Next To Me

by Amabel Daniels

  If Mav and I were simply two buddies out on the town for the night, sure. But we were on the clock. Kind of. There was no way to get Felicia that ring right this instant. I could, however, find us a flight to Colorado. Reserve a car to take us to Richard’s intended fiancée. Nettie was right. Mav was a big guy who could handle himself. But I refused to let him stay in a holding cell overnight.

  Buzzing alerted me from my purse and I held up a finger to the trio of dressers smoking, vaping, and chatting in the alley with me. Sirens came from the distance and the not-so-distant cacophony of street noise set in the background. I took my phone out, seeing an Orlando number on the ID, and stepped aside.

  It wouldn’t be any quieter over by that dumpster, but it might be a little more private. “Just a sec, ladies.”

  I swiped to answer and got Richard’s demanding yet not yelling tone.

  “What’s going on, Carly? Dane’s on the phone dealing with someone from NYPD.”

  Dane. Richard’s close friend and personal lawyer. He’d gotten word? That fast? “Wow.” Must be nice to have legal aid on speed dial. Or freaky to need an attorney at your beck-and-call. From the sidelines as a personal assistant, I’d seen plenty of the elite, uber-rich circles Richard moved in. Never meant I’d truly comprehend all of it, though.

  Richard must have taken my reply as a show of gratitude. “Anything bad happens to you or him, I intend to know about it.”

  I blinked and raised my brows. “Gee… Thanks?” He cared about us beyond our paychecks?

  “You’re my two most trusted employees. I look after my investments.”

  And… Gee… Thanks. Always great to be reduced to a thing rather than a person. Funny. I thought I’d abandoned being a victim of that when I’d divorced my ex. Although…Richard had a point. Mav and I would probably be pretty hard to replace.

  “What’s going on?”

  I loosely and quickly explained that Felicia had already skipped town, we’d had an “issue” with the ring, and then we’d encountered trouble at a dance club.

  “Well, where the hell is she now?”

  “Going camping.”

  Richard scoffed. “Colorado, then.” He sighed before asking, “You have flights booked?”

  Jesus, he had a single-track mind. It wasn’t love that bound him to Felicia, more the need to land a wife before his brother got any say on some corporate decision with trust funds and such financial crap. Not my business.

  “Just about to do that. But I need to get Mav—”

  “Dane will handle it. Hang on.” A noise came through the line like he’d covered his mouthpiece. A moment later, he returned and said, “He’ll be fine. He must have drank something because he tested for alcohol.”

  “But he didn’t do anything!”

  “Sounds like you both had to have done something to end up where you are!” He cleared his throat. “Maybe he’s not drunk, but they got him for public disturbance while intoxicated. Dane said it doesn’t matter if he’s wasted or not. It doesn’t seem to matter on any fine details because they’re making him stay the night. Dane will deal with the fees and charges. So go get him in the morning, sign him out, and get on your way to Colorado. Got it?”

  I inhaled and exhaled as steadily as I could while ignoring the twitch in my eyelid.

  “Okay.”

  “You got it?” he asked again, not meanly but probably to drive in the purpose of me being here.

  “I said o-kay.”

  He hung up and I stared at my phone for a second. Maybe a minute or ten. It must have been too long past the culturally acceptable period of time for one to zone out at an inactive phone screen because Nettie called out to me.

  “Cupcake!” She waved both hands back and forth over her head, like an inflatable stick-figure balloon a business might use for street promo.

  “What in the hell is she vaping?” I whispered to myself. No one could have that much energy naturally.

  And, God, do I sound old.

  “Cupcake, don’t be a loner.” She wheeled one arm as though to pull me closer like a fish on her line.

  I stashed my phone in my purse and dragged myself over. I’d slipped those huge shoes back on when we’d gotten in the alley. Even if they weren’t three sizes too big, I’d need to shuffle my body anyway. Fatigue blanketed me in the wake of the adrenaline rush and fall.

  “Night’s young. We’re heading out for a nightcap.”

  I gave a half-smile. Despite the crappy ending of the night, it wasn’t so ugly out here. I had my purse. Mav would be free in the morning. And I’d made—it seemed—an instant friend in Nettie. Her upbeat enthusiasm was infectious. To a point. I was still too exhausted to go for a drink.

  “Have fun. I’m going back to my hotel. It was nice to meet you.”

  “Nonsense, cupca—”

  I held up a hand and refrained from snapping completely. “Does it have to be cupcake?”

  “You don’t like?”

  As of that morning, I abhorred the things. “No.” Shouldn’t matter, anyway, because I wasn’t going to see her again.

  “All right, well, then…come have a nightcap with us, sugar baby.”

  “We can’t let a girl walk the streets alone at night looking like you do,” one of the disco gals said.

  “Mmm-mmm,” the third murmured, shaking her head.

  “We’ll get you back to your room. Promise, cupca—”

  I pointed at her.

  She held her hands up, grinning. “Sugar baby.”

  I looked at all three and realized it didn’t have to be a bad idea. Sure, I was tired, but how much more would I tire myself if I went to the hotel? Alone. Worrying about Mav. Absentmindedly and not even consciously worrying about Violet in that way every mother does since the minute she becomes a parent. Fuming about Felicia and her wishy-washy travels.

  I could make the reservations and get us set up for tomorrow. Those were tasks that’d only take a minute or two.

  Mostly, I’d exhaust myself overthinking everything with no one but myself for company. Hating that I was by myself.

  It was a toss-up over what drove me to this light-bulb moment.

  Missing my daughter and facing a hint that someday I’d be by myself again, or getting too close to Mav to taste a teasing bite of how good it’d be to truly be with someone again.

  That was a debate better left to at least a few more sips of bourbon.

  “Just one drink,” I relented as I stepped toward them.

  Eight

  Mav

  Where is she?

  I sat on the rigid bench in the holding cell and wondered that crucial matter for the nth time since they’d shoved me in here with a collection of drunks and lesser criminals.

  We’d been going back to the room and had gotten way, way off course. But where had she gone after Lula’s Lounge?

  I wanted to assume she’d gone back to the hotel, safe and sound.

  Then why didn’t she answer my call?

  They’d only given me the one call. Instead of dialing Dane, I’d wanted to speak to Carly. The lack of her answer churned bile in my stomach.

  I grimaced.

  Or maybe that was from the puddle of vomit across the room. I was dismayed but unsurprised that the cops hadn’t bothered to have it cleaned yet.

  Where is she?

  Back home, I never wondered about Carly’s whereabouts. She was always there. Either in the apartment on the other side of my walls or in an office right next to mine. Even with her in close proximity all the time, I never truly pondered where else she might be.

  Not because I knew she didn’t date or because she wasn’t a needy kind of person who lived for never-ending excitement and wanting something more and better.

  I’d never sat up all night stressing about her because it’d never fallen on my shoulders.

  And it does now? Here?

  I frowned, watching a dude snore on the floor across from me, and considered the state of my anxiety.
>
  One kiss was all it took to make me stupid about her? I get one little taste of her and now she was embedded under my skin to contaminate all my thought processes?

  For eight months, I’d resisted her. I took her hint from the get-go. Carly equaled not interested. Fine. No meant no. I got it. I’d asked her out a week after she moved here and got a flat-out N-O. It would have stuck in my head a little better if she acted the part, though. For all these months we’d tolerated each other and gave each other as good as we got, she’d never failed to show how she might really have felt about me.

  If she really wasn’t into me at all then she wouldn’t hide the fact she stared at my ass when she thought I wasn’t looking. Yeah, reflections off of computer monitors are such a tattletale. She wouldn’t blatantly watch as I worked out in the apartment’s gym. And she couldn’t keep from teasing me about all these women I supposedly dated—as though she made sure to keep a—largely inaccurate—count for research.

  I had a strong hunch I wasn’t just an annoying blip on her radar. She noticed me. Maybe she fought not to, but she did. And she sure as fuck responded when I’d kissed her.

  That was it. Where this constant worry set in. That kiss. The first effort into seeing if there could be something more between us than coworkers and neighbors. Which was stupid. There always had been something more between us.

  Which brought us here, or, more specifically, me in this cell.

  God, where is she?

  She wasn’t clueless. I knew that. And I had faith she’d be diligently hanging on to that damn ring after our first scare of losing it. But this anxiousness…

  I exhaled hard.

  It could rip a guy apart.

  I cracked my knuckles and fought the instinct to bounce my knee.

  I simply had to get out of here. Being cooped up. Remembering the kiss she’d never give me again. Wrangling with the nerves of already having screwed up on protecting that ring and the need to do so until Felicia had it.

  “I swear to God…” I mumbled to myself when daylight yawned too slowly through the single window.

  That ring. Ever since that stupid ring, my life was out of whack. Once we were done with it and it was safely on that woman’s finger, Carly and I could go back to normal. At home. At work. Avoiding each other or bickering. I preferred it over these unknowns.

  What if she couldn’t get out of Lula’s Lounge?

  What if she ran into trouble on the way to the hotel?

  What if Tito hadn’t taken the purse…?

  I crossed my arms. What if we hadn’t been interrupted? If we’d made out against the wall near the hotel?

  I couldn’t go there. It was too…tempting of a dream. As soon as I’d stepped away from her, the standoffish, icy woman was back in place. Hell, I’d been pissy, too. Losing that ring wasn’t something to be proud of.

  But to try again? See what might happen?

  Nope.

  I didn’t want to put myself out there again. Not like that. If there was anything worth exploring, it was up to her to tell me.

  “Maverick Green?”

  I tilted my head up from resting my chin on my shoulder. The bored-looking cop strolled toward the cell, dancing keys side to side on a metal hoop.

  “Maverick Green,” he repeated, more of a long, whining inflection of come onnnn than a sharp call for identification.

  “Oh…” The drunk druggie teased from the floor where he’d fallen asleep. “Maverick. Where’s Goose—”

  I stood then and accidentally kicked him in the stomach. My bad. Horrible lighting in here. Not my fault I missed my step.

  “Fucking asshole.” He scrambled like a bag of filthy rags to stand and I easily evaded him as I went to the door. A simple step to the right and the dumbass fell to the ground.

  “Get back!” the cop ordered the idiot in the cell. “Come on, Green.”

  He opened the door and I walked out.

  “Lawyer paid your fee.”

  I’d figured as much. Carly must have called Orlando.

  The cop kept an irritatingly steady, slow-poke pace. “You got a girlfriend out front to collect you.”

  I nodded but wanted to scoff. Girlfriend? Don’t let her hear you say that word.

  I remained silent as he took me to get my wallet and phone that were confiscated and signed in when they’d booked me. As I slipped them in my pockets, I recalled making the one call permitted. And it’d been to her.

  Only she hadn’t answered. It couldn’t be because she was mad about that kiss. I hope. Carly wasn’t devious. Yet that reason to not answer was infinitely easier to accept than the possibility of her being physically unable to answer.

  I ground my teeth, beyond ready to just get the hell out here.

  “Not sure how a lucky dumbshit like you got a classy chick like her,” the cop said as he escorted me to the exit. He chuckled twice. “But here you go. Door to the left.”

  As soon as I pushed through the door, she ran up to me. Concern doubled the lines on her face as she took me in. She skidded to a stop before reaching me.

  What, did she expect me to be chilling in luxury or something all night?

  “What…” She licked her lips, frowning.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” I stuck my hands in my pockets to refrain from reaching her. Jesus, she was a breath of fresh air. Soap and lemons. I inhaled deeply as she closed the gap between us. She must have just gotten out of the shower.

  “Don’t—” I held my hands up to stop her from touching me. “Don’t hug me.”

  “Silly me, I thought you’d be happy to see me here.”

  I deadpanned and pointed as I inventoried. “Vomit.” Finger at my shoes and the cuff of my jeans.

  “Yours?”

  I shook my head. “Blood.” Finger at the denim over my knees and shins.

  Her brow furrowed more. “Yours?”

  Another shake no. “Shit.” I pointed at my jeans and shoes again. I paused when she didn’t ask if it was mine.

  She rolled her eyes. “I know you didn’t crap your pants.”

  “Urine,” I continued, pointing at the bottom hem of my t-shirt.

  She frowned, her brows nearly together.

  “Not mine!”

  “Well…it’s in the proximity…”

  “Last but not least, frosting.” I gestured to my shoulder and stomach where the chocolate had been smeared.

  Slanting her head, she narrowed her eyes. “From…a cupcake?”

  “Hell if I know. It was a drunk groomsman at a wedding. He’d photobombed the cake cutting, shit-faced, and fell into everything. Then fought everyone who helped him up.” I exhaled heavily. “But he was all about hugging strangers locked up in there.”

  Carly pursed her lips and still frowned. “And this?” She fisted my shirt, crinkling the caked-on icing, and pulled me lower. With her other hand, she held my chin between her thumb and finger and turned me to eye level, examining the bruise on my cheek.

  “Someone got a little rough in there.”

  One brow kicked up. “This too?” She rubbed a thumb close to the corner of my mouth where my top lip was slightly split. I licked at the wound. “Uh-huh.” Her careful stare and warm touch did too many conflicting things to me. Riled me up to kiss her breathless. Angered me that she hadn’t tried to get a hold of me in there.

  Or maybe she had. Hell, I wouldn’t know. I needed some basic TLC before I could even think much more.

  “For no reason?” she asked as I stepped back from her.

  “Oh, I’m sure he had a reason somewhere in his hallucinations. Tripping on something… He thought he was Thor and I had his hammer.”

  She busted out laughing, almost bending over. Her mirth rubbed off on me and I smiled for the first time in seven hours. “Sounds more like he mighta had a repressed crush on you.”

  I snorted and began walking toward the exit. Under my breath, I muttered, “I know a thing or two about those.”

  “Wh
at was that?” she asked, hurrying after me.

  “Nothing. So, Dane?”

  She nodded, and once we were on the sidewalk, she pulled her phone out of the larger tote bag she’d used as a carry-on. “I’ll get us a ride to the hotel.”

  I stayed her with my hand. “No. Let’s walk. Or is it far?” As exhausted as I was, I wanted free air. Cooler, real, even if polluted, air. The strong breeze was a godsend. Being trapped in that holding cell had me disoriented—or maybe that’s her—and I needed to move, to stretch out before confining myself to another flight in a cramped commercial seat.

  She lifted a shoulder. The movement made the wide collar of her knit shirt slip down, showing a sharp contrast from the brown of the fabric and the paleness of her skin. Nothing fancy about it, nor were her skinny jeans, but it instantly reminded me of the last time I’d lingered near her nape. Zipping up that slinky black dress in the room at Lula’s…

  “Mmm, not that far. Are you sure?”

  I broke eye contact. “Lead the way.”

  We fell into step and she brought me up to speed. Richard had called her for answers and was told Dane was taking care of matters. They couldn’t do anything to get me out last night, but hey. That was over. Now I was strolling down the street with a beautiful woman at my side. I’d take what I can. Look at me. One night in a holding cell and I was all Shawshank Redemption in philosophy.

  “Oh!” She rummaged in her bag. “I thought you’d be hungry.” Then she handed me a bag with a famous NYC fast food logo on it.

  Last night, they’d given us crappy snacks rats probably wouldn’t even eat, so I’d missed dinner and breakfast. What a sweetheart. “I. Love. You.”

  “Oh, wait ’til you take the first bite. Then you’ll really know what love is.”

  Grinning, I opened the bag. I knew she was on some weird quasi-diet and pronounced all carbs and sugars as evil, but this here was a woman who didn’t shy from loving food—if from a selective menu. Anyone who could let go enough to worship one of these cheeseburgers was a wise soul in my book. I ate the burger as we walked, pausing only once to remove the tomatoes and toss them in a garbage can.

  “We’ve got an hour before we need to be at JFK. Long enough for you to shower and then get going to Colorado.”