad has been doing shit like that for two years since he moved into the apartment complex. She has mace in her purse and even told the landlord, but he does nothing.”
“What about self-defense classes?” I’m intrigued as to why a beautiful woman with a neighbor like that hasn’t defended herself. Jonathan leans into me so he doesn’t bring attention to his aunt.
“She can’t afford it.” He stands up tall and takes the ball from his aunt to shoot a layup. “Wanna play with us? We’re just shooting, being goofy, and having fun.”
“I’d like that.” I smile at him as he moves behind his aunt and pushes her to get closer to me. She seems really shy, but there’s look in her eyes I know all too well—guarded.
“Since you know my name, this hottie over here—” he motions to his aunt as she pushes him “—is Aunt Reagan, but you can call her Reagan or hottie.” She slaps him in the back of the head like I did earlier. “Dude, watch the hair.” She just laughs at him as she throws the ball at his head, but he ducks.
“Oh, I’m Reagan,” she squeaks out as she tries to run away from Jonathan. I decide to get in on this family fun, and I motion to Jonathan about running past me so I can scoop her up. He nods, coming to me, so I grab him by the waist and Reagan tickles him resulting in and eruption of girly screams. I can’t stop laughing as he screams, “Stop. Stop it. Please, I beg of you” in-between his laughing and trying to swat her away.
“Say the words,” she says in a teasing tone.
“You’re the goddess of all things torture.” He’s trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard.
“Okay, the boy has suffered enough,” Reagan tells me as she bends over, holding her sides, trying to control her breathing as well. I let Jonathan go and he pushes me.
“Dudes stick together. You must be new, so I’ll teach you the ways of Miami.” He grabs his ball and starts shooting hoops. I like this kid.
“I’m Max, by the way.” I hold my out to shake Reagan’s hand. She grabs my hand, and I feel this jolt, kind of like static electricity, but strong. She must feel it too because we release hands and stare at each other. What the fuck was that?
We shoot hoops for an hour before Reagan calls it quits. “Jonathan, shower then bed. You have school in the morning.” He groans and starts to argue but runs ahead of us when Reagan starts to count. It’s just the sexy neighbor and myself walking toward the apartment complex.
“Thank you for earlier. Chad isn’t usually like that. He’s pretty creepy but never got physical before today. I don’t know if you heard him or not, but he blamed me for the way I dress and act for him getting physical like that.” I stop dead in my tracks. Did I hear her right?
“Reagan, look at me.” I don’t talk or move until she is staring in my eyes. “It doe
sn’t matter if you were naked walking up those stairs, if a woman says no, then no is the answer. Don’t be ashamed of what you wear or say, and how you act. It’s on him, not you.” She wipes the tears that are flowing down her cheeks. “What about self-defense classes?” I question her, knowing that I already know the answer, but I want to get her reaction if she would be willing to get them.
“I can’t afford it,” she whispers as we start walking up the steps.
“What if I taught you? Free of charge. I took a class to get certified, plus I did teach my sister and her best friend. A little too well, because Abby can kick my ass.” I smile as she starts laughing, checking me out to see how my sister can beat me up. When she gets to my chest, I make my pecs bounce up and down. She rolls her eyes and pushes on my chest. I hold on to her hand. “Please let me do this for you.”
“I’m not a charity case, Max.” She pulls her hand from mine and stands in the doorway of her apartment.
“I didn’t say you were one, but if I can help protect you when I’m not around, then I’ll do whatever it takes for you to say yes.” She sags her shoulders.
“I would need to pay you back somehow.” I start to argue with her, but she puts up her hand to shut me up. “How about at least once a week come over for a home-cooked meal?”
“Aunt Reggy is a kickass cook. My parents and her owned—” With a death glare from Reagan, Jonathan goes back into the house. Reagan and Johnathan share the same expression on their faces, one of pain. I need to find out what this is about so I know not to bring it up.
“What do you say?” she asks me with those beautiful hazel eyes that I like looking into, and I know that she is going to have me wrapped around her finger. I think I’m goner.
“I say deal.”
“All right, I need to make sure he is getting ready for bed. It was nice meeting you even though they were under bad circumstances. Welcome to the neighborhood, Max.” She waves at me as she closes the door.
“Good night, beautiful,” I say the door shuts, but I’m not sure if she heard me or not.
Reagan
“Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus is playing in my ear. I open my eye to where the song is coming from and spot my alarm clock. It’s five AM, and too early for me to be up. I slam the snooze button, throwing the blankets over my head for a few minutes of sleep before I hear Jonathan yelling at me to get up.
“Aunt Reagan, wake up. It’s almost eight. We overslept, and I missed the bus.” He shakes me as he informs me of the predicament that we’re in. He’s lucky that I wear clothes to bed now since he decides ripping my blankets off of me would be a good way to get me up. When he was younger, shortly after moving in with me and Don, he got a glimpse of a naked uncle. Ever since then, pajamas are the way to go. I finally register the words that he is saying to me.
“What the?” I sit straight up. “It was just five. I hit the snooze button.” I’m frantic as I go to get out of bed—my foot is wrapped around the sheet, and I fall flat on my face. “Fuck.” I stand, checking myself out to see if I’m bleeding. I’m glad that I got a shower last night after Jonathan went to bed. I survey the face, and I’m not bleeding. I also don’t think it’s going to bruise. Bonus.
“Aunt Reagan, we have to go in twenty minutes, or I’m going to be late.” I decide to take a quick shower after all just to feel refreshed then I run into my room to get dressed—today will be a jeans and somewhat dressy shirt kind of day.
“Jonathan, let’s go,” I yell as I’m coming out of my room putting on my cubic zirconia studded earrings. I move my hair off my shoulders and see Jonathan is on his game. I’m frozen in my tracks when I see Max playing with him.
“Good morning. I stopped over to use your coffee machine. I can’t seem to find mine,” Max lets me know the questions I was about to ask him.
“I’d be a bear without coffee.” I’m in the kitchen trying to get my travel mug ready so we can get our rushed morning started.
“I hope you don’t mind.” He puts the remote down telling him that they continue after his homework is done tonight. Max’s words toward Jonathan last night and today go straight to my heart. I bet everyone in the apartment can hear how loud my heart is beating.
“It’s fine,” I stutter out as I knock over my coffee cup, spilling it all over the counter. “Fuck,” I start to clean up and make myself another cup. I hope this isn’t what my day is going to be like. “You’re more than welcome to use the coffee machine. I hate to be rude, but we’re running late.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I could’ve taken him to school. If you are running late, just ask me.” I shoo Max and Jonathan out the door. I lock up and turn around to bump right into his hard, muscular, sculpted chest. I just stay there for a few extra seconds, and seeing the smirk on Jonathan’s face—he knows I’m attracted to Max. “Have a good day,” he says as he looks down at me. “Both of you.” With that, he disappears back into his apartment.
Grabbing my briefcase and purse, I warn, “Not a word.” Jonathan holds his hands up in surrender as I push him toward the steps.
I arrive at the office about fifteen minutes late. No one says anything because we usually don’t have schedules, but I like to be at my desk by nine so I can check emails, voicemails and my schedule for the day. I try not to work past five because I don’t like leaving Jonathan alone for too long. I can’t afford any after school activities right now because I’ve also been paying the mortgage on the coffee shop for the last five years.
My boss, Spencer, comes into my office looking upset. He starts pacing my office, and I look at his face taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “What’s the matter, Spence?” I inquire as I motion for him to sit.
“I’m in trouble and not sure what to do.”
“What kind of trouble?” He had a gambling problem three years ago but as far as I know, he was seeking help for that. He sighs deeply as he sits down. He keeps bouncing his leg. I’ve been under Spencer Randall for ten years now and never seen him this upset.
“I gave Jenna a case, she practically begged for it. It turned out that she was involved with the husband of that family. She got caught up in a deadly domestic violence.” I gasp as my hand flies to my mouth in shock.
“Is-Is she alive?” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes, but she’s in jail. Jenna killed the wife.” Spencer puts his head into his hands and cries. I pull him into a half hug while he sobs. Spencer broke one of his own rules: never give a case to someone asking for a particular case. He’s blaming himself for this mess.
“Spencer, you didn’t know that she was involved with someone. Hell, I didn’t even know, and I’m the only one here who has worked with her the longest.” I get up and start my pacing. “We can distribute the cases around and follow up on her cases. The state is going to be over our private lives and personal connections to the families. Our focus can’t be on Jenna or the fact that you gave her a case that she shouldn’t have had. The families are the priority. You don’t get to sit here and pity yourself.” I come off as harsh but I’m disappointed in him for being so irresponsible. I get down to his level, to say, “Spence, we’ll get through this. Can I have access to her office and computer?”
“Yes. I’m going to call a staff meeting for this afternoon. I need to fill them in on this mess and explain the adding of more cases. I’m going to have to hire some more caseworkers. Do you think that you could have the cases separated?”
“I’m going to try to have it done.” We stand as we walk out of my office and into Jenna’s office. He pulls out his notebook of all passwords to different computers, then he leaves and I get to work.
After contacting all of the families to inform them that Jenna will no longer be their caseworker, they are confused on what I was talking about. They didn’t know a Jenna and have been waiting months for a caseworker. I apologize and promise that they will be seeing a caseworker within the week. Spencer is going to be in more trouble since he signed off on the government docu
ments that she falsified. I’m standing outside his door, and I’m not sure if he’s going to like what I have to say. I knock on his door and hear him say come in. I stand there for a moment, really looking at him. Spencer is fifty years old but this whole dilemma has him looking much older. I notice the wrinkles, frown lines around his mouth, and his face looking tired. He motions for me to sit as he’s on the phone. He grabs the bridge of nose and snaps at whoever he is talking to, “I understand that. Am I supposed to question everyone on their personal life? Hire a PI to follow them? Margaret, you’re not listening to me. Fine. Whatever. Bye.” He slams the phone down, and I jump. Margaret is not only his twin sister but the A.D.A. It must have been a bad conversation for Spencer to whatever her.
“Spencer, you aren’t going to like what I found out.”
“Tell me. Save the dramatics for your girlfriends.” I want to yell at him to stop treating the one person trying to save his neck like that.
“Jenna never saw anyone of her families in the last six months. She’s been doctoring the files, and you signed off on it.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know that she forged them?” he snaps at me. If Spencer wants to play this game, I will too. I stand up and lean onto his desk so I’m face to face with him.
“You do your damn job. You follow up. Spencer, you used to randomly pick a caseworker to shadow for a week, why didn’t you do that with her? Not once. She only had twenty cases compared to the thirty-five to forty that the rest of us have. I made appointments to meet with them with the caseworkers assigned with them, but know this, Spencer, if anyone of them are harmed in anyway, I’ll be seeing Margaret.” I head to the door to leave but stop when Spencer starts talking to me.
Love Me Like You Mean It Page 3
