Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Fine.” Her hand closed over the knob, but she couldn’t leave without one more parting shot. “You know, Marcus, just because you spend all your time working away from most people doesn’t give you a free pass to act like an asshole when you’re actually around others.” I didn’t look up or even acknowledge her as she left. She was Pax’s favorite, everybody knew that, and the feeling was mutual. I hoped I didn’t burn an important bridge by pissing her off. No, she could be professional. She wouldn’t go running to him.

  When I was alone, I leaned back in the chair and raised my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose. I was starting to get a headache. Why couldn’t my one on-site job be easy, or at least normal? Why did I have to get caught up in stupid bullshit?

  I couldn’t help looking at Lauren’s desk when I slid the glasses back over my eyes. She wasn’t there. I looked around at the other monitors until I saw her. She was going from teller to teller with a basket on one hip, handing them something. Whatever it was, they looked happy to get it.

  Candy. It was little bags of candy. What’s your favorite candy? She wanted to give me some, too.

  “Oh, fucking hell,” I muttered. I could’ve kicked myself for being such a dick. She only wanted to do something nice, the way she was always doing something nice for everybody she worked with. Every teller got a bag, plus the security guard, Peter and the rest of the desk jockeys. Even Christa, who put a hand to her heart when she thanked her.

  Then she looked straight at the camera with a smirk. “Cute,” I whispered. I then watched as Lauren pulled out one more bag. She looked around, shrugged, and left it on the floor in front of the door to my room. I couldn’t help but smile.

  ***

  I waited until Christa was having lunch in the kitchen before opening the door. The little candy bag was still there, with a note tied to it. I didn’t know what kind to give you, so here’s some of each. Caramels, truffles, peanut butter cups, mini chocolate bars and a few candy hearts that said things like Be Mine and Hot Stuff.

  She had her back to me, working at her desk. I decided to take a chance. I walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned and saw it was me, a smile spread across her face.

  “Hey,” she said. “You got it.”

  “Yeah, I got it. And I’m sorry. I was mean earlier.”

  “It’s okay. You have a lot of work to do. I get it.” She shrugged like it was nothing.

  “Do you always do this?” I held up the bag.

  “Every year. I make cookies for Christmas, too, and I fill plastic eggs with candy at Easter. Oh, and Halloween, too.” She laughed. “I did it my first year, you know? And everybody expected it after that, so…”

  She was too good to be true. “It’s really nice. You give people something nice during the day. I bet they look forward to it more than they know. Not everybody gets to work somewhere with a nice person like you.”

  She blushed. “Thanks. Anyway, enjoy.” She shrugged, then turned back to her work. I noticed a sandwich sitting on her desk.

  “Did you take lunch yet?”

  She looked up at me. “No. I was just going to, except…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Christa’s already eating, and I hate eating alone in the kitchen. I was just gonna eat out here.”

  “You could come eat with me. I always eat alone.” I said it before I thought about it. What was I thinking? I didn’t want her in there with me. It probably wasn’t even allowed. And Ricardo wasn’t totally convinced she wasn’t in on the robbery, either. What would he think if he knew she was in there, watching footage or something?

  It was too late, though. The words were out there, and she nodded eagerly at my invite. Great. I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I hoped Christa would keep her opinions to herself.

  “So this is what you do, huh?” She sat down in the spare chair and looked at the monitors. “It’s weird. I sort of feel like God, looking over everybody in the bank.”

  I turned my head a little so she wouldn’t see my smile. “Yeah. It’s interesting. Give people enough time and they forget somebody’s watching them.”

  “I guess that’s kind of the point, though, huh?” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and grinned. “You want them to act like they would if nobody was watching them.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So.” She unwrapped her turkey sandwich. “Who’s into doing weird stuff?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I can’t. That would be unprofessional.”

  “Oh, come on. Not like I don’t see people from where I sit, but I would like to know what you’ve picked up on and see if I’ve picked up on it, too.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. But don’t be telling people we were talking about this, okay? And by people, I mean Christa.”

  “My lips are sealed.” She zipped her mouth shut.

  I looked over the bank through the screens. “See, here’s Monica at her window. See what she’s doing?”

  She leaned in close. “It looks like she’s…picking her teeth with her nail?” Her eyes were wide as she grimaced.

  “Yup. Does it all day long. I don’t know why.”

  “Eww! She’s touching money! People are getting her germs…”

  “…and she’s putting like a million germs into her mouth. I know. I know.”

  She shuddered. “Oh, that is disgusting. She can’t even know she’s doing it. One of those unconscious things, you know?”

  “Like the way Felicia pulls on her earlobe when she’s thinking about something?”

  “What?” She looked over at the monitor her friend was on, and there she was, tugging her earlobe as she processed a cashier’s check.

  “Every time. Seriously. Watch her sometime and see.” I looked at my watch. “It’s twelve-forty-five. You know what that means?”

  “No. What?” I pointed to the screen and we watched as George left his office and walked to the men’s room.

  “Every single day at exactly twelve-forty-five,” I said. “Without fail.”

  “Shut. Up.” She laughed so hard, she almost choked on her sandwich. “I shudder to think what you’ve found out about me.” She looked down at the table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  What had I found out? That she was exactly the kind of person her boss told us she was.

  “Nah. You’re okay.” Perfect, actually. She was perfect. I held my tongue.

  She let out a soft snort. “You know what I just realized?”

  “What?”

  She looked shy when she smiled at me. “You’re pretty much my Valentine’s Day date. I mean, I don’t have anything happening any other time today. I think Christa and I will order pizza. That’s about it.” When she saw the expression on my face, her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was such a stupid thing to say. You must hate me, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “Relax. You just took me by surprise.” I opened my bag of candy and took out a chocolate kiss. “Here. Your gift.”

  “Sort of a re-gift, though, right?” She looked sly as she took it from me.

  “It’s last-minute.” I shrugged. “Sue me.”

  As she left I caught sight of Christa through the open door—or, rather, she caught sight of Lauren walking out. Her eyebrows arched until they were nearly off her forehead. I shrugged. She couldn’t blame me for trying to make things better.

  Chapter Ten – Lauren

  I couldn’t stop wondering him for days after that. He couldn’t be as “all business, all the time” as he came off. Nobody could. There was more to him than that. The little smile he wore when he handed me that piece of chocolate told me so.

  “What’s his deal?” Christa and I were making dinner together two days after my little lunch date. I still felt like a smacked ass for telling him it was a date. I had to learn when to keep my thoughts to myself.

  “Whose deal?”

  Crap. She didn’t know I was thinking about him. My question had come out of the clear blu
e sky. “Marcus. One minute he’s so awkward it hurts, and the next minute he’s nice.”

  “Oh.” She smiled a little too knowingly.

  “I was just wondering, is all.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “You don’t have to sound like you’re about to sing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g song, then.”

  “I don’t sound that way.”

  “You do. I was only asking because it seems like he has a split personality. I never know if I’m talking to Nice Marcus or Socially Awkward Marcus.”

  “He’s very awkward,” she agreed. “He’s the sort of person who works well on his own. It’s different, being around people as much as he is right now. I think it’s a bad habit more than anything, that awkwardness. He’s out of practice.”

  “That makes sense.”

  She looked over at me from where she was putting together a salad. “It’s nothing personal when he acts weird and distant. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “I never said it did.” I busied myself draining pasta at the sink and hoped the billowing steam covered up for the color in my cheeks. “I guess I’m too much of a people pleaser. I want everybody to like me.”

  “He likes you. Who wouldn’t like you?” We sat down to eat. I was careful not to meet her eyes.

  “I think it’s a problem in me that I have to work on. Needing that approval.” I wanted so much to change the subject. I should never have asked.

  “Nobody likes the idea of people not liking them. Personally, I can’t stand when I hear people saying things like, I don’t care what anybody thinks about me, that’s their problem.”

  “Really? You seem like one of those people to me.”

  She frowned. “I do? Who do I look like to you?”

  “Oh, jeez. I didn’t mean to start a deep discussion.”

  “I’m only curious. What do you see when you look at me?” She sat back in her chair. I tried to be critical as I looked her over.

  “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You’re very strong—there’s a lot of strength in you.”

  “I can live with that,” she smiled.

  “I don’t know. You just have this attitude about you like you can handle anything. Nothing’s too big a challenge.” I took a forkful of pasta. “Is that right?”

  Her smile faded a shade. “Everybody has their challenges.”

  Time to change the subject again. “How long have you worked at the agency?”

  “Hmm?” She had drifted off into her own world. “Oh. Gosh. Eight years, I guess.”

  “Wow. And you were in the Army before then?”

  She nodded. “We’re all ex-military. Pax started the agency as a way for us to use the skills we learned. Sometimes, people like us feel like there’s no place in the world when we get home. We have to go back to normal life and it’s like, how do you do that?”

  “Why didn’t you stay in? Make it your career?”

  “That’s another thing. Most of us…we left for one reason or another. Usually because of injury. Honorable discharge.”

  “Oh.” What else could I say? I wasn’t about to ask her why she’d been discharged. I wasn’t an idiot. I did wonder, just like I wondered about Marcus. What happened to him? Did he have scars he kept covered? I thought about the long-sleeved shirts he wore. They were snug enough to show off his body but there could be anything under there. Instead of feeling a little grossed out at the thought of gnarly scars, my heart softened. Poor thing, I thought. Maybe it was easier for him to keep to himself.

  ***

  Saturdays were short days, and only half the staff had to report. I didn’t even technically have to be in, but George didn’t work Saturdays and appreciated having me there. I didn’t mind since I got to leave at one o’clock. The day hardly began before then, anyway.

  There was another reason I didn’t mind going in on that particular day: not as many staff hanging around to watch as I tried to get a little closer to Marcus. Why was I dead set on him? I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t an obvious flirt, like Peter or some of the customers I dealt with. He didn’t give me much encouragement. Still, I couldn’t get him out of my head, and the first thing I did after dropping my things off at my desk was go to the kitchen to see if he was making coffee. He was.

  I took in his tight t-shirt, the jeans that fit so snugly around his tight butt. His short, curly dark brown hair practically begged my fingers to run through it. I wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt, then clasped my hands together to keep me from reaching for him.

  “Hey. How was your night?” I put my lunch in the fridge.

  “Boring. The usual.” He glanced my way. “How about you? Any pillow fights with you and Christa?”

  “No. Last night we did each other’s nails and practiced French kissing,” I smirked.

  “Hmm. I might need photographic proof next time you do that. Just to judge your technique, you know.” I wondered if he knew how sexy he was when he grinned the way he did just then.

  I giggled. “We watched a movie and fell asleep early. Pretty much the same as every other night.”

  “Glad to know I’m not the only one with nothing to do on a Friday night.”

  I tilted my head to the side and studied him. “You don’t sound unhappy about that.”

  “I’m not. I did the whole party thing when I was a teenager. I’m over it now.” He shrugged. “I’m an old man.”

  “Not all that old.” I looked him up and down. “You look fit enough.”

  He tipped his head downward to hide a smile and I thought A-ha, I finally got him. He was human, after all. Not a robot, the way he tried to make himself out to be.

  “Would you mind company at lunchtime today?” I asked. “Christa has things to do at headquarters, she says.”

  “You take lunch here on Saturdays?” he asked. “Even though you close at one?”

  “I’m a creature of habit. I eat pretty much the same thing at pretty much the same time, every day.”

  “Huh. I thought I was the only one who did that.” He headed out of the kitchen. “See you at noon,” he called over his shoulder. I bit down on my bottom lip to hold back a nervous giggle and turned to face the coffee maker in case anybody walked in and saw me beaming like an idiot.

  “What do you think’s gonna happen when the cops are satisfied and there’s no reason for the extra security anymore?” Peter sounded just as snide as ever. I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to five before answering.

  “I think things will go back to normal,” I said. “What do you want me to say?”

  “It’s just sort of obvious, the way you’re flirting with him. That’s all.” He leaned against the counter, to my right. I kept my eyes on my coffee.

  “It’s none of your business what I do. I don’t like you listening in on my conversations, either.” I hated how much it freaked me out to tell him to mind his business. I was in the right, too. He was being a jerk. That didn’t stop my heart from racing or my knees from shaking. I had to stop being such a doormat.

  “Oh, come on. Anybody could see how you have a crush on him.”

  That did it. I slapped my palms on the counter as my head snapped around. “So what? Why does it bother you so much? Because I never fell for any of your lines?”

  “My lines?” His eyes went wide.

  “Oh, please. Don’t play innocent. You’ve been trying to get me to go out with you for years, and I’m not interested. I’ve been trying to be nice to you all this time, but apparently, there’s no point in being nice to you. You just don’t get it. Leave my personal life alone. Okay?”

  One of his eyebrows shot up. “Fine. Have fun getting your heart broken.”

  “Have fun hitting on all the other women in the bank and getting nowhere with them, too.” As I brushed past him to go back to my desk, I made a mental note to ask if we could be seated further apart. There was no reason for him to be where he was. It was as good a way for me to start sticking up for myself as any.

  Late
r on, as I sat with Marcus and my sandwich, he cleared his throat. “What was going on with you and Peter earlier?”

  I should’ve known he’d be watching. I’d spent the morning trying to forget about it and had done a pretty good job, but the discomfort came back in a rush. “What do you mean?” I became very interested in the piece of lettuce hanging out from between the slices of rye bread.

  “You looked pissed. I didn’t have the sound up, so I couldn’t hear any of it.” Was that true? Was he only trying to give me a way to save face?

  I chose my words carefully. “He’s a creep. He’s been trying to get me to go out with him for years. Not every day, but more than enough.”

  “Oh, really?” His voice was tight enough to make me look at him, and he was looking out at Peter’s desk with narrowed eyes. The eyes of a man who wanted to commit a crime. “But that didn’t look like he was asking you out. You were really pissed.”

  “I know. He just needs to mind his own business, is all.” I needed him to drop it. Good thing the room was relatively dark, or else my flushed cheeks would give me away.

  “Listen. If he ever bothers you like that again, you let me know. Okay?”

  I grimaced. I loved the idea of him beating Peter to a pulp, but it wasn’t that easy. “That’s sweet, but you were sort of what he was on my case over.”

  The funniest thing happened. His face changed. It was like water washing over him and changing his expression. One second he was grim, the next he looked strangely satisfied. “Me? Interesting.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged and almost wished I hadn’t mentioned it. It was either that or let him think Peter was harassing me, and maybe risking him saying something to Peter about it and having Peter throw my crush on him in his face. What a mess, either way.

  “So he thinks I’m a threat, huh?”

  “You’re not a threat,” I said, maybe a little too abruptly.

  “Oh. Well. Okay.”

  “No, no. I didn’t mean that.” I held my head in my hands, sandwich forgotten. “I meant, there’s nothing to threaten. There’s nothing between him and me. Never has been.”

  “Ahh.” He smiled a little too knowingly as something hung in the air between us, unspoken. I let it hang there.