by Lynn Galli
FINALLY
Lynn Galli
Penikila Press
FINALLY © 2010 by Lynn Galli. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored by any means without the express written consent of the publisher. For information address Penikila Press, LLC, 4917 Evergreen Way, Ste. 439, Everett, WA, 98203
www.penikilapress.com
Cover photo © 2010 iStockphoto.com
All rights reserved. Used with permission.
This is a work of fi ction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fi ctitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-935611-20-2
Printed in the United States of America.
ONE
I was kicking myself. On this rare sunny spring day, I should have been out riding a bike or in a kayak on the lake or something that would take advantage of the sunshine before it disappeared again until after July 4th. Instead I was standing outside the agreed upon restaurant waiting for my time-challenged sister for brunch. I’d starved myself for breakfast and made no plans for lunch so that we could enjoy a nice brunch together, and she was already twenty-fi ve minutes late. I’d eat the menu stand out front in a minute if she didn’t show.
Something light pressed down on my foot, distracting me from scarfi ng down the inedible particle board. A voice called out, “Sorry, really, sorry. Pepper, get back here!”
I looked down to see a black and white ball of fur sniffi ng around my shoe. Refl ex propelled me to a knee to pet the cute creature. Like other dogs, this black and white fl uff snuggled eagerly into my hands. “Hey there, Pepper. You’re a doll, aren’t you?” I rubbed the dog’s sides and looked up at Pepper’s owner.
“What a great dog. Welsh Corgi?”
The owner seemed delighted by my reaction. “Yeah, they both are.” She indicated the other gold and white dog that was slowly making his or her way over to sniff me.
“Com’ere, you, what’s your name?” I stretched my hand out to the other Corgi. Finally, a wet nose nudged my fi ngertips 1
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before a body swung around for a rub.
“Cashew. They’re sisters. A friend was unprepared for their birth and signed me up for two.” Pretty blue eyes twinkled down at the dogs as the owner dropped to a knee beside us. She was tall. Even on a knee, I noticed how tall she was. Long, golden brown hair hung freely around an oval, symmetrical face. Dark blue eyes carried a mischievous look and a smile showed a ridge of teeth as they grazed her bottom lip. Muscular arms peeked out from a cap sleeve shirt and shorts highlighted perfectly fi t legs.
Striking was the best descriptor. Familiar, too, but my job put me in front of so many people every day that I always discounted that.
“Looks like you didn’t object too much.”
The woman smiled at the tease. “They’re great company. You must have dogs?”
“I wish. No, I’ve got a schedule that keeps me out of the house too often. I couldn’t do that to a dog.”
Honey brown hair swayed as she nodded in agreement. It was the exact color that people with my darker brown shade often paid stylists big bucks to create. “When I travel, I leave them with the same friend who gave them to me. I can’t think what it would be like to board them or take them with me.”
“I know what you’re saying,” I agreed. “My mom has as much anxiety about boarding her dog as the dog does about being boarded. If ever a dog needed doggy psychology, hers would be the one. Thankfully, she doesn’t go out of town much or I’d be the one needing therapy after having to dog sit.”
Laughter bubbled up from the woman’s chest. Not quite a giggle, the sound could entice a smile from even the most cold hearted. My head turned back to study her again, lingering longer this time. That laugh made my heart beat, and that hadn’t happened in a long while.
“We don’t want to keep you.” She looked almost as reluctant 2
Finally
to leave as I was to let her go.
“Oh, you’re not.” I waved off her concern. “I’m waiting for my sister, but she’s late even by her less than rigid schedule. I’m starting to wonder if she’ll make it. Wouldn’t be the fi rst time.”
“A bit fl aky, is she?” This time, her cobalt eyes twinkled at me.
“Not so much a fl ake as time doesn’t seem to be as important to her as it is to everyone else on the planet. I used to get angry about it. Now, I wait for a half hour. If she doesn’t show, I fi gure she’s not coming.”
“Sounds like my brother. He thinks a phone call to say he’s going to be late excuses it.” She rolled her eyes, and I felt a current run through me. Too few people understood just how important promptness was. “Your sister must have a fl exible job?”
“Hardly. She works for a law fi rm. She says she’s never late there because she sets all the clocks in her house fi fteen minutes fast. Yet she knows they’re fi fteen minutes fast.” I shrugged, still not able to understand my sister’s logic any more now that I was explaining it to someone else. “What about you? What do you do?”
“I play basketball,” she said it simply, like that was a normal job that lots of people had.
Huh? Ahh, the University of Washington. “Oh, you mean for U-Dub? What year are you?” I could have sworn she looked older than that, but I’d been wrong about that kind of thing in the past.
A chuckle accompanied her reply. “Not for the U.”
Trying again, I asked, “Are you a coach then? What school?”
“No…I play.” She smiled unassumingly. “Professionally.”
Double huh? I tried to clarify, “Profess—like a semi-pro team or something?”
“No, I play for the Storm.” Her thumb jerked back over her shoulder, pointing at the saucer of the Space Needle that defi ned the Seattle cityscape.
3
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I shifted my blank stare to the Space Needle. It stood a few hundred yards from Key Arena where the basketball team played.
I’d been to many games, knew the players and their positions.
She had to be—ahh, she’s kidding. Laughing politely, I joked,
“Yeah, I do, too. I was with the Sparks before that. Don’t let my height fool you. I’ve got game.”
Her eyes swept over my fi ve-foot-three-inch frame. A delighted smile appeared as she relayed, “I bet you do.”
Any minute she’d start laughing to prove she was kidding.
When it didn’t happen, I studied her anew. All of a sudden the familiarity kicked in, compelling me to stand swiftly in surprise.
“You’re Quinn Lysander!” The Quinn Lysander. What the hell was I doing having a conversation with Quinn Lysander, captain of a professional sports team?
“That’s me. And you are?”
“Oh, sorry, Willa Lacey. It’s nice to meet you.” I took her hand in greeting, hoping I sounded like I met professional athletes every day.
“Nice meeting you, too.” Quinn kept our hands linked a little longer than mere politeness. “Have you been to many games?”
“Most of them. I’m a big fan. Clearly, a stupid fan who has trouble with her eyesight, but still, a big fan.”
She laughed that laugh again, and my heart went through an entire gymnastic routine. A frickin’ superstar, and I was just standing around Queen Anne Ave yakking away with her.
Without the doubled-up ponytail and uniform, she was a little hard to recognize, especially since she was seventeen rows closer than she’d ever been. “You’re funny, but don’t feel bad, I’m not usually recognized.”
She didn’t seem at all bothered by that fact.
“What is it that you do?”
“Pretty much the same thing as you. Except while you’re working, you entertain and inspire awe. I just try to make sure no one slips into a coma while I’m working.” Her laugh urged me to 4
Finally
continue. “Corporate leadership training, which is business speak for ‘keep our asses from being sued by teaching our managers how to manage.’ ”
“Impressive.” This was said with a raised brow, like she, a professional basketball player, was actually impressed by my mundane job.
“You know what they say. If you can’t do, teach or manage. If you can’t teach or manage, teach managers.” I got another wide smile and that glorious laugh again.
As if we’d known each other for years, she teased me, “I bet it’s enthralling.”
Lost in the comfort of our immediate camaraderie, I shook my head to stop myself from staring at this beautiful, athletic specimen any longer. “You probably want to get on with your walk.”
Quinn gave me a long look before suggesting, “You could join us? Unless you think your sister will actually make it?”
I didn’t hesitate before grabbing Pepper’s leash. It was that easy. A relaxed conversation and I had the chance to become acquainted with a woman that I’d been watching play basketball on television and in person since her junior year in college. Such a better way to take advantage of a sunny day.
5
TWO
Approaching the restaurant, I scanned the patio and spotted Quinn already seated, awaiting the start of our regular Thursday night dinner. Even after two months of dinners and other outings, catching sight of her still caused a blast of warmth in my system.
It was hard to believe we’d become friends, even harder to believe that she seemed to crave the friendship as much as I did.
As soon as I entered the patio, Quinn looked up and smiled as brightly as the sunshine highlighting the golden streaks in her hair. Standing, she clasped my hand and guided me to the opposite chair. “Hi, Willa. Good day?” The standard greeting revealed her sunny disposition.
“Very, thanks. How was yours? Did practice go all right?”
“Great practice today. We’re working on a new defensive zone, and the team’s just about got it down.”
Something over my shoulder must have caught her attention because she smiled and gave a shy wave toward the sidewalk. I didn’t bother to turn around, knowing the passersby would be high school girls, probably in Lysander jerseys, no doubt aware that this was her favorite restaurant.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” I tossed off casually, glancing down at the menu. Quinn handled her fans so admirably, always happy to say hello, sign autographs, and take photos. It didn’t happen all the time, but the idea of being interrupted by 6
Finally
strangers asking for something would be enough of an incentive for me to look for another job.
I felt a hand squeeze my arm in response to the compliment.
This is new, I thought, looking up from the menu to see the smile now focused on me. The soft hand lingered a moment longer until the waitress approached their table.
Quinn looked up at the waitress and ordered, “Tostada salad and a super jumbo veggie burrito combo with rice only, no beans, please.”
I cringed, salad and a super tasteless burrito, more like. “I’ll have a chicken enchilada, no rice or beans. Thanks.”
“How do you live on so little food?” She asked once the waitress had left.
“You did notice that I’m close to a foot shorter than you, didn’t you? I certainly have. The neck strain is becoming unbearable,” I exaggerated the eight-inch difference in our heights.
“I hope not.” The reply came at a near whisper.
I cocked my head to stare at her, trying to determine her intent. She was so hard to read, a shared trait, and no doubt one of the reasons we got along so well. I opened my mouth to probe further but stopped when I noticed two tall women approaching the table. As Quinn’s teammates, they were highly recognizable to any fan. They, however, didn’t notice all the heads turning because they’d locked in on my dining companion.
“Quinn!” the taller of the two exclaimed.
Quinn’s eyes grew wide at the sound of the voice. She didn’t turn around immediately, not until she’d changed her expression from complete shock to inviting familiarity. “Hey, Iris! What’s up, Dawn? What are you guys doing here?”
“I can’t believe we caught up with you tonight.” Iris, the starting small forward, grasped Quinn’s shoulder with the hand that rarely missed a shot. “Dawny should be a paid tracker.
I would have walked right by if she hadn’t spotted you.” She 7
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lifted the hand up to her teammate for a high fi ve as if they’d accomplished a set mission.
They turned their stare very noticeably to me. “Hi,” they both said at once.
I shook their extended hands, saying hello to both. Their eyes sparkled with that just-committed-a-crime-and-want-to-tell-someone-about-it look. “Would you like to join us?”
Quinn jolted forward. “I’m sure you guys are on your way somewhere?”
Iris spoke for both of them, “No, we’d love to join you.” Unoccupied chairs were yanked from nearby tables to accommodate our guests. We must have been quite the sight to see from the sidewalk. Quinn’s teammates were well over six feet tall, Quinn at fi ve-eleven and me at a staggering fi ve-three.
I expected the waitress to show up and offer me a booster seat at any moment.
“So, you’re the mysterious friend Q’s been hanging with?”
This from Dawn.
I laughed and looked at my friend. “They call you Q? Like you’re a rapper or something?”
The joke wasn’t received with the easy smile I was used to.
In fact, Quinn seemed nervous, but managed, “I have no say with the team.”
“You love us, chica.” Dawn looped an arm around her.
“What’s the story with you?” She shot her eyes back to me.
“Me? I’m secretly hoping that Q, here,” I tapped a hand against the solid shoulder next to me, “will get me a tryout on the team. I fi gure I’ll throw people off with my size. I just hope talent isn’t a necessary requirement.”
The twosome stared at me, not quite sure what to make of me.
Not everyone got my sarcastic sense of humor. “Oh-kaay,” Iris drew out, still making up her mind. “You’ve been hanging out a lot with our friend here.”
8
Finally
Continuing with the lighthearted tone, I replied, “That’s because I’m holding her loved ones hostage. I fi nd it’s an effective way to make people spend time with me.”
Snapping out of her quiet mood, Quinn laughed along with her teammates. “Listen, guys, I swear I just saw you both a couple hours ago. I’m dead tired, and I’m sure Willa has something better to do than be grilled by you.”
“Hey, no problem. We just wanted to meet her, that’s all.
You’ve been so secretive. We thought you might be having some torrid affair. You know us, we wanted to embarrass you if at all possible,” Dawn said.
“Very thoughtful,” I joked, catching what looked like a fl ush appear on my friend’s cheeks. “It was nice meeting you both.”
They stood, towering over me. “Same here. Too bad you weren’t scandalous. That woulda been really fun at practice.”
“Guess you’ll have to get used to disappointment.” I waited for them to retreat before I commented sarcastically, “They seem like a pain in the ass.”
Quinn laughed, a little more at ease once they’d left her line of sight. “They’re young. At practice it’s fun, but when we’re checking in at airports or hotels, I just want to disappear while they’re talking.”
“So, that’s it.” The earlier subdued mood made sense now.
“I’ve got frien
ds like that. You never know what’s going to come out of their mouths. It does keep you on your toes.”
Blue eyes studied me for a moment while the waitress appeared and served our food. “Yeah. Sorry if they embarrassed you.”
Tilting my head slightly, I looked directly at my tablemate.
“They didn’t, really. They seem like fun.” I hesitated a moment then asked a question I normally wouldn’t think was any of my business. “Is everything okay? You get along with your team, right? I just assumed you did. You always look like you’re having 9
Lynn Galli
fun at the shoot around with them before games.”
“Sure, they’re great, but I’m not like them. On nights like tonight, it becomes very evident. They’re probably on their way out dancing or something. I might go shoot some pool with them every once in a while, but they’re out every night. I don’t remember ever doing that. Clubbing all night then jumping on a plane fi rst thing to get to a game that night. It doesn’t make any sense. That’s what I mean about them being young.”
I could relate. As much traveling as I’d done with my coworkers, I never joined in their reindeer games after a long day with them.
Before I could agree, a voice called out from the sidewalk.
“Willa?”
Without needing to turn around, I knew it belonged to my last boyfriend. I winced, not wanting to see or speak to this guy and certainly not in front of Quinn, but he’d already crossed into the patio area.
“Chip,” I spoke his name in what I hoped was the civil tone he was used to hearing. He had the impression that ours was a let’s-be-friends breakup whereas I knew better, having grown sick of feeling nothing in another meaningless relationship.
“Will, it’s been ages.” He bent down to kiss my cheek, and I felt myself fl inch. “Yes. Well, this is my friend, Quinn Lysander.
Quinn, this is Chip Taglio.”
She stood to shake Chip’s hand. I took note of his height, about four inches taller than Quinn. How hadn’t that annoyed me while we were dating? His classic Italian good looks probably had something to do with it. Some people put a lot into the whole tall, dark, and handsome routine. For me, he’d been there and interested, so I’d gone for it.
