A Calculated Romance

by Violet Sparks

  Landi kept her hands on his shoulders and retreated, putting more distance between them. The man just tightened his grip on her waist and smiled a disarming toothy grin.

  "I'm sure he has. Ireland, you're easy to be kind to. You're sweet, beautiful, and humble. I may have to monopolize you the rest of the evening." He beamed down at her. "I don't intend to dance with my sister, Kiki's being dominated by that big cowboy whom I don't dare tangle with, and Sue—well, Sue's too much for me to handle."

  He dipped his head and whispered the last part in her ear, evoking a laugh from the girl at last. Mission accomplished, a satisfied expression spread across his attractive face. He pulled Landi closer, causing her to giggle. They didn't notice James glaring at them from across the room.

  The song finished, and 1940's big band music boomed from the speakers. Doug grabbed Landi's hand and spun her an arm's length from him before yanking her back against his side with another twirl. The slick soles of her new shoes allowed for the smooth maneuver. The girl's jaw dropped, and she gasped for air.

  "I—I don't know how to dance, Doug, please—"

  Before she could finish her sentence, he'd rotated around her, looping one of her arms over his shoulders.

  "Hang on, Sweetheart," he said before repositioning her hands and whirling around at a speed that caused her feet to leave the ground.

  Apparently, Douglas LaSalla was an expert swing dancer. Landi clung to him for dear life.

  "Now, I'm going to reel you out again," he said through clinched teeth, like a ventriloquist.

  The man twirled her an arm's length, then back to his side, before turning her body and dipping her backwards. She could swear her head missed the wood floor by an inch. Before she knew what was happening, he'd lifted her in the air, instructing her to place her hands on his shoulders. Somehow, he swung her through his legs, then back into an upright position. He grasped both her hands in his own, yanked her to his chest, and spun around, stepping back and forth to the rhythm of In The Mood. With one hand at the small of her back, Doug managed to guide her in the dance, and she caught on to the easy, repetitive part quickly. One last rotation out and in, with a big dip over his arm as a finish, and the dance was over.

  The guests erupted into applause as Ireland gasped for breath. Glancing around, she realized everyone else had deserted the floor to observe their routine, or rather Doug's performance. He took a bow, pulling her by the hand down with him.

  "You're a natural, Baby!" he said from behind his grin. She found it odd that his lips never moved when he spoke like that.

  Relieved the ordeal was over, she broke into a nervous smile, then peels of laughter. Doug pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head before drawing her from the floor as the mistress of ceremonies announced the father-of-the-bride dance.

  "Let's get something to drink," he said, trotting towards the bar and dragging her along.

  "Just a cola for me," she told the barkeep.

  "I thought you didn't know how to dance." An icy voice filled her ear.

  She turned to see Jim standing behind her, drink in hand. He'd consumed more alcohol since they parted. Scorn and disapproval reeked from his tone and countenance.

  "Looks like you could teach me a few things," he added in a low, condescending tone that cut her to the soul.

  Landi's mouth dropped open, and she felt her lower lip quiver. She could not abide being called a liar. She felt obliged to explain, but Doug came to her rescue before she could say anything. He draped an arm over her shoulder and squeezed her so tightly she thought he might crack a rib. She tried to disguise her wince as a grin and held her breath, afraid that if her torso expanded, a bone would puncture her lung.

  "Looks like I found a new partner," he boomed, giving the girl another press. She felt like a contracting accordion each time he clutched her.

  She lifted her eyes just enough to see James clench his jaw and gnash his teeth. The now familiar pulse throbbed where the corner of his jaw met his neck, and his lips pressed together in a hard, thin line. Ever since they'd met, she had sensed a raw power beneath his calm exterior. Now, it frightened her. If he ever lost his temper, she feared what he might be capable of. She dropped her eyes and saw his hands ball into fists.

  Oh, no.

  She felt her fight or flight mechanism kick in, and as usual, wanted to bolt. She glanced at Douglas, who seemed not to notice his peril. Still smiling, the Italian downed his drink in one gulp, patted Jim on the back and strode from the bar, leaving Landi to face him alone.

  "I'll come find you after you've had a rest," he called over his shoulder with a laugh.

  Afraid to look him in the eye, she kept her head down, watching her chest heave with each breath. Even though he'd always been gentle with her, what she saw tonight confirmed her inkling that something dangerous lurked beneath Jim's surface.

  "Drink this," he commanded, shoving the glass with her cola into her hand.

  She obeyed, but noticed her hand shook. She could feel his eyes searing her skin and sensed he wanted to make eye contact. Still, she couldn't force herself to look up as several tense moments passed. Jim took the drink from her after she'd had a few sips and slammed it down on the bar.

  "You're coming with me," he said, yanking her wrist.

  He led her outside the ballroom. She followed like a child, afraid to resist or say anything. Once in the hall, he quickened his pace and darted around the first corner they came to. Landi found herself pinned against a wall, Jim's large hands pressing against her shoulders just enough to keep her in place but not cause pain.

  His head dropped between his shoulders so she could only see his thick, blonde locks. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair even now and beg him to accept her apology, although, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what she'd done wrong. Vintage black and white photos of the hotel lined the walls of the dim hall. No guests ventured nearby, and it felt as if they were alone in the world. Gradually, her breathing steadied and her heart stopped pounding. She caught the smell of citrus, which she took for Bergamot, leather, and a clean musk. She recognized his scent and inexplicably felt calmer.

  "Why did you lie?" he finally whispered, raising his head to look her in the eye.

  She held his gaze for what seemed like minutes, delving into his deep blue-grey irises, but said nothing. Eventually, he rested his forehead on hers and repeated his question.

  Landi placed her hands on his chest and pushed as hard as she could. He barely moved. After a second attempt, he eased away from her, but he kept his hands on her shoulders, thumbs resting on her exposed clavicle bones, should she try to run away.

  "I never lied to you," she said, her voice steady. She paused to drink in his scent, perhaps for the last time, and continued, "It's the shoes. The soles are new, and that makes them slippery. Doug's an expert swing dancer. He simply threw me around the floor. I told him I didn't know how to dance and tried to beg him to stop, but he ignored me. When I saw he knew what he was doing, I just went along with him. Was there any harm in that, James?"

  She watched his jaw shift back and forth as he processed her reply. His expression softened more with each second as she searched his countenance for his answer. He'd lost his bow tie and loosened his collar at some point. His bad behavior did nothing to detract from his male model good looks. On its own, her hand went to the scar above his eye. Her light touch broke through whatever doubts he harbored.

  James shook his head. He felt like a cad. The sweetest, most innocent girl he'd ever met stood before him asking him if she'd done anything wrong when he'd been the one out of line. He had found her so irresistible on the dance floor that he'd almost told her the truth about his job. Then, he felt like a fool when he saw her dancing with Doug. Now, her open expression and sincere tone spoke of her innocence.

  "No. There was no harm in anything you did, Ireland. I apologize. Why don't you go back in and enjoy yourself?"

  "Aren't you coming?"
Her soft voice tempted him beyond measure.

  "A little later. I've got something to take care of," he lied.

  The trusting girl slipped away from him, but not before he noticed the red marks his hands had left on her bare shoulders. He'd overreacted because not long ago, the supposed harmless lies of someone he cared for resulted in the death of one his men.

  When James did return to the ballroom, he sat at a table with strangers, in an out-of-the-way dark corner where he wouldn't be noticed by Ireland. He watched as she danced with the groom's cousin and other wedding guests, appearing to have a good time. Long before the reception broke up, she left with Doug. Jim told himself that regardless of that man being his sister's new in-law, he'd kill him if he laid a finger on Landi.

  Chapter 5

  -Mojave-

  It had been a late night for Landi, even if she did leave the party early. She couldn't imagine who pounded on her door at the break of dawn. At first, she tried to ignore the visitor, figuring some drunk had confused her apartment with his own. Whoever banged, they proved persistent. Out of patience and now fully awake from the noise, she grabbed her oversized chenille robe, a hand-me-down from her stepmom, wrapped the long belt around her waist twice, and tiptoed down the stairs. When she peered through the peep hole, her jaw dropped.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked, stunned, after yanking the door open.

  She looked James up and down, incredulous, her green eyes open wide and her brows arched in disapproval. He'd left his sister's wedding reception without saying goodbye, abandoning her to the mercies of that dancing fool, Douglas, and now, he woke her from much needed sleep.

  "We had a date," he said, proffering a lidded Styrofoam cup. "Here, I brought you a caramel latte as a peace offering."

  Still amazed, she took the coffee from his hand and watched as he sauntered up her stairs after giving her a good once-over and flashing his grin.

  How does he know I love caramel?

  "I don't remember agreeing to go out with you," she called after him, lifting the hem of her pink and mint green robe to climb the steps.

  "Sure you do. You said we'd go out to the desert to look for trilobites and geodes today. Now get dressed so we can hit the road," he commanded, then added nonchalantly, "you got home all right last night?"

  She poked her head outside her bedroom, where she'd retreated to dress.

  "Yes, Douglas proved quite gallant," she said, then slammed her door.

  James chuckled, more from relief than humor. He guessed she'd be appalled had she known he followed her home last night and watched the awkward exchange at her door. That rascal, Doug, had gone in for a kiss, which she'd deftly avoided. Instead, he got a taste of her cheek. Jim begrudged him even that. Switching cars with his dad and employing surveillance techniques he'd learned in the service, he remained invisible—a bit creepy, but necessary.

  He strode around the apartment, taking in the details of the girl's personal space. Everything appeared neat and tidy, compact and minimal. Two bar stools at a counter served as her eating area—the living and kitchen combined in one room. He saw no television, no photographs. An old stove and a small, humming refrigerator served as the main appliances, along with a new toaster. A cream love seat, a tiny, white washed coffee table, and a floral upholstered chair, circa 1940, filled the rest of the space. He wouldn't mind living in a place like this if he had a girl like Landi to share it with. He found himself curious about the details of her bedroom and what hid beneath that awful 1950's robe, but he redirected his thoughts before he got into trouble.

  The girl emerged minutes later, dressed in baggy jeans, a white T-shirt, green knit chunky cardigan, and hiking boots. She had a pair of canvas tennis shoes slung over her shoulder and her hair pinned up in a comb. As far as he could tell, she wore no makeup, but she appeared as lovely as ever. Landi looked disparagingly at his blue chambray shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

  "It will be cold the first couple of hours we're out. Do you have something to layer over that shirt?"

  "I have a jacket in the car," he said.

  She stepped into the kitchen and removed a milk bottle from the fridge.

  "I need to feed the cat before we go."

  "You have a cat?" he asked.

  "The alley has a cat. I just take care of him," she answered, trotting down the steps.

  Jim ran after her and watched as she poured the last of her milk into a small tin bowl out behind the building. She pointed to two glowing orbs in the shadows beneath an industrial-sized trash bin.

  "He won't come out because you're here. Normally, he purrs when I feed him."

  After locking up the apartment and arguing over whose car they should take, they headed east on the 10 freeway, out of Los Angeles. The sun rose before they reached Riverside County and merged onto the 15 highway. They reached Victorville by seven a.m., where they stopped for egg burritos at a fast food restaurant. At Barstow, they merged right on Interstate 40 and proceeded east towards Needles. The closer they came to their exit, the less Landi spoke. Something obviously troubled the girl.

  "Is there anything I should know before I let you march me into the desert?" he asked.

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know . . . if you have a police record, or some such fact of which I'm unaware," he said between laughs. He continued, "In all seriousness, you seem preoccupied. Is everything okay?"

  "Just memories, James. They get to me sometimes. I haven't been back here in a long time."

  "Well, you let me know when you've had enough, and we'll head back to LA," he said, smiling.

  "Will do," she agreed. "Here's our exit," she added.

  James took the off ramp and headed right, as Landi's pointing forefinger indicated. He found himself in the middle of nowhere, on a winding road lined with small white crosses indicating the spots where others had died in car accidents, or possibly from thirst. An old one-room school house or church, he couldn't tell which, proved the only building for miles.

  "Park up here," she said, directing Jim to a barely visible dirt road.

  "This is Cadiz?" he asked.

  "No. This is where we hike to a spot hardly no one else knows about. People depleted the good stuff from the hills around Cadiz decades ago. Didn't you say you'd been out here before?" She continued without waiting for an answer, "I'm taking you on private property to a place owned by a church friend's husband. They've been gone about five years, and their kids never come out here. We shouldn't see a soul," she added in a mischievous tone.

  Now, it was Landi's turn to grin. His earlier comments about her having a criminal past supplied fodder for teasing him. James moaned.

  "Here, take one of these," he said, reaching behind his seat.

  He handed her a large water bottle held in canvas netting with a shoulder strap. She pulled a small backpack from the back seat where she'd left it, and proceeded to the dirt lane. James donned his own knapsack and water bottle, catching up to her in double time. She had been correct. It was cold in the morning in the Mojave at this time of year. He noticed that the further they got from the main road, the more the girl relaxed.

  Mountains to the east kept the sun at bay. After a couple of miles, they reached a narrow opening between some hills. They left the cacti and sand behind for rock walls and a chilly breeze that whistled through the passage.

  "I used to ride a van to church every Sunday when I was a kid," she volunteered. "The other passengers befriended me. One was a lady whose husband had lived nearby his whole life. When she discovered my interest in geology, she invited me over. Her husband, elderly at that time, showed me this place."

  Ireland smiled, reliving the memory. James gladdened, knowing the girl had some pleasant experiences in her past. From what he'd observed, he feared she had encountered mistreatment or even abuse. He reached for her without thinking. She didn't pull away, and they continued hand in hand, fingers laced together, climbing a slight but steady incline.

&nbs
p; Ahead, they spotted bright sunlight.

  "Is that our destination?" James asked, pointing with his free hand.

  "Not quite," she said, a sly smile displayed on her face.

  "Hmm. You're full of surprises, aren't you, Landi?"

  "You'll have to wait to find out."

  Their route opened into a large box canyon. Piles of loose stones formed ramps to the cliff tops surrounding them. The sound of rushing water replaced that of the wind whooshing through their narrow trail.

  "A desert oasis?" he asked, one eyebrow lifted.

  Small shrubs and a few palm fronds spotted the terrain near the stream.

  "Just a spring—rare in the Mojave."

  The sun climbed high enough in the sky to light the opposite side of the chasm. Landi plopped down on a flat stone next to the water and exchanged her hiking boots for the canvas tennies she'd stashed in her bag. She took off her cardigan and tied it to her back pack, took a swig of water from her bottle, rolled up her jeans, and started across the brook.

  "Whoa, wait a minute!" James yelled. "Let me go first," he added, catching up to her. His voice echoed back and forth across the canyon, causing the couple to laugh.

  "Suit yourself," she said, stepping back onto the bank.

  She watched the man transverse the channel, choosing which stones to step upon with care. She could see his muscles bunch and strain as necessary when he tried to keep his balance and fight the current. After arriving at the other side, he gestured for her to come over. She'd made it half way when he reached for her hand and pulled her the rest of the way across, tugging upward and lifting her feet above the gushing water. Landi collided with his chest, hard, on the far bank.

  "Sorry," he said, an amazed look spreading across his face. He gripped her by the upper arms, making sure she didn't fall backwards into the creek after their encounter.

  "What?" she said defensively, unable to read his expression.

  He shook his head. "I'm always surprised at how light you are. How can bones and flesh weigh so little?" he said as if to himself, causing the girl to blush.