by Brinda Berry
“Lock. The door has a lock. You should always lock the door.” What an ass. I’m babbling like she’s the first naked female I’ve seen. Granted, she’s got a rack on her that would make most guys speechless.
I liked it better when my oversized T-shirt hid her. It’s the last thing she needs … some guy drooling over her body.
“Thought I did lock it,” she says. “Don’t freak out. It’s fine.”
“No.” If she had a clue about how my desire for her ramped up to runaway train speed, she’d make sure the door stayed locked. “I should’ve knocked.”
The lyrics to a Jelly Bean Queen song sneak in on me. Her body is a masterpiece, Drawn in flesh and blood. Her beautiful art is meant to please, A tattoo on my soul.
“Like I said. It’s okay. There’s some countries where women are topless all the time,” she says.
“Well, here you’d best … um…” Damn. Now I’ve made it sound like she did it on purpose. Ass. Ass. Ass. I suppress a groan.
“Got it. Double-check locks.” She appears in front of me and walks out the game-room door without looking back. “Anyways … where are we going?”
“I have a podcast today. We may hang out and do it at my friend’s house.” I walk ahead of her and lead the way to the garage. We get in my car and I glance over at her. She rubs her bottom lip with two fingers and pauses, looking embarrassed.
“What’s a podcast?” she asks.
“Like a radio show. We do ours and stream it on our website.”
“Stream?” She shakes her head as if she’s changed her mind. “You can show me. Who’s your friend?”
“Malerie.”
“Ah. The not-a-girlfriend.”
“Yeah. And you say that to her and she’s likely to put you on her bad list.” Veronica will understand when she meets Malerie. Malerie and Ace may be the only two people on earth who make love seem like a good thing.
I hit the garage opener and back out, trying to avoid looking at Veronica with the seat belt crossed snuggly over her chest. I can’t unsee her without the shirt.
I’d mentally accused Jordy of all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. Looks like I’m the real jerk.
6
Veronica
When a guy gets a good look at your bare hoohahs, what else can you do but pretend it didn’t happen? I’ve never been the best strategist. But ‘keep calm and ignore’ seems to be working and it’s the only game plan I have.
We sit awkwardly in silence. I wonder if he regrets ever stopping for me. A split second when he made the bad decision to pull over.
I get the feeling Collin might be a worrier. A worrier who keeps a very clean car until the rainy day he picks up a girl on the side of the road. A worrier who thinks he has to ensure said hitchhiker has a place to sleep.
He likes order and schedules and neatness. I knew this immediately after seeing four metal bins lined up on his dresser. All his loose change—pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters—were stored inside. Shiny, perfect stacks of coins.
Not a coin out of place.
“Sorry, again, about your car. You said you would get it detailed, but I think I can get the stains out.” Yesterday’s stain is like a blinding neon sign on the light-beige floor mat. Collin continues to drive without answering.
I try again. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” He flicks a glance at my face. “Not at all.”
Collin does a closed mouth smile that’s not real. It’s so tense he’s probably going to have lip fatigue later.
He hates me, which makes me reexamine myself. I’m usually a pretty likable person—or at least it’s what I’ve been told. I get along with everyone. Well, almost everyone, until three days ago.
I sigh as I look at Collin. Maybe I’m misreading. His face has hard lines. This is a pity because he’s absolutely beautiful in a dark angel sort of way. Black hair cut short over his scalp, purposeful stubble gracing his jaw, cheekbones jutting to frame his face. Some dark, avenging angel. Yeah. He could play Batman in a movie. Even with the mask, I’d recognize those dark eyes anywhere.
“What?” he asks, peering sidelong at me then looking back at the road. “What are you thinking?”
That I’d love to smooth the worry line from your forehead. That your lips look like they’d be delicious. Your intense gaze makes me want to tell you everything. “Nothing,” I answer.
“Here we are,” he says as he stops the car at a set of iron gates and rolls down the glass. There’s a wide brick column with a keypad. Collin presses a series of keys and the doors magically open. The blacktop pavement winds through a heavily wooded area before ending at a circle drive.
We pull in front of the largest house I’ve seen in my entire life. It reminds me of some mansion that might sit among rolling hills in those English movies I’ve seen. There are peaks at several places along a roofline that seems to go on forever.
I’m fairly sure a butler named Jeeves will answer the door.
“She lives here?” I attempt to sound curious instead of country-bumpkin impressed.
“Um-hmm.” He reaches between us to grab his leather bag from the back seat.
I open my door, hop out, and walk to the wide steps leading to a monster of a door.
“Not there,” he says. “We’re going around back.”
I follow Collin’s lead and see what looks like a mini-version of the main house several hundred yards away. “Jeez Louise. I thought you were going to tell me your friend lived in this house.” I thumb toward the larger one. “It’s obscene.”
“I agree.” He smirks and it’s a nice change from the perma-scowl he wears.
Still, the smaller house is at least three times the size of my trailer. “So, does she have some roommates?”
“One.” Collin puts his hand up to knock again just as it opens. A girl appears in the opening, her sleek dark hair swinging as she rushes to give him a full body hug.
“Collin!” She pulls back—smile in place, hair in place, clothes in place. Ugh. So this is the girl who doesn’t want to be his girlfriend. Sell me another line.
I shake the thought. I’m never one to have insecurities or jealousies. People are people, animals wrapped in different packaging. Still, this girl glows so hard she’s iridescent.
Collin pulls back from her embrace. “Somebody must’ve spiked your coffee today. Ace around?” He peers into the doorway over her head.
She doesn’t answer him but looks curiously at me. “I’m Malerie. And you’re…?”
Collin nods at me. “This is Veronica. You remember talking to her on the phone yesterday? She’s going to hang around today.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say and try my best to smile.
Malerie looks me over. “So you’re the girl from yesterday. Come on in.” She holds the door open and waits for us to enter.
I sense her gaze on me as I follow Collin into the house and stand to the side. The room reminds me of the Southern Living magazines I’d flip through back at the Gimme Gas when business was slow. Furniture covered in creamy cotton, fresh flowers in a vase on the coffee table, a distressed door propped up against the wall as if it’s art.
“Ace,” Malerie calls. “Collin is here. Don’t let the dogs out of the bedroom. Collin’s brought someone.”
A door shuts and a guy walks into the room. Boy oh boy. He’s like a cover model matched set with this Malerie girl. Maybe they are both models. They look perfect in this magazine room.
“Didn’t hear you come in.” The guy, Ace, steps forward with his hand out. “I’m Ace.”
“Veronica.” I place my hand in his.
“Veronica,” he nods. “You guys come in. I think Mal told me she talked to you yesterday.”
He moves to put his arms around Malerie’s shoulders and rests his chin on her head.
Malerie elbows him in the gut. “Hey, why don’t you show Collin the new equipment and we’ll be along in a minute. Veronica can help me.”
I’d rath
er follow Collin and Ace. Malerie frowns at me when I don’t immediately follow her. “Come on. We aren’t going far.”
I trail behind her into the creamy-white kitchen and watch her gather fruit from the refrigerator. Everything in this place is creamy. And spotless. They probably have a cleaning lady as well. “What can I do?”
She glances over her shoulder. “Grab a platter. Bottom cabinet near you.”
I open the door and a stack of platters slides onto the floor. The cabinet is packed with dishes. More dishes than I’ve ever seen. “Whoa. Sorry about that.”
Malerie stops what she’s doing and kneels on the floor with me. “No. It’s me. I keep buying this stuff and there’s nowhere to put it.” She pulls a stack out. “Do you need any of this?”
“Umm … no.” I stare into her brown-velvet eyes. No wonder she has the hottie guy Ace.
“I really don’t want Ace to see this. I sort of have a problem with … umm … buying kitchen supplies. I may be obsessed. You probably think this is weird. I just met you and I’m trying to give you stuff.”
“No. Not weird.”
One corner of her mouth tugs. “Really?”
I hesitate. “Maybe a little.”
Malerie’s laugh is a bubbly sound that tickles like the champagne my friend Amy likes so much. “Yeah. It is.” She straightens with a stack of platters. “I like being in the kitchen and I like all this.”
I straighten a stack inside the cabinet and carefully close the door. “So you like to cook?”
“Yeah. But I suck at it.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Why do you think that?”
“Wait until you eat my cooking.” She stands on a chair and opens a high cabinet. “Shh…” She places a finger to her lips. “Ace thinks these are homemade.” Malerie opens a bakery package and arranges muffins on a platter.
“They are homemade. I mean, somebody made them.” I wink at her.
“You’re right. I feel so much better.” She hands me the platter.
“I make these all the time.” I grin at the banana nut muffins. “My brother can eat a dozen of them at a time. He loves them.”
“You make these?”
“Ah, yeah. It’s easy.”
The corners of her mouth tip downward. “I’m getting better, but I still only make a few things well.”
“I’ll teach you.” The words are out of my mouth and I feel so silly since I’ll probably never see her again.
“For real?”
One look at her face and I’m doubly regretting my offer. I’d love to hang out with her and bake.
That’s not going to happen.
Her next question breaks into my thoughts. “How did you and Collin meet?”
Here we go. “I hit his car yesterday.”
She hands me a stack of napkins. “What? Like in a wreck?”
“Exactly like a wreck.”
Malerie’s grin couldn’t get bigger. “And then what?”
“Nothing.”
“You can’t end the story. Something happened because you two are together here.” Malerie picks up a tray of fruit and some coffee mugs. Then she motions with her head for me to follow.
“That’s it.”
“Then you must’ve charmed him on sight. We haven’t seen him with a girl since…” She gives me a speculative look. “Well, anyway, he must like you.”
“It’s not like that. We met yesterday.”
“Hmm…” she answers.
We pass through the living area and walk down a hallway. I notice all the photos lining the wall. Black and white images make me think of scenes straight out of Hollywood. There’s one of a band I recognize, and Collin stands in the middle of the members. I’m dying to slow down and study the pictures, but Malerie doesn’t slow.
Malerie walks to a back door leading outside. “The wreck must’ve been bad. Your arms look terrible.” She doesn’t even turn around as she says it casually.
I freeze while I stare at her back. I didn’t realize she’d noticed.
“Did it total your car?”
“Um … no.” My voice comes out sounding defensive and paranoid.
“Just wondering.” She turns to me. “What’s wrong?” Malerie’s eyebrows draw together.
“Nothing.” I don’t know what Collin wants me to share.
We pass a swimming pool and enter a small building.
“Breakfast is served,” Malerie says while placing items on a table.
“Cool.” Ace gives her an appreciative, hot look as if she’s the only one in the room. “Looks mouthwatering.”
I don’t think he’s talking about the muffins. The room temperature rises a hundred or so degrees.
“Okay then,” Collin says and does some serious throat-clearing. “Getting back to business…” He takes a moment to grab a plate, several pieces of fruit, and an energy drink. “I think we can wait on the video for the website. We should do an outline for next week’s podcast. I’ve already edited this week’s, but Mal needs to sign off on it.”
Ace grabs several muffins and sits in a nearby chair. “And we also have to go over financials today and the new ad we want to run.” He stuffs almost an entire muffin into his mouth, moans, and swallows. “Sorry. I love it when you make muffins.”
Malerie gives me a wide-eyed look and I look away. “Veronica? You want to watch television while we work? It’s fine if you go into the house. You’ll be so bored out here.”
I came to help. I want to be useful. Instead I feel like the unexpected guest that I am.
“Surely there’s something I could do. I won’t get in the way.” I glance around the room and consider the options. We’re in a building that is supposed to be a place for changing into swimwear and the like. Or at least I’m guessing that’s what it is. There’s barely room for the four of us and the table in the middle. There’s a long table set up with some electronics and a heavy-duty copier in the corner.
“I didn’t mean anything.” Malerie purses her lips and turns to Collin. “Tell her I’m thinking of her,” she says with a scowl.
“She’s thinking of you.” Collin is reading a printout and lifts his gaze for a second. He sits in a chair opposite Ace. “Did you project what taking on those new ads would do?” he says to Ace.
Ace looks from his girlfriend to Collin, and then to me. “Veronica? You’re welcome to do anything you want in the house. There’s a television in our bedroom. It’s too hot to take a walk. Or Malerie can get you something to wear if you want to hang at the pool and sunbathe.”
They are desperate to see me doing something besides hovering in this space. It’s like being back in junior high school feeling like the square peg in a round hole bevy of girls.
“That’s a great idea.” Malerie rifles through a wood armoire behind her and pulls out several swimsuits. She holds them out to me with both hands. “Take them in case you decide to swim. We’ll hurry and let you know when we’re done.”
I take the swimsuits.
She turns to Collin. “I like the idea of running the ads at the beginning, like a sponsored-by promo, but I don’t want too many. Ads turn off the listener.”
They’re so busy they don’t even notice when I leave. It’s warm outside and I gaze longingly at the water. They must be friendly with the owners of the mansion to be able to use the pool.
I can’t think of anything better than lying in a lounger and taking a nap. There’s a section where a wooden arbor stands. Underneath the shade sits a chaise lounge with neon pink pillows. There’s even a huge fan outside to cool the sunbather. It’s like the resort pictures I gaze at in the magazines at Gimme Gas.
Inside Malerie and Ace’s house, I find the bathroom and set the swimwear on the counter. It’s a tiny bathroom with an oval mirror over a pedestal sink. I sift through the bikinis and one pieces. The bikinis look like scraps of material and although I lay out at home in a suit as skimpy, I can’t bring myself to do it here.
I strip and put on
a black one-piece. The back dips low and the front barely supports my boobs. I look in the mirror at myself, hating how much I resemble Mama. Of all the things she had to give me, the boobs are nothing but trouble. They draw a lot of attention and have since I got my period.
A knock on the bathroom door sends my pulse into slasher-movie zone.
“Yeah? It’s me, Veronica, in here.” I roll my eyes at myself. Who else would it be?
“Hey. It’s me.” Malerie’s voice sounds amused. “I have some stuff to give you.”
I open the door. “The pool idea sounds nice, so I think I will sit out there.”
“I forgot to tell you where I keep my sunscreen and things.” She walks into the bathroom and I move over. She points at a cabinet. “This is where we keep all the lotions and towels.”
“Holy moley!” Malerie’s staring at the mirror behind me. “What happened to your back?”
I glance over my shoulder and burning disgust rises in my throat. A large purple bruise resides low on my left kidney area. I knew I was sore, but I hadn’t looked in a mirror.
My gaze meets hers and we stand for several seconds, time suspended.
“You have a lot of bruises,” she says, matter-of-factly.
My first instinct is to try to explain. To make excuses. To confide in someone, even if she’s a stranger. But the more I might explain, the less I would be able to say. There are secrets I’ll keep until the day I die.
“You know what?” I say. “Maybe a swim isn’t such a good idea. I think I’m going to put my clothes back on.”
Malerie backs out of the bathroom and never breaks eye contact. A deep furrow lines her brow. “I’ll be here when you come out.”
I hurriedly change and wish I were a good liar. It’s my character strength—or flaw. It’s my purpose for avoiding questions.
Walking into the living area, I spy Malerie puttering around in the kitchen. The house is small and the floor plan open, so her head pops up at my soft footsteps.
“I realize you don’t know me.” Malerie places the muffin platter in the sink. “And I wouldn’t blame you for thinking I’m in your business.”
