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3 Ways to Wear Red

Page 2

by Janet Leigh


  Gertie yawned as she came into the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said, and I gave her the stink eye.

  She smiled sheepishly, and I couldn’t help but be happy for her. She had dated one loser after another until she finally connected with Brodie. It was a connection he had been blackmailed into; however, it turned out they had a lot more in common than he had anticipated, including equality in the sack. It was good she and I were both in relationships now. At least I thought I was. Caiyan used the term very loosely.

  “The moon cycle opens tonight at midnight,” Brodie said, taking a bite out of his breakfast. “Who are ya goin’ to travel with?” His Australian accent hacked off pieces of each word, and I felt as if I was having a conversation with Crocodile Dundee.

  “I don’t know for sure if I’m getting my key back, or if I’m going to be allowed to travel.”

  “You’re goin’,” Brodie said. “That little fucker Mitchell Mafuso has been flyin’ under the radar. You are the only one young enough to track him.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Gertie.

  “He’s been going back to the late nineteen eighties and early nineties. We can’t get to him, because the rest of us were already alive then, and ya know we can’t travel to a time when we’re already born.”

  That was true. I’d thought I was going to lose Caiyan in a previous travel, when the dummy had given his key to a beautiful rock star and hadn’t been able to get it back to make the travel home. The fact that he was being born in a week had never crossed his mind as he handed over his key.

  “At least I’ll have indoor plumbing,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee. “I doubt my boss will let me go anywhere alone.”

  “I dunno; he’s getting pretty desperate to get Caiyan’s key back.”

  “That’s just crap. Mitchell is using Caiyan’s key,” Gertie said. She made her way around the table, refilling everyone’s coffee and setting a plate of English muffins on the table.

  “Sure, it’s a slap in the face,” Brodie said. “The WTF even tried to trade Mitchell’s key back for Caiyan’s key, but the Mafusos refused.”

  “Why would they refuse?” I asked. This was news to me. I hadn’t realized they’d tried to make an exchange. “Wouldn’t Mitchell be happier with his own key?”

  “You forget—they have Caiyan’s vessel. We don’t know what Mitchell’s vessel looks like, and they know Caiyan can’t travel without a vessel.”

  It was true. We had captured Mitchell, the youngest member of the Mafuso family, on a previous travel. The Mafusos were deep in the Mafia and had a number of travelers running through their bloodline. They were the biggest brigand threat and were continuously trying to recruit new members, including Caiyan’s nephew, Campy, but we’d interceded, and now he was the youngest defender to work for the WTF.

  Currently, Campy was training and approved only for lateral travel. Occasionally, he would pop over, and we would have a Star Wars marathon together. He had his uncle Caiyan’s good looks and was already breaking hearts at his school in London.

  I offered Gertie a muffin, and she shook her head and frowned at me. I’d forgotten she was on a no-bread diet. I sent her an apologetic shrug and took one for myself.

  “Do you know where you are going this cycle?” I asked Brodie as I spread strawberry jam on my muffin.

  “Ace and I’ve been trying to find the vessel for the Thunder key we found in Ireland.” Brodie finished off another muffin and pulled Gertie into his lap. “We’ve been back to Ireland the past seven travels but can’t seem to find any trace of the vessel.”

  Gertie giggled as Brodie kissed her hard on the mouth.

  “You took it off a girl, right?” I asked and took a bite out of my muffin, the strawberry jam dropping to the plate.

  This made Gertie frown, because Brodie and Caiyan seemed to sacrifice their bodies to get keys and information in the past. I was actually comforted that Caiyan wasn’t time traveling, but there were still plenty of women right here in this time to be wary of.

  “We did. She was a pretty gal, looked a little like my Gertie.” The way he said “my Gertie” made her face turn a light shade of red.

  “But she didn’t have the gift, right?” I felt so disconnected from my team. During my suspension, I hadn’t been allowed even to attend any meetings.

  “No, she was a NAT,” Brodie said, finishing his coffee. “We don’t know where she got it. We had been back months and years prior to taking the key, and she never wore it until the night I snatched it from her pretty little neck.”

  “What’s a NAT?” Gertie asked.

  “You’re a NAT,” Brodie said, tapping Gertie on the tip of her nose. “Not-a-traveler.”

  “It’s a term usually reserved for people who have family connections to a traveler but don’t have the gift,” I added. I thought about the girl and the Thunder key. It didn’t really make sense that she had just given the key away.

  Gertie giggled, and they rubbed noses. Ick, my inner voice sighed, but the outer me tried to stay focused on the problem with the Thunder key. I was either going to follow Mitchell or go to Ireland with Brodie and Ace. I was hoping to follow Mitchell. Bathrooms and junk food were high on my priority list; however, if Mitchell was flying back to the ’90s, even I was too old.

  “Maybe you should go back after you take the key to see what happens,” I said, chewing on my muffin. “Whoever gave the girl the key surely would not be happy if she just gave it away to the first lusty Lawrence to come along.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” He thought about this for a moment. Then he ran his hand up Gertie’s leg, and they went back upstairs for round two.

  Chapter 2

  After a shower and an attempt at hair and makeup, I stood looking in the full-length mirror attached to the back of my bedroom door. Yellow smiley faces randomly sprinkled over bright-blue fabric stared back at me. I was constantly trying to get Mary, the office manager, to rethink the array of ridiculous scrubs we wore at the office. Eli thought they looked cute, but I felt like a poster child for an emoticon foundation. I headed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee for the road. Gertie was in the kitchen making an omelet.

  “Mmm…smells good,” I said to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, folding the egg over in a way that would make Paula Deen proud. “Ever since I started dating Brodie, I have been eating healthier. This omelet is egg whites, bell peppers, and onion. All organically grown, of course.”

  “Of course,” I echoed as I poured coffee into my to-go mug. “Where’s Brodie?”

  “He had to leave, something about a cow issue back home.” Brodie worked on his family ranch in Aussieland with his three brothers. He was the only one who had inherited the gene for time travel. Having a girlfriend in America was his excuse for the extended absences from home, and it worked out well for him.

  Gertie watched as I took a spoon from the drawer and stirred three scoops of sugar into my coffee.

  “I’ve also lost about ten pounds.” She beamed.

  “That’s terrific,” I said. I had noticed she was slimmer, and I made a mental note to cut back on the amount of sugar I added to my coffee.

  “I can’t believe all those fad diets I was on, and the trick was eating smarter.”

  I thought maybe the weight Gertie had lost was more from all her midnight activities with Brodie rather than the smarter eating choices.

  “Do you want part of my omelet?” She gently maneuvered it from the pan to a plate.

  “No, I’m late.” I took my North Face jacket from the hook next to the door and waved to her as she sat down to enjoy her breakfast. “See you tonight.”

  I was so happy Gertie and Brodie were dating. It was fun to see them together. I had been a little skeptical, because he was a defender and with that came the misery of worrying about him when he traveled. I guess it was no different than dating a police officer. At least she only had to worry about him during the full moon.

  I motored d
own the highway in my white Mustang, singing along with Adele. Her songs hit home, and I could relate to the pain in her voice. Men. I don’t know why they cause so much heartache. I hoped Caiyan would be happy for me if I got my key back. I arrived at work five minutes late—pretty good for me. I parked and entered through the back door, as I normally do. There was a ruckus going on in the front office. I heard Mary say, “Dr. Cloud is never late. I’m going to call the police.”

  I speed walked to join them. “What do you mean by ‘late’?” I asked.

  Mary and the two other office girls, Elvira and Paulina, stopped talking and rushed toward me.

  “Dr. Cloud is late,” they chimed in unison.

  “Thank God you are here, Jennifer,” Paulina said, hugging me. I rolled my eyes at the excessive drama.

  My brother is no saint, so I wasn’t worried that he was late. “Maybe he overslept,” I said.

  “He has never been late,” Mary said.

  “Did anyone go upstairs to see if he’s at home?” I asked. My brother lived above the chiropractic office, so he wasn’t exactly stuck in traffic.

  They looked at me like I was asking the inconceivable.

  “We didn’t want to disturb him if he was…you know, occupied,” Elvira said, running her index finger through the circle made by her opposite fingers.

  Ewww. Eli had been focused on his work, and I knew he wasn’t dating anyone at the moment.

  “Can you go check on him?” Mary asked.

  I sighed and walked out the front door. The stairs were on the side of the building and reminded me more of a classy fire escape. They rattled as I took them two at a time, and I was proud I wasn’t huffing when I reached the top. I knocked on the door. No answer.

  I dug in my handbag for the spare key Eli had given me in case of an emergency. In my mind, an emergency was running out of lunch money and needing a sandwich. I hoped this was that kind of emergency.

  I unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open. “Halloo?” I hollered as I entered his space. Eli’s apartment was characteristic of the old buildings that surrounded the square. The vaulted ceiling was open to the rafters with exposed ductwork. His love of sailing was evident throughout the apartment. Nautical prints of sailboats and the ocean hung on the walls. I had a straight view past the small dining nook, through the galley kitchen, and on to the bedroom that lined the front of the apartment and overlooked the cobblestone streets and antiquated square of the picturesque town. His bedroom door was closed.

  To the right was a small den that had a navy sectional sofa with navy-and white-striped throw pillows scattered about. An old trunk that looked like salvage from the Titanic sat in front of the sofa and held a white lantern, health magazines, and the TV remote. I caught the toe of my shoe on the jute rug that stuck out from under the sofa. The rug was new. My mom had definitely been here, adding her touch to Eli’s decorating.

  “Eli?” I called again as I moved past the round maple dining table toward the kitchen.

  He came barreling out of his bedroom and shut the door behind him quickly. “Hey, sis. I’m running a little late today.”

  I raised an eyebrow in the direction of the bedroom. “Yes, the girls were worried and sent me to check on you.”

  He sort of laugh hiccupped. He was hiding something. Reaching for his white medical jacket, he grabbed my arm and escorted me out of his apartment. He started toward the stairs.

  “Don’t you want to lock the door?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. He adjusted his glasses and turned to put his key in the lock. He secured the door, and we started down to the clinic. I was surprised the staff wasn’t waiting at the bottom like a group of cult worshippers.

  “OK, what’s going on?” I asked as we made the rest of the stairs.

  He smiled. “I met the most amazing woman last night.”

  “And you have her held captive in your bedroom,” I said, envisioning some poor girl strapped to the headboard with Eli’s neckties.

  “No,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “She’s in the shower.”

  Eli wasn’t a stranger to dating. He was tall and had an athletic build combined with our father’s good looks. I stood back and got a good glimpse of him. His jet-black hair, normally shellacked with a super-strength gel, was tousled. His eyes were bright blue but a little on the bloodshot side. He normally wore scrubs to the office, unless he had a meeting or a special event that required a shirt and tie. Today he must have had a meeting, because he wore a deep-purple dress shirt with the Ermenegildo silk tie I had given him for Christmas. This girl must be special for my brother to go full lab coat. I couldn’t wait to meet her.

  Eli and I entered the office through the back door. He was pulling on his lab coat when he was surrounded by the group of inquisitive women. The girls made a big fuss over Eli’s tardiness. He assured them he had overslept.

  “What?” he asked the curious faces.

  “Dr. Cloud, have you been doing some laundry?” Elvira asked as she started to move her left index finger toward the OK sign formed by her right hand.

  I shook my head no, and she halted midgesture.

  My brother’s face flushed slightly, and he did his best impersonation of looking confused. “Elvira, I haven’t done laundry all week. In fact, I have a huge pile of laundry if you aren’t busy on your lunch break.”

  Paulina giggled. “Dr. Cloud, I do my laundry every night.”

  “Every night?” Eli wiggled his eyebrows at her, and his glasses moved in sequence.

  The three other women looked at her, shaking their heads. “Paulina,” Mary said. “You are setting a bad example for the rest of us who only do laundry once a week.”

  Elvira nodded. “Yep, you do laundry every night, and the men expect it.”

  Paulina shrugged. “I like doing laundry. Sometimes I have to do it by myself, because my husband is watching football.”

  Eli held up his hands. “OK, ladies, you win this conversation. Yes, I met a nice girl, and I am taking her out to lunch today, so you can all get a good long look and get it out of your system.”

  The three of them looked at me as he retreated to his office for safety.

  “When was the last time you did any laundry, Jennifer?” Paulina asked, concerned I might not be doing my laundry in a timely fashion.

  I was saved by the first patient of the morning coming through the front door.

  “Oh, gosh, there’s Mr. McCreedy coming in for his treatment.” I grabbed the chart and went to greet him.

  I heard Elvira harrumph as I left the room. “I think that girl is doing laundry at more than one Laundromat.”

  Paulina added, “Do you think Mr. McCreedy can still do laundry?”

  I escorted Mr. McCreedy back to the therapy room. I noticed something highlighted on the top of his chart: today was his seventy-third birthday.

  “Happy birthday,” I said as I prepared the decompression table.

  “Thank you. I’m turning twenty-five today.” He smiled as I helped him lie faceup on the table.

  “That’s too bad. Twenty-five is too young for me,” I joked as I strapped the harness around his midsection, clipped the ring to it, and hooked him up to the machine.

  “Well, I guess it’s not too young for Doc Cloud. Saw him out last night with a real hottie.”

  “Yes, I heard he was dating a new girl,” I said as I adjusted the settings on the machine. It started the slow, even pull that would give Mr. McCreedy relief from his lower-back disc problem.

  “How is the weight today?” I asked.

  “It’s just fine. This machine has saved me from back surgery.” I nodded, knowing many of our patients had good results with the machine. “In fact, the missus likes it too. I’ve been able to cut down on my Viagra. Those pills are twenty dollars each.”

  Well, that answered Paulina’s question. I gave Mr. McCreedy the alert button to cut off the machine if he became uncomfortable. I charted what I had done and went to help the next
patient.

  The morning ran smoothly. Helga, the massage therapist, asked me if I wanted to grab lunch at the Italian place, and I agreed. A slice of pizza sounded great, and it would take my mind off the trip to headquarters and my key. When our acupuncturist had to leave the country on a family emergency, Helga had been her temporary replacement. Eli had an available room, and the patients had loved her. When the acupuncturist had returned, they had decided to share the space by alternating days.

  We finished with the last patient, and Helga was cleaning her room. I was getting my handbag to walk around the square to the pizza place when the bell on the front door pinged. I went to see if a patient had forgotten something and stopped dead in my tracks. In the center of the waiting room stood my archenemy, Mahlia Mafuso.

  Five foot ten inches of brigand occupied Eli’s office. I didn’t have a weapon except for my own fists, but I felt they would do a fine job. Her long brown hair hung like a perfectly ironed sheet down her back to her perfectly round butt. The dark skinny jeans and white button-down were accented with a Marc Jacobs fringed leather vest. She had on a pair of cute brown shorty boots that I had earmarked in Vogue just the week before. The bitch.

  Here she was in my coveted shorty boots, looking amazing and coming at me in my workplace. I’d show her a thing or two. My inner voice popped open a switchblade as I marched out to the waiting room. My brother came out of the front office, cutting me off on my way to kick booty. He entered the reception room ahead of me.

  “Jennifer, I’d like you to meet Mahlia.” He took her hand, and she batted her fake eyelashes at him.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, offering her other hand for me to shake and running her eyes over my smiley scrubs with a hint of laughter pulling at her Restylane-injected lips.

  Oh, shit! Mahlia was Eli’s special someone. My mind was racing. All the reasons why the bitch from hell would be dating Eli were being computed in my head like stats for the presidential election. I wanted to break every bone in her skinny body, but I felt myself pumping her hand up and down and saying, “Nice to meet you.”

 

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