by Marika Ray
And that was their first mistake.
I require supervision.
I know this about myself and I'm careful who I let know this vital piece of information. Sometimes I didn't want anyone looking over my shoulder so I could carry out my dastardly deeds.
I'm just kidding, I didn't do anything horrible. I just sometimes bent the rules a bit in order to help people out. Like a gorgeous, African American, female Robin Hood. The tights looked better on me anyway.
Remember that homeless shelter I'd volunteered at years ago with the Grants? It was now overrun with more homeless people than they could ever help. Southern California faced a huge homeless epidemic that didn't have any easy solutions.
I'd gone through all the legal routes to help them out. I organized clothing drives, stood outside at Christmas time and begged for used coats. I did canned good drives; I donated my time to the shelter; I used my own money to buy blankets.
I frequently bought two dinners and gave one to a particular homeless man that lived right on the beach strand. He'd been there for years and he never disturbed anyone. He had wild snow white hair and a big potbelly. He didn't talk much, but he never turned down my containers of food.
It was on a mundane Tuesday night after I'd gone to the beach to offer up one of my meals to this man, when I entered into round two of the Flirting War. I'd dropped off the bag of Pad Thai and an extra blanket I'd gotten off the clearance rack at work. It was late, the beach was quiet, and I always remained hyper vigilant as a young woman out by herself at night.
I was just coming around the corner of the public restrooms when a hand shot out and grabbed me, attempting to pull me back to the wall of the building.
This is the part where I need to tell you about the Jiu Jitsu lessons Esa had been dragging me to for several weeks now. Actually, she only had to drag me the first time. After that, I was hooked. I loved having a legit reason to kick the shit out of people. Esa wanted to protect herself from her stalker, and I found out I was good at it.
So when this person pulled on my arm, I reacted, drawing on the training I'd had drilled into my head by my instructor, Brinley. I leaned into him, bent my arm and then yanked up, causing him to lose his grip. Then I punched with my left hand, which held my car keys.
I was aiming for the dude's face, but it was freaking dark outside and I must have missed. I hit a solid wall of muscle. The grunt that followed made me happy, but I didn't waste any time to see what exactly I'd hit. I spun and ran.
I only made it three steps before the man grabbed me, his arms circling my chest, pinning my arms to my body. I was pressed up against his chest and I hesitated for only a split second when a whiff of cologne caught my attention. A well-groomed robber?
With a swift mental stifle of my hormones, I lifted my foot, clad in the latest brown leather, heeled boot from Stuart Weitzman, and jammed it down on the bastard's foot.
He yelped, releasing me instantly. "Dammit, Bailey!"
I spun around to face him, eyes bugging out of my head. My first thought was even more panic. The fucker knew my name! Then my brain finally processed what my eyes were seeing.
Jack.
Oh shit.
He was hunched over, his foot lifted in the air, hands already assessing the damage.
I'd just assaulted a police officer.
"Guess we're gonna need those handcuffs after all..." I murmured. In my defense, I was certain I'd just said that in my head, not out loud. I wouldn't have normally taunted nor flirted with a wounded bull.
His head whipped up and his glare was lethal. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
I folded my arms across my chest, tucking my shaking hands away from view. I tossed my hair and assumed a haughty stance. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
He took a few steps, limping, coming within inches of touching me where I stood. I'd admit, he was intimidating. But my sass was immune to most forms of intimidation, finely hewn over years of rough neighborhoods and pig-headed males.
"I. Asked. First," he grated out, teeth clenched. The low tone of his voice washed over me like a physical thing. It was cold out this late at night at the beach, but all he had to do was keep talking and I'd burn hot enough for all the homeless to gather round me like a camp fire doused with lighter fluid.
I rolled my eyes and smiled at him, like he was just a big, silly boy. "I just thought I'd hang at the beach. I lost track of time. I was walking back to my car when I was rudely stopped."
He squinted his eyes at me and still didn't move back. I was okay with him invading my space. That cologne I'd smelled earlier was actually that new Calvin Klein one I kept smelling at work. Interesting. He didn't seem the ultra-in-style, up-with-all-the-trends kind of guy. Case in point: he had on dark, plain jeans and a dark grey t-shirt. Granted, it all fit like a second skin on his gorgeous body, but not metro or high fashion in any way.
"You just happened to be at the beach at ten, when it's totally dark? And no one's around? Just for fun?" He was trying to grill me, like a delinquent, arrested and being interrogated in a little room at the police station with the one-way glass.
"That's a lot of questions there, Jack. Want to get out those handcuffs first and we can discuss it?" While I was enjoying the opportunity to flirt with a seriously hot man, I was also starting to be a little uncomfortable with his scrutiny. I didn't need it getting out that I was feeding the homeless, or giving out blankets, or otherwise showing I was a fucking sweetie-pie. I had a reputation, you know?
To my amazement, he cracked a full-on smile, showing off a dimple. A goddamn dimple. Mr. Tough Guy had pillowy kissy lips and a dimple. I didn't know if my ovaries could handle the onslaught.
"You couldn't handle my handcuffs, Bailey." He was whispering now, the implication of his words speaking right to my girlie parts, the ones that desperately wanted to see exactly what he'd do when he got me in the cuffs.
I fought to close my mouth, unwilling to let him see that he'd gotten to me. I'd flirt back if it killed me. "Oh, it's not the handcuffs I'd be handling, Jack."
He drifted a hand up my hip, touching the bare skin of my stomach where my crop top didn't quite cover, causing goose bumps to travel all over my body.
"Let's get you to your car." All business once again, he turned me around and took the keys out of my hand. He hit a button and the lights on my car just a few feet away lit up as the doors unlocked.
"Hey!" I didn't mind the man-handling, but I did mind the key-handling. No one touched my car but me. I snatched the keys back out of his hands, earning me a head shake, like I was the ridiculous one.
At my car, I opened the door before Jack could get there. He placed his hand on the door to hold it open as I plopped myself down into the seat and looked up at him with attitude. The expression I was going for was 'get your fucking hand off my car door and let me go.' I'm pretty sure he got the message but just didn't care.
"Hold up. How do you know my name?" I suddenly needed to know. Did Esa tell him or did he look me up?
"Bailey Smith, like Smith and Wesson. I make it my job to know all potential threats. Stay out of trouble, Bailey."
With that parting shot, he shut my door and stepped back, watching me drive off. I wasn't sure if he meant stay away from the beach at night, or stay away from him. Because in my book, they were both trouble.
When I got home, I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed with my laptop. I went straight to the search bar at the website of the company I worked for. I searched for clearance coats and pulled up the ones I'd marked down that morning. A click of the button and ten of them were added to my cart. A few more clicks and I'd purchased them.
Remember how I'd said I'd explored all legal routes to help the homeless? Well, now I was exploring the grey area. The grey where I didn't want Jack putting his nose in and sniffing around.
When clothes came through that had to be marked down, I always kept an eye out for anything that would help people living on the streets. Long
johns, sweats, coats, blankets, you catch my drift. When the good stuff came through, I'd mark down around ten units significantly more than I was supposed to. That same day, I'd purchase the ten units for the steep discount, making sure to use a different IP address each time, just in case someone from my company saw a pattern and tried to investigate who the buyer was. A pre-paid Visa was the payment method which didn't lead back to me. I even had the items delivered to a PO box registered to an LLC I'd created as a shell company.
So far, no one was the wiser, my company sold their clearance items quickly, and the homeless had the items they needed to survive. It was a win-win for everyone. No need for Jack to get involved.
I rebooted my computer and logged back into our company website, clicking on the Latest Arrivals. Out of the top twenty new clothing items, about half were from the tiny up-and-coming designers I'd found. Again, this was in that grey area of legal or ethical.
My job was to find the best clothes and accessories for my clients. Many times, the best clothes weren't the designers that were household names. So many new designers just needed a break to get their clothes seen. I only changed the listings and put in a small designer when I truly did believe in them. They deserved a spot on the website so everyone could see how great they were. Again, it was a win-win: my customers got access to fabulous clothes, and the small designers got the attention they deserved.
I shut everything down, feeling slightly guilty for the first time over my tampering. Jack's angry face flashed in my mind.
"Ugh!" I flounced off my bed to put my laptop on my desk. No need to start thinking of the detective and get all second-guessy about my actions. I was helping people.
End of story.
Time to relegate that man's face to my hot dreams, not my conscience.
3
Past - Bailey
I woke to a flurry of texts, mostly from my clients, with events they urgently needed outfits for, or a new style they'd seen a friend wear and absolutely had to have ASAP. This was standard procedure for a personal shopper. Our relationship elevated to besties when they needed my expertise with style. I knew it was an important form of status to be able to say you had a personal shopper on speed dial, and I was happy to provide them with that illusion. As long as I got paid.
Blurry-eyed and fuzzy headed from some interesting dreams featuring you-know-who, I scrolled through my texts while yawning and stretching. Then my eyes shot open and my thumb quit scrolling.
A text from Jack.
How the hell did he even get my number?
I smiled a devious smile, knowing he had to have dug around or asked around in order to get it. That took effort, meaning he had to be interested in me, right?
I clicked on the text and read through quickly. It was easy to read since it was only one sentence.
Jack: Why are you a regular down at the homeless camps on the beach?
Gah! Why was he snooping around in my business? Enough with the damn questions. Why couldn't the man just flirt with me instead of constantly interrogating me?
Me: That's for me to know and you to find out.
That ought to piss him off. He was used to people trembling at his scowl and telling him everything he wanted to know. Well, I wasn't a criminal, and I had no intention of answering his questions.
Unless it was to ask me if I'd like to go back to his place. I'd answer that one in a heartbeat.
I showered, got dressed, and took plenty of time with my hair and make-up before I ventured downstairs to grab coffee and head off to work. I hadn't heard Esa yet this morning so she must be going straight to work from spending the night at Ivan's place. I missed seeing her as often, but I was super duper happy she'd found a good man. I had a really good feeling about this one. And my feelings were never wrong.
As much as I gave them shit for canoodling all over the house, I was envious. I'd never seen Esa so happy and I wanted that for myself. I wanted someone to be there for me no matter what. To warm my bed, text me cute little emojis and rub my feet when I got home from work. Ivan was a manly man through and through, yet he did all those things for Esa. She may have found a unicorn, but I was determined to prove that he wasn't the last one on earth. I just may have to wait a while to find him.
I spent all day texting back clients, finding the clothes they needed, pulling sizes, colors, and accessories. Then they came in to try things on and hopefully, make the purchase. I had just finished ringing up my last client and giving her air kisses before she walked off with two bulging bags when one of my coworkers came to the register.
"Where's that mobile scanner? I want to buy one of the jackets you marked down yesterday but I can't find them." She was looking through the cabinets below the register for our scanner that held info on the location of every item in our store. I had it in my pocket and handed it to her when she stood back up.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, like impending doom was pressing in around me. I already knew the answer to the disappearing jackets, but I wouldn't be the bearer of bad news. Besides, she wasn't too bright, so I shouldn't bother worrying about her putting two and two together.
She jabbed the screen for a bit and then huffed. Her voice had always annoyed me. Too screechy and piercing. She upped the volume on that annoying voice and looked at me in disbelief. "Oh, my God! They all sold. How the hell did that happen?"
I swallowed and pursed my lips in a calm smile. "I'm not sure, honey, but let's keep our voices down, okay?" There were always customers milling about and I didn't need them hearing her bitching. Especially when it was about those coats I'd priced super low and purchased last night.
She covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, sorry. I just wanted one so badly and was waiting for them to be clearanced." She was whispering now but still annoying.
"Snooze you lose, darling. You should know that working here." I was being a bitch, I knew, but I couldn't help myself around her.
She pouted, probably thinking she looked cute and sexy with her lower lip turned out like that. I clenched my teeth to keep from rolling my eyes. I was all about women feeling sexy in their own skin, but finding that sexiness naturally. When women had to force it, or they kept doing things they thought were sexy, but are totally contrived, I just couldn't stand it.
"I'm out, girlie. Make sure you put the scanner back under the register. I'll see you tomorrow?" I had enough time to head home, change, grab Esa from work and hit the beach for a run with her and Brinley. She dropped the pout and lit up in a smile, nodding her head yes. Lucky me, I got to work with her again tomorrow.
On the walk to my car in the parking garage, my phone beeped, alerting me to another text. I didn't bother to look at it. Whichever client it was would just have to wait until tomorrow.
I got in my car and like a glutton for punishment, got my phone out and checked the text. I couldn't handle having an unread text. I know, I know, totally obsessed and chained to my technology.
And what a good thing that turned out to be.
Jack: Your homeless friends had some fancy, brand new blankets. Any idea where those came from?
Me: You're like a dog with a bone. Give it up, nothing to see here. Well...there is, but not for you...
Jack: I saw plenty the other night when you had that short robe on...
Ahh! The man can flirt! I laughed out loud in my car, feeling a huge hit of pride knowing he finally took the bait and was flirting with me. Then as quickly as the sun had come out, it dimmed again when I realized I shouldn't be flirting with him. He was dangerous to my mission. I didn't need him poking his nose into my charitable activities.
Me: Consider that a pity glimpse. It won't happen again.
Jack: There was nothing pitiful about it.
Jack: And it will happen again.
Me: Presumptuous much?
Jack: Confident
Me: *eyeroll*
I threw my phone back in my bag and took off. I couldn't seem to control my flirting routine whe
n it came to him. I'd better be careful. A man like that would be hell on my need for space and independence. He seemed like he needed to be in control and there were only a few times I allowed anyone to control me. And they all happened to be in the bedroom.
A long, sweaty run on the beach was exactly what I needed to get him out of my head. Besides, we had an incident on the beach. We thought Esa's stalker was following us. We had to run up to a lifeguard and get him to intervene. Come to find out, the guy following us was actually a body guard Ivan's family hired, but forgot to tell her about.
Meanwhile, I distracted myself by playing with the lifeguard. Yes, I took the situation seriously, but holy hell, that man was fine. He was built like a brick house and I was sure all the equipment matched. Before he dropped us off, I'd snuck a hand high on his thigh while I was crammed into the truck cab next to him. I even got a phone number.
Take that, Jack.
I went out with my new lifeguard friend, Jax, a few times over the next few weeks. He was nice to look at and a fun guy overall, but by the third date, I was sick of hearing about his ex-girlfriend and I hadn't even gotten a feel of his equipment to verify if my guess was correct.
It was going nowhere fast, but it was a nice distraction from Jack's texts that would come out of nowhere and derail me for several days. It was like he knew when I was writing him off. He'd send a quick text, get me hot and bothered and confused again. And then he'd disappear.
You've heard of a cock tease, right? Well, this fucker was the original clit tease.
I wasn't getting any action from Jax, but my collection of vibrators was always there for me. Hey, no judgies! I had to watch Esa and Ivan petting each other left and right, thinking I couldn't hear their moans and groans. I was getting no action from Jax or Jack. I had to take my frustration out somehow.
I shouldn't have worried though. Everything heated up late one afternoon when I went to meet Esa at Chocolate Dreams to go for our beach run. We'd just left her shop and were headed down to the parking garage to get the shoes she'd forgotten in her car.
