“Excuse me. Can I get a hand?”
Sara moved quickly to relieve a petite brunette of the large package she was carrying.
“Thanks. Can I leave that with you for a moment while I run upstairs to get a cart?”
“I’d be happy to take this upstairs for you, ma’am.”
“Oh, you’re a godsend,” the woman said with a sigh of relief. “I almost got a hernia carrying it from the car. I’m on the seventh floor. Baker International. Talya Buttons, if anyone needs to know.” She led the way to the bank of four elevators.
Sara signaled the guard at the desk. She assumed it was okay to leave her post to offer assistance. The situation had not been specifically spelled out in training or the handbook. But she was being courteous and that came after safety on the company’s list of principles to follow.
“It’s quicker to go this way,” Talya said, making a right after getting off the elevator. Sara stood patiently while Talya unlocked the unmarked door on the north side of the building. They wound through a maze of cubes and ended up at one of the smaller window offices. “I really appreciate the help…” She peered at the badge attached to Sara’s jacket. “Sara. I’ll be sure to let Jackson know how helpful you were.”
“It was no trouble, ma’am. I’d better get back downstairs.” She turned and almost bowled over someone who was trying to enter the office. Quick reflexes had her reaching out to halt the woman’s backward fall. It took longer than it should have for Sara’s brain to realize she had her hands on the waist of the other woman. An attractive, curvy woman with bright, grayish eyes that seemed to see right through her. “Sorry, ma’am.” Red with embarrassment, Sara dropped her hands. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” the woman replied slowly and smiled. “On the upside, I’m wide awake now.”
Sara managed to tear her gaze away from those arresting eyes. “Glad I could be of assistance.” She all but ran from not one, but two very attractive women. Who knew doing a good deed could be dangerous? Definitely need to stay away from Bright Eyes, she told herself as she stepped into the empty elevator. She shouldn’t even think about her glossy lips. And she really wouldn’t think about how the conservative suit had done little to hide generous curves. Curves she had felt with her own hands. That one should come with a danger warning, flashing yellow lights at least.
As she stepped off the elevator, Sara told herself not to think about the quick appraisal from Bright Eyes that seemed to find her satisfactory. No, she needed to get back to her post and concentrate on keeping the lobby safe and not on the fact that Bright Eyes had felt good in her hands.
* * *
“Marianna Kirkland. How may I direct your call?”
“You were right on,” Mikaela said with no preamble.
“I usually am. What was I right about this time?”
“The new security guard. I got a chance to see her up close and personal. In fact, she couldn’t keep her hands off of me.”
“What?”
“Okay, so I was about to fall down at the time. Didn’t lessen the jolt that zinged through my body like a double shot of caffeine.”
“Have you been drinking already?”
Mikaela laughed. “Feels like it after getting the once-over from those amazingly blue eyes.” She exhaled. “I thought I was going to self-combust.”
“You need to rewind to the beginning.”
“I literally ran into her as she was coming out of Talya’s office. Lucky for me, she caught me before I dented the floor with my ass.”
“And what was she doing in Talya’s office?”
“Gutter brain. She was nice enough to carry up a box. Wish I could have seen her muscles bulging.”
“Kind of hard to see through the jackets they’re required to wear.”
“Don’t go toying with my fantasies.”
“Did you get a number? A woman needs to act on her fantasies.”
“Get real. Like I’m going to try to pick up a woman with my boss standing right there. Unlike you, I am a professional. But…” She sighed. “That is one gorgeous woman—who’s bound to have not only a girlfriend, but a million women throwing themselves at her feet. Definitely ‘Look, but don’t touch’ material, and looking is just fine. Mighty fine.”
“How selfish of you. What fun is it for me to live through you vicariously if you can’t make the big move? Dang. Another call’s coming in. We’ll talk more later.”
Just as well they got interrupted, Mikaela thought and hung up the phone. She hadn’t been thinking right, calling Marianna and opening her big mouth. Now she’d be dodging ridiculous suggestions on how to get Sara to go out with her. Hell, she wouldn’t put it past her fool of a friend to try and set them up. Not like she hadn’t done it before. Mikaela cringed as she recalled the date with the cute woman who hadn’t been up on basic things like industrial-strength deodorant.
“I’ve been summoned upstairs.” Talya stopped in front of Mikaela’s desk. “The big shot from the main office finally made it in. I might not get back until lunchtime.”
“Gotcha. I’ll go ahead and take a final pass at the brochure for the summit meeting while you’re gone. And don’t forget you’re supposed to be working on the handouts that go with the brochure. We have to get those packets out by Friday, meaning everything has to go to the printer by noon Thursday.”
“Too late. I forgot.” Talya pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful. “Why don’t you start working on the handouts based on what I’ve already given you. Then when I get back, I’ll take over. Yeah, that would be a good task for you.”
“Good for what?” She eyed Talya with suspicion. Knowing her boss, and she did, this had something to do with Jolene’s position.
“Your future marketability, of course.” Talya gave her a finger wave as she left.
“Marketability, my ass.”
* * *
By the time Mikaela made it home, almost two hours later than usual, she was ready to veg out in front of the TV and give her brain the evening off. Talya had ended up spending most of the day holed up with Bill and the big wig, Mr. Trenton, leaving Mikaela responsible for finishing the job of turning Talya’s meager notes into handouts. She’d done enough today that by the end of the day tomorrow the materials should be ready for Talya’s approval.
As she trudged up the steep hill to the gated condos, which had formerly been an all-girls school, she felt a good measure of satisfaction. She had to admit it had been stimulating to use something she’d learned in her business classes. But now she was ready to un-stimulate, maybe with a glass of wine. A big glass of wine.
Her cell rang as she was punching in her code on the keypad for entry. “Un-fucking-believable,” she said, seeing Nina’s name on the screen. Had she brought this call upon herself with yesterday’s thoughts? she wondered. If so, she took it all back. The technical dump was now back to an official dump. “Hear that, phone? You can stop ringing now. I, Mikaela Vanessa Small, do solemnly declare I got dumped.” Grumbling under her breath, she stuffed the ringing phone back into her coat pocket and trudged across the parking lot to Casey’s four-bedroom condo.
After hanging up her coat, she was drawn by the scents of garlic twined with onions and tomatoes into the kitchen. Casey, dressed in old sweats, her hair pulled back into a casual ponytail, stirred a pot of heaven.
“Spaghetti sauce?” Mikaela guessed. She took a deep breath and her stomach rumbled.
“With turkey meatballs.”
Mikaela, who’d been considering having canned soup for dinner, almost melted. “I love you.”
Casey laughed. “Enough to throw a salad together?”
“So much more. Back in a sec.” Motivated by food, she quickly shed her work clothes and rejoined Casey. “You should know I met a goddess today. Five-nine, handsome, gorgeous blue eyes.” She sighed as she washed her hands. “Eye candy for days. The yummy kind with caramel in the middle.”
“Does the goddess have a name?”
>
“Sara Gordon, according to her name tag. She’s new in security. Oh, and quick reflexes,” she added, removing the salad ingredients from the fridge. “Her saving me from falling was the highlight of my day. I swear I could spend all day looking at her and be satisfied. That is as long as I had someone on the side for the occasional booty call.” Mikaela wiggled her eyebrows.
“Speaking of someone on the side, Nina called me looking for you.”
“She can look all she wants. She will not find.” Mikaela took great pleasure in ripping the lettuce to pieces. “She called me about five minutes ago. I was smart enough not to answer. You should start screening your calls.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Casey grabbed a knife from the block and sliced a baguette, then slathered it with butter. “Why is she calling you anyway?”
“My fault. Yesterday I was thinking about the lame date, then getting dumped. Hey!” Mikaela turned to Casey, her eyes narrowed. “That means it’s your fault, not mine. Without the date from hell, I wouldn’t have awakened Nina from the dead by thinking of her.”
“Uh, turkey meatballs, my famous spaghetti sauce and garlic bread. Come on, Mike, that has to balance the scales some. The yang to your yin.” Casey moved her hands like she was practicing martial arts. “And there will be wine.”
“Wine?”
“Got it breathing.” Casey pointed to the bottle of red, sitting on the counter.
“I guess you get another lucky day.”
Casey bowed her head. “The future love of my life thanks you.”
“What future love? You’re never going to find her pulling all those billable hours of yours. When was the last time you did anything on the weekend but work? Are you expecting her to come waltzing up to the door?”
“Waltzing, no. Maybe on horseback using her long curly locks to cover her nakedness.”
Mikaela snorted as she chopped an orange bell pepper. “Pour us some wine, so you can say you have alcohol to blame for your foolishness.”
“It could happen.”
“Not likely. You could even your odds by going to places Lady Godiva might hang out. I’m thinking she might want to get to know you before she comes over naked. But that could just be my way of thinking.”
“Okay.”
To Mikaela, Casey sounded entirely too agreeable. “Okay, what?”
“You’re right. I need to get out more.” Casey turned off the beeping oven timer and reached for a pot holder. “I was thinking of checking out this place near work tomorrow. It’s called Pool. I hear a lot of lesbians have started showing up on Wednesdays for the drink specials.”
Mikaela studied her friend carefully and not only because Casey was removing mouth-watering meatballs from the oven. Something was going on here. Was Casey trying to set her up without seeming to set her up? Surely not after Sunday night’s fiasco. Still…“Look, if this is some way to introduce me to another friend of a—”
“No.” Casey shook her head vehemently. “Believe me, I want to live. I want to find Lady Godiva. I heard it was a cool place and thought I would check it out. Seems like it would be more fun with a friend along.”
It did sound like fun. Mikaela weighed the pros and cons as she sliced a cucumber. A little conversation, maybe some flirting, would go a long way to erase the taste of defeat lingering at the back of her throat. “No funny stuff, right?”
“Come on, cool place, lesbians, remember? Bound to be some funny stuff, but not from me. But the drinks will be. On me, that is.”
“I’m there.” She scraped thinly sliced cucumbers into the salad bowl and moved to halving cherry tomatoes. “What time? I shouldn’t have to work late tomorrow.”
“I could pick you up after work, go from there.” Casey slid the pan with the bread into the oven and set the timer.
“That doesn’t make sense if it’s near your office. I’ll catch the train and meet you there. Five forty-five?” That would give her more than enough time to redo her makeup and take the train to Midtown. She could wear the red dress to work. It pushed against the borders of professionalism but didn’t cross them. She would have to take an extra pair of shoes—the black ones with the red stripes, which were more suited for showing off her legs than being practical for work. And she should probably take that little bottle of perfume.
It took Mikaela a minute to realize Casey was trying to get her attention. “What?”
“Wine. Where did you go?”
“Planning my outfit.” She accepted the glass of wine, then took a sip, enjoying the smooth, the tang. “Definitely your lucky day.”
Chapter Three
Sara sat quietly in the dark, dirty corner. She had her legs clamped together, but it didn’t really help. She had to pee bad. Real bad, but she was too scared to leave the hiding place though she didn’t exactly know why.
Grabbing her crotch, she wondered if maybe she could sneak out real quiet like and use her parents’ bathroom, then come back. That would be better than peeing on herself like a baby. She took off her shoes, crawled over to the opening, leaned her ear against the wall and listened for any sound before she eased out the cover to her hideaway.
Her heartbeat was loud in her head as she waited for something bad to happen. When it didn’t, she dared to ease through the opening. On all fours, she crawled through the closet and into her parents’ room. Once again she paused, listened carefully. Once again nothing happened. She pushed herself to her feet and tiptoed to the bathroom.
Holding herself, she bit her lip as she stood in the doorway, unsure if she should close the door or not. If she closed the door, someone might notice, but if she left it open someone might hear her peeing. Gently closing the door most of the way, she rushed to the toilet and peed. Although it would get her in trouble with her mom, she didn’t flush or wash her hands after she finished.
Her stomach rumbled loudly before she made it back to the closet, reminding her she hadn’t had dinner. The alarm clock by the bed showed seven. Her mom should have called her by now, or her dad should have come looking for her. He never let the game go this long. She crept to the door of her parents’ bedroom and listened carefully. The downstairs TV wasn’t even on and her dad always watched the news and fussed at what the people said. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
With a longing look at the closet, Sara went down the first four stairs, then stooped down. The area by the front door was clear. Beating back fear, she slowly made her way down the rest of the stairs, making sure to miss stepping on the creaky parts. The floor felt cold under her bare feet and she shivered. “Mom, Dad,” she called softly. And again silence was her only reply.
* * *
“No!” Sara had to force the word past the scream stuck in her throat. Panting, she put a trembling hand over her heart and felt its rapid beating. She’d been sure a heavy workout before she went to bed would keep her knocked out and dreamless until morning. She’d been wrong.
If anything, the dream had been stronger. And different, she reminded herself, taking deep breaths. In the numerous years since her parents’ deaths, she’d had the dream numerous times, but this was the first time she dreamt about having to pee. Always before she’d left the hiding spot to give up and never with any sense of danger lurking. Usually the only time she’d felt scared was after discovering she was alone in the house.
“It’s the city,” she told herself and hugged her arms. Being back in Atlanta, where the accident had occurred, had to be the reason for the change, the high-definition quality of the dream. Maybe it was time she tracked down the accident report, visited the location where the drunk driver had plowed into their car. Maybe if she met the demon head on, she could put it to rest. Then she might be able to sleep through the night the week leading up to the anniversary of the accident. Then the dream might go away for good.
But not tonight. Sara threw back the covers, swung her legs over the side of the bed and rested her head in her hands. The cat blinked at her from the foot of the bed
as if chastising Sara for disturbing her sleep.
“Sorry, Tab. It’s been that kind of week.” She crossed to the dresser and picked up the lone photo. It was a picture of what her family used to be, taken not long before that terrible day. Her mom looked so beautiful with her strawberry blond hair, hazel eyes and big grin. Her dad looked so handsome and tall with his dark brown hair falling into the blue eyes he’d gifted to her and the dimple in his right cheek. God, she didn’t remember being that happy, but there she was grinning from ear to ear with an arm around each parent. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her two front teeth only halfway in.
Sara smiled. She’d been six and two months when the first tooth fell out. She remembered because of the two shiny quarters under her pillow that had replaced the tooth. God, she wished she could go back to those days when the Tooth Fairy was real. When she’d believe dreams could come true.
“I miss you. I miss us.” She replaced the photo and glanced at the bedside alarm. Too early to get up, but she didn’t want to risk going back to sleep. Sometimes a change of scenery helped quiet the thoughts.
She moved to the tiny living room and settled on the futon. Channel surfing, she stumbled across the classic cartoon station and was instantly transported back to the times she and her dad had gotten up early on Saturday mornings. They’d down huge bowls of cereal while sitting on the floor, watching cartoons. He had been playful that way. Her mother used to complain he was a kid trapped in a man’s body, but she always said it with a smile and never protested when she received a loud, smacking kiss in response.
Sara drifted off without being aware and dreamed of happier times. Times when her mom and dad were part of her life. When the alarm went off in the bedroom, she wanted to cry, not ready to let the good times go. With a sigh, she pushed off the futon and got ready for another long day.
* * *
Mikaela darted into the lobby of her office building at eight twenty Wednesday morning and immediately removed her coat. She quickly discovered the effort was wasted. Sara was nowhere to be seen and thus couldn’t be amazed by how good she looked in the red dress.
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