by Rissa Brahm
He kept his eyes on the road; a hesitant silence broke their flow. “Yeah, well, my sister and her girls are all the family I’ve got close by. The rest are spread out all over.”
“Oh, I just thought…you know, your wedding ring.”
“No, I’m…not, you know. I uh, decided to get this a few years back. Some clients, they have their bucket list item…with a chauffeur in a limo. It’s easier for me to keep my professional lines and not hurt anyone’s feelings…or lose a client.” He laughed.
She smirked at him. “How many women hit on you from this back seat, I wonder?” she asked, full-on flirting.
He smirked right back at her. “It’s not just women I’m proud to say,” he said with a quick lift of his brows. “But we’ll say…too many people to recount right now…because we’ve arrived.” He smiled as if relieved to not have to go into it.
She looked out her window and saw a three-story brick walk up lined with young trees and sweet lampposts dotting the sidewalk in front of it. The building, the whole neighborhood, was a part of another world. She felt far from the Newark strip club district, but it was only like a six-minute drive away. Crazy.
“Some other time then. Say tomorrow?” She smiled. “Man, I’m sure we could swap stories that would not shock either of us, like, at all.” She laughed.
“Yeah, if anyone could top my limo sagas, it would be you. Hell, between the club life and a metro ER, or rather a Manhattan ER! You might just beat my butt in a ‘Most-shocking’ competition,” he said, his eyes smiling in the rearview.
“We’ll see tomorrow, I guess. Okay, well, have a great night sleeping in your own bed.” She smiled and slid out of the back. But he was already out and around to open her door. She nodded her thanks.
“Jana, I should come up, make sure you get in and that everything’s working and you have everything you need…like Johnnie said.”
“I’m really fine.”
He narrowed an eye at her as if to say without words that he wasn’t giving in. And she wouldn’t fight it, she didn’t want him to get in any trouble with Johnnie.
“Okay, let’s go up then.”
*
He followed her up at a safe distance, carrying her small roller bag for her. The silence and his eyes potentially on her backside made her feel funny, self-conscious even. She was glad when they got to the second-floor landing.
At the apartment marked 2B, she searched for the key in her purse. She heard Tony breathing lightly behind her, but hardly audible over her damn panting. She hadn’t realized what the climb up the stairs had done to her. And she thought she was fit. Tony wasn’t winded or fazed in the slightest. Her hands were even jittery, and having finally found the key, now she couldn’t get the key into the stupid hole.
“Here, let me.” His hand brushed hers as he took the key, easily slid it in, and opened the door in an instant.
She looked up at him with a smile and took a step forward.
“Wait,” he said, blocking her with his arm in order to check the place out first. So serious, bordering on protective, like her own security detail or something. He left her in the doorway, flipped on the light, and surveyed the small, some six-hundred-square-foot studio. “Looks okay, no gas smell, or—”
“A real bed!” She dropped her purse there on the floor and ran, throwing herself with absolute abandon onto the plush, crisp, and clean-sheeted mattress, the one from her very dreams. After she’d landed face down, she flipped over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling the cloud-like give of the bed, the most comforting sensation her body had experienced in…well, way too long. Not even her apartment’s futon was this heavenly.
Tony cleared his throat.
Oh God. Her face got hot. She’d forgotten herself, or more, she’d forgotten her company. Rolling off the bed, she saw his gentle smirk.
“A few nights in a hospital armchair….” She grinned with a follow-up sigh as she moved toward the door to pick up her purse from the floor.
He grimaced with empathy. “I’ll check the water and thermostat for you and be on my way.”
“Thanks, Tony. Hey, would you drop the temperature to the lowest setting while you’re at it?” It was hot and stuffy, probably because, like Johnnie had said, he hadn’t been in there for forever. As soon as she heard the air conditioner respond, she sighed. This was heaven.
“So, tomorrow at three you said?” Tony asked, moving to the door. She could see the exhaustion on his face.
“Yes, please. Three o’clock.”
“I’d feel more comfortable if you had my number readily available, in case. I gave you my business card.”
“Yeah.” She hunted through her pit of a purse and immediately decided she was too tired to rummage for it. “Please, can you type it in here for me?” She handed him the phone Johnnie had given her, also too drained to figure out the buttons of a new phone and too worn out to want to try.
He smiled as he took it from her; a small laugh escaped him as he typed, maybe because his fingers were too big for the small buttons on the antiquated flip phone? “Poor old thing,” he said of the device as he handed it back. “Funny how folks with money keep old crap, even though they can afford ten of the newest of the new.” He snickered.
“Yeah, people are strange, for sure. I can’t believe that only ten years ago this thing was the best. Now it’s as good as a kid’s toy.” She’d actually given all of her old devices to Luly’s kids to play with. They’d play ER with them, spouting out medical terms Jana had taught them. ‘Code blue,’ ‘stat,’ and, oh they just loved ‘BM!’ God, they cracked her up. She couldn’t wait for her life to even out to have her own little one to hand stuff down to. And teach, and hold, and love. All just sweet dreams for now.
“So, I’m gonna, you know, go.”
“Okay, yes. Thanks,” she said moving behind him toward the door.
“No problem. And you’re sure three o’clock? Won’t you be hungry before then? I could bring you food or take you to the store earlier? Or a restaurant?”
“No, no. You need a break too. I’ll find something. The neighborhood seems nice. There’s probably a restaurant close by I can walk to, right?”
“Actually, yeah, there’s a deli near the library, only three blocks down and two streets over.”
“Perfect. And so, we’ll swap stories tomorrow afternoon then.”
“Right, tomorrow at three,” he said, standing there for a beat, almost lingering, maybe with a hint of concern on his face? Seemingly unsure if she’d be all right there alone, like a guardian, a protector.
She smiled at him, nodding that she really was just fine.
He turned to leave. “Goodnight,” he said as he closed the apartment door quietly behind him.
But his calm, overseeing presence hung there in the small studio apartment, and she felt lighter for it.
“Jana?” His deep voice startled her through the door.
“Yeah?”
“Lock the door.”
“Right, thanks.” She smiled as she turned the deadbolt. “Night.”
She could hear his footsteps fading out as he moved down the hall.
He really was like a bodyguard. She hadn’t known a man like him before, and she’d known a lot of men. Remember, Jana, he’s being paid to do a job. Fine then, it was rare to find someone who took his job so seriously.
And talk about different. His make-believe wedding band struck her as curious and somewhat intriguing. What man—and a pretty damn attractive man at that—would try to turn away action for himself in his own limo? It was unheard of with the men she’d ever known. In her experience, men were wholly incapable of using their common sense before their cocks. But this man, Tony, actually wore a mock wedding ring to stave off sex? For professionalism’s sake?
He had to be lying.
And if he wasn’t lying, then what planet did this guy come from? Maybe he was gay. But no, he’d insinuated he’d turned down both women and men.
/> Too curious. God, there were just too many unexpected characters in her life right now, between her new boss and her chauffeur. God, her chauffeur?
She just needed sleep.
She looked down at the club cell phone in her hand, then slid it onto the kitchen counter. The phone skidded along like a pebble across a placid pond as she ran at the bed and dove onto it again.
She fell asleep in an instant. Makeup on. Clothes on. Lights on.
But her worries were finally shut off. At least for the night.
*
She woke up with a gasp…from a dream. She and a faceless man were driving down a winding scenic highway. It was sunny. She had her sunglasses on. And the companion had a cap on, yeah, a police officer’s cap. The strangest thing was that her hands were on the steering wheel. She was driving––she hadn’t been in the driver’s seat of a vehicle in her entire life. And even though, ironically, the cop in the passenger’s seat should’ve been stopping her from driving without a license, he was holding her hand, making her feel safe, secure. A sweet, gentle, comforting hand. A guiding and protective hand.
And, the dream still so fresh, she remembered the feeling of the wind rushing through the open windows. It had taken her breath away. And her favorite girl-angst rock band, A.D., was on loud enough to compete with the torrent of fresh mountain air. Yes, mountains were the foreground and backdrop. Serene, royal green and purple-ridged mountains. And while driving through those mountains, she was in control. God, no motion sickness, even. Simply heart-pounding happiness. She was free.
Then she’d woken up. There hadn’t been a cliff or a dead-end. Just her and her sweet and safe mystery cop driving far and free. The exhilaration lingered in her for a moment. Then it was gone. Because here she was, in her real life. No scenic mountain road. No, no. Just Newark-fucking-New Jersey.
She sighed and swallowed back a knot of disappointment. She got up, found a glass, downed two rounds of tap water, and then stripped off her pants, her shirt, and her bra under that. She scrounged for the light switch in the room, found it in the kitchen and flipped it off. Found the bed, crawled under the sheets, and fell back to sleep easily.
No more dreams. At least, none that she could remember when she woke up late the next morning.
CHAPTER 22
Tony slept like hell. Not the quiet, calm he was used to, especially being in his own bed as opposed to the all-too-familiar driver seat of his limo. But no matter where he slept, he always reached equilibrium. Just not last night. And carrying over to today, he couldn’t pinpoint the unsettling feeling that nagged at him ever since leaving Jana at the studio apartment the night before. Not to over think it, he put it to sheer exhaustion and age creeping up on him.
He went to check his cell in case Jana had changed her mind about getting groceries, or for any dispatch alerts. But no missed calls. It occurred to him then that the restlessness he felt might have started when dispatch relayed the request from Jocelyn Carlson the night before, just after leaving Jana. That crazy woman wouldn’t quit.
But, no, that wasn’t it. Jocelyn Carlson’s incessant car requests to dispatch annoyed him, but it also gave him a slight jolt of pleasure in denying her. He knew that maddened her endlessly and he liked it.
What the hell was it then…his unease? Cracking his knuckles, he bit his bottom lip in thought, replaying the night in his mind.
The ring. When Jana had noticed the ring, it had reminded him. Yes. It made him remember the four missed calls and two voicemails over the past few days from Michelle. Her voice oozed guilty-warmth, sweetly harping on and on about him needing to return the final papers. She couldn’t wait to replace ‘Ruiz’ with ‘Simon.’
Yes, that was definitely the nagging in his brain and in his gut.
He laughed out loud at the similarity between Jocelyn and Michelle. God, they both even wore the same poisonous perfume––each and every time Jocelyn had gotten into his limo, that damn Giannia’s Destino burned his nostrils as it traveled up to his head where horrible memories of Michelle and Simon together would immediately surface, followed by a pounding headache for the rest of the damn night.
Damn you, Michelle. She had turned out to be two people in one. How had he been so blind? It haunted him. If he had just kept on course and not gotten distracted in the first place. But he’d been so sure Michelle was the one. They’d met at work, had the same balls-to-the-wall work ethic and lofty goals, and, he’d thought, a lofty love.
When he’d bumped into her leaving Simon’s office, her forehead vein throbbing like it did only after she and Antonio made love.
At least, she didn’t insult him by denying it.
But shit, she didn’t even try to deny it! Beg for forgiveness! Nothing!
What a fucking cliché he’d become. And he couldn’t just get over her, which was why he’d subconsciously let the “separation” drag out for so long.
But now, apparently, Michelle was officially ready to be done. Divorce. God, he could hear his mother rolling over in her grave. But it wasn’t really religion or tradition that stopped him from signing those papers Michelle had broadsided him with. By Antonio not finalizing the divorce, he was making her wait, holding back what she wanted so badly. Pathetic, he knew. He was supposed to be so above such shit. It embarrassed him to admit it to himself.
So he pushed the topic way back, and just jostled his car keys in his hand, then began tossing them up and catching them coming down. Again and again. God, he didn’t want to be home. He wanted to be out. Away. With Jana.
Whoa. What?
Yes, he wanted to be with Jana, listening to her, talking with her, glancing up at her in his rearview. Jana.
The memory of Jana diving onto that bed last night made him stir. Then wince…the bed of Johnnie Demonte.
It was a similar feeling he’d had with Michelle at the start. Innocent attraction, ever-growing intrigue, but with Jana, his contracted passenger and Johnnie Demonte’s ‘consultant,’ it was different.
She’d been a stripper, and he had no respect for strippers. But had she been a stripper? She had danced, albeit naked, but she’d never become a stripper. That was obvious. And she’d done it for her family. Her situation may have been even more desperate than his had been growing up. Then she put herself through school and became a nurse. God, and now, when her family needed her again, she’d dropped everything? And she even found a slightly more reputable way to help her folks. She was something else entirely.
But he worried. He knew Johnnie and what he must really be trying to get out of her.
Damn it! That was it. Johnnie Demonte. Jana at his apartment. In his bed. Jana surrendering to his bed with such abandon. Then imagining Johnnie climbing into his bed after her, over her. Antonio’s hands formed white-knuckled fists.
That was definitely it.
Because Michelle was just a lingering scab that he constantly picked at. Michelle wasn’t the cause of this discomfort that had morphed into what was now a deep ache.
No, it was Jana, definitely Jana.
He stood up then. Go for a run. Then to Tae Kwon Do. Shower. And three o’clock will come.
CHAPTER 23
She felt like she was walking through a movie studio, like she could saunter up to the flower-potted front porches and check behind the houses to see 2x4s holding up the facades.
Three blocks down she made the right. Not a soul in sight. Her stomach prayed that the deli Tony had mentioned would be open on a Sunday morning. It was eleven o’clock already, so chances were good. Then, if the place had Wi-Fi, oh man, she’d be set. For as little time as Johnnie spent in the studio, she wasn’t entirely surprised it had no Internet or even a TV. The Demontes could for sure afford it, though. But like Tony had said last night, random things were a sticking point with wealthy people. After all, they didn’t get or stay rich by tossing their cash out the window, did they?
But either way, at least, she was out in the fresh air and walking. She didn’t know how muc
h she’d needed that until her feet were on the pavement. Fresh air, movement, alone-time, oh, and that morning’s shower had been all sorely needed.
The deli’s neon sign came into view just as her club cell phone rang. She flipped it open, knowing it would be either Johnnie or Tony. She hoped it was Tony so that it’d be quick because the beginning of a low blood sugar headache was coming on.
It was Johnnie.
“Morning!”
“Hey, it’s Johnnie.”
“I know that…no one else has this number, right?” she said with a laugh in her tone. Except for Tony, but Johnnie’s driver didn’t count. “How are you?”
“Just got to Merrick and was thinking about you. Wanted to make sure the apartment had everything you needed.”
Except for Wi-Fi. “Yes, thank you. Everything is so great. I haven’t had a night’s sleep like that in as long as I can remember. My place in the City is smaller, and the bed is harder, neither of which matter much ’cause I was hardly ever there with my ER hours,” she said as her heart sank at the thought. God, Sunday mornings in her ER, buzzing and alive after the City’s usual Saturday night party-scene slaughter. She just needed to get inside the deli to scope out a free Wi-Fi sign and check her email. That was more necessary than feeding herself.
But she couldn’t rush Johnnie.
“Good, I’m so glad. Well listen, I wanted to get your dress size. I was so impulsive in asking you to join me for the show next Wednesday, I forgot that you’d probably not packed a gown in your rush over to Jersey for your dad! I mean, right?”
Oh God, he was right. What the hell would she wear? She didn’t own anything appropriate for an off-Broadway matinee let alone an evening show at Lincoln Center. Nor did she have the money to buy a dress that even came close to par. Shit, she should have declined in the first place. She shouldn’t be going out with her boss, the one who obviously has a thing for her. Hell, to be honest, she might have a tiny thing for him too.
