Strangers in the Night

by Ines Saint

  “My body lotion is coconut scented and I always use sunscreen; even in winter.”

  “Well, it’s distracting.”

  “Well, I’ve never gotten any complaints.”

  “I wasn’t complaining. It was just an observation,” he said, pushing his chair back. He was supposed to be thinking about music education, not picturing Keila in a bikini at the beach.

  Keila pursed her lips and looked back down at the information in front of her. “I’m glad the program will include voice lessons,” she then remarked distractedly as she continued to read. “It’s my favorite instrument and I’m sure some really talented young singers will be discovered.”

  “What’s your favorite instrument?” he asked, confused.

  “The human voice. I mean, I cherish the violin, of course, but no instrument comes close to expressing such a range of raw emotions as the human voice. Don’t you think?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “Don’t you ever feel overwhelmed with one particular feeling?” she asked, and he didn’t answer. He couldn’t, really. Why would he want to open himself up to her like that? “Well, I do, sometimes,” she continued. “And nothing comes close to making me feel understood than the right words and the right voice.”

  “Do you feel everything so deeply?” he couldn’t help asking.

  “Only the things that matter. What about you? How deeply do you feel the things that matter to you?”

  Jake didn’t answer. He just looked at her, and, for some reason, she didn’t look away this time. She just studied him. And her expression was so warm and open, that even though he felt at odds with her over her little speech to the blogger, her presence still made him feel high.

  The moment stretched and an unusual energy began to flow, alive and connected between them. When it got to be too much, she looked away first, obviously uneasy. “I hate that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t figure you out.”

  “You feel absolutely no connection to me whatsoever,” Jake cited part of her video speech, raising an eyebrow, “Yet you try hard to figure me out?”

  “I think about many people and I try to figure out lots of things,” Keila said, and she cleared her throat.

  Jake soon got them back on track, if only to make them both feel comfortable again. Little by little, he drew her back to the subject at hand.

  Then once again, toward the end of their meeting, just when they’d gotten to a place of amity, they hit another snag. Jake was almost glad for it, because he didn’t welcome the feelings Keila was awakening.

  “I don’t think their progress should be evaluated until they reach at least fifth grade. We should instead go on attendance.” Keila leaned in, determination in her voice.

  “We need to evaluate progress at every grade level because we can’t continue to allocate funds to students who aren’t showing interest,” Jake said, his tone firm.

  “If they’re showing up, they’re showing interest,” Keila replied, her eyes flashing.

  “No. If they’re getting better it means they’re practicing, and that means they’re showing interest.”

  “No. Some students take longer to develop their fine motor skills, and they may be practicing, but just not mature enough to show signs of improvement.” She had begun to obsessively click her pen in an obvious attempt to hold on to her temper.

  “They have to show signs of improvement to remain in the program.” Jake gathered his things in one quick sweep and stood up.

  She pushed her chair back, “I don’t appreciate this Darwinist view of little kids, Jake, where only the strongest survive,” she accused.

  “You’re spinning the meaning of what I said, Keila, and while I appreciate the intentions of your overly idealistic heart, I don’t agree with you.” Jake turned his back to her and walked toward his desk, hearing her promptly get up and walk after him. He turned and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms to calmly and quietly face another one of her fits. He would not be making the mistake of calling her over-emotional this time around.

  “At least — ”

  “At least you have a heart. Right. Very original,” he interrupted.

  She looked up at him, trying hard not to show she was fuming, but failing miserably. “You want to talk unoriginal, Jake? Then let’s talk about your tie. Your ugly, boring, full-blown conservative tie,” she looked up at him, her eyes shooting sparks. “Let’s talk about how, if you loosened it just a little, a tiny burst of oxygen might get through to your brain and you could come up with a few better ideas.” She flicked his tie with the tips of her fingers.

  He unconsciously took hold of her hand just as she was withdrawing it from his tie, about to say he wasn’t going to give in to her demands this time. But the moment he felt her warm, soft hand in his own and her eyes flew up to meet his; he forgot what he was going to say. In one instant, anger was replaced by awareness. Her eyes moved down to his lips and then quickly back to his eyes. It took every smidgen of willpower in Jake’s possession not to slam his mouth down on hers and get rid of all the tension once and for all.

  Conscious that Tyrone had come to stand at the door, Jake let go of Keila’s hand just as she stepped away.

  “You told me to interrupt you at twelve-thirty...is it hot in here, or is it me?” Tyrone asked, watching them and running a finger around his shirt collar.

  “It’s you,” they answered in unison.

  Keila looked down, visibly swallowed, and then looked up at him again, her eyes pleading. “Please promise you’ll really think it through before you make a final decision.”

  It took a moment for Jake to remember what she was talking about. “Right,” he finally agreed, sighing. “I’ll think it through. It’s the only thing left to do before we’re done here.”

  • • •

  Keila barely nodded at his tired words. They were done here. And she was relieved, truly she was. Nothing had ever made her as uneasy as Jake pinning her with those amazing eyes, breathing hard, and looking as if he were going to drag her back to his cave. Because she wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to drag her back to his cave, and she wasn’t so sure he’d have to drag her. She’d never felt anything like the mesmeric pull she felt toward him and her body was beginning to demand to know what came next.

  Walking back to the conference table, she tried to make sense of her lustful thoughts. Her intuitive womanly instincts felt positive their attraction was mutual, but her wary, logical brain knew it was probably her misplaced vanity coloring things. After all, nobody ever wanted to believe they were alone in their feelings. She could easily be reading attraction to her into Jake’s exasperation and annoyance with her.

  As she finished placing every sheet into its correct folder in her briefcase, she asked herself what she would even do if Jake did want her. The answer was a quick nothing; because she was too smart and too much of a goody two-shoes for anything else. She zipped her case shut.

  “My next meeting is up near the Gold Coast; I can give you a ride to the Loop,” Jake’s sedate voice cut through her thoughts, and his whole demeanor was now so formal and detached, she was now certain her instincts were wrong and her logical brain was right. So why the offer of a ride if he’d been annoyed with her just a moment before? And what was it with him and rides? Was it a control thing?

  But she remembered his whispered admission on Friday night, that he just couldn’t stand the idea of her lugging her stuff onto trains all over town. It made her wonder if that was what people called rich guilt.

  Exasperated and confused, Keila sighed, as purposefully and audibly as possible, before turning to face him. “I don’t need for you to give me a ride. I’m sorry that you just can’t stand the thought of me hauling my stuff onto buses and trains, but I guess you’ll just have to live with your pity.”

  “Pity?” Jake repeated; his throat muscles visibly working.

  “I can give you a ride, Keila,” Tyrone cut in. “I’m actually headed to Cit
y Hall and I’d enjoy your company.”

  “Thank you, Tyrone, I accept your non-pitiful, purely coincidental offer to keep you company,” Keila replied.

  “You’ll accept a ride from Tyrone, but you won’t accept a ride from me,” Jake stated matter of fact, his arms now crossed.

  “Tyrone and I have bonded,” she said. “He brought me food the night of your fundraiser and the other day he apologized for being a jerk instead of just letting it slide.”

  “Actually, both times it was — ” Tyrone began, but a look from Jake cut him off.

  “It was his pleasure,” Jake said and turned away.

  As Tyrone and Keila walked to his car, Keila struggled with gusts of unrelenting wind. Her skirt kept billowing up and she pinned the front of it with her violin case. To her utter embarrassment, a sudden blast sent the back of her skirt flying up to her waist. She almost dropped her violin case trying to pull her skirt back down to cover her unfortunate choice of satiny hot pink bikini panties.

  “Don’t you dare look,” she warned Tyrone, who’d noticed her struggle and was trying not laugh. She placed both her violin case and brief case on the sidewalk and quickly reached behind her. Just as she grabbed her skirt, a loud honk told her she was too late. Her face felt aflame and she could swear smoke was coming out of her ears when she turned to glare at the honking driver.

  It was Jake and he was looking at her from above his sunglasses, sporting a half-demon, half-appreciative, all-male smile. She’d seen this bedeviled side of him a few times now, and, adding insult to injury, she was as intrigued as she was furious. Tyrone laughed harder and Keila turned, picked up her things with as dignified a posture as possible, and marched forward, cheeks blazing; thoughts murderous.

  A good twenty minutes of silence later, Keila sat in Tyrone’s Toyota Camry, admiring his profile. Turning away, she realized Tyrone was also the type of male she usually avoided because he to seemed too virile for his own good. But for some reason, he didn’t make her uncomfortable, the way Jake Kelly did. Tyrone didn’t give her the tingles and his presence didn’t have her feeling edgy and nerve-racked.

  As if sensing the subject of her thoughts, Tyrone said, “I know you and Jake are rubbing each other the wrong way for reasons both of you are intent on ignoring, but I want you to know that he isn’t the type to pity people.”

  “I’m not ignoring anything, I just don’t get him, that’s all,” Keila sighed. “One minute he acts like he can’t wait to get away from me and then he turns around and wants to do something nice that involves spending even more time with me. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Clueless,” Tyrone sighed under his breath.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Listen, Keila, I know Jake and he … admires you. And not just the assets he got a good look at today,” he added with a wicked gleam before becoming serious. “He sees how you go about your day, crisscrossing clear across Chicago, never complaining, never expecting anything from anyone, just being genuinely grateful for the opportunities you have and giving them your absolute all.”

  Keila didn’t know what to think. She just wanted Friday night to come and go so she would never have to see Jake Kelly again.

  The moment Tyrone pulled up to Symphony Hall and Keila saw Tania waiting for her, she felt better. “Sorry you bore the brunt of the bad mood our boss put me in,” she said.

  Tyrone grinned. “You can make it up to me by introducing me to your sister.”

  Keila observed him closely. “Are you the one who sent her chocolate-covered boxers with a cherry on top last week?” she asked.

  Tyrone laughed. “Definitely not. I just think she’s hot and smart. I guess it runs in the family,” he winked her way, and Keila giggled. At that moment, Tania looked their way, zeroed in on Tyrone, and got the squinty-eyed, glowering look she acquired whenever she saw something she didn’t like.

  “You know what? Forget I said anything,” Tyrone suddenly decided.

  “What are you doing, riding in a car with a dangerous man?” Tania asked as soon as Keila greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

  “He’s not dangerous, he’s Tyrone. And he likes you.”

  “Yeah, I got that by the way he looked at me. Listen, if you learn anything from your older sis, let it be this: stay away from magnetic, hungry-eyed men. Trust me, they’re dangerous,” Tania warned.

  “How do you know he’s magnetic? You weren’t anywhere near him.”

  “I can sense a magnetic man’s force field as soon as it invades my comfort zone.”

  “And how can you tell when a man has hungry eyes?” Keila asked.

  “You look into his eyes and if instead of your own reflection you see prey, he’s hungry and about to pounce. Run.”

  Keila laughed.

  “Learn from me, Keila. Freeze them out, just like this,” Tania’s fingers circled around the fierce scowl on her face.

  What Tania didn’t know was that Keila had learned plenty from both her sister and her mom, a long time ago. It wasn’t men in general who were dangerous. No. It was the woman’s reaction to that certain man who just happened to know exactly how to push the woman’s right buttons. It led to ignition and fire; followed by either total combustion or a fizzling out of the flame. Both ends were painful.

  Keila’s mom and dad had been passionate about each other. They were the type to share a deep kiss and meaningful embrace every time they said hello and every time they said goodbye. They held hands and looked into each other’s eyes during even the most mundane conversations, and everyone around them felt either lucky or disgusted, depending on their mood, to be in the presence of such love.

  But after her father died, Graciela became a living ghost. She’d been a caring, devoted mother, but for years, as hard as she’d tried, she just never seemed as whole again, like she was never completely there. After losing their father in such a violent way, Tania and Keila, shocked, broken, and forever changed, soon learned they’d lost a part of their mother as well.

  Keila wanted to be whole for her children, if she ever had any. She didn’t want anyone taking a piece of her with them.

  Tania was a different story altogether, but both women were cautionary tales.

  Keila yearned for deep friendship and strong compatibility; that had staying power, and it was a lot less likely to lead to havoc or misery. Deep love and passionate love just didn’t mix well in her book.

  • • •

  Even after a relaxing, non-stop gabbing lunch date, Keila still felt wound up too tight. She was grateful for the practice session with the string quartet and looked forward to spending the next four hours in the company of beautiful music and friendly people.

  As soon as she arrived, she was greeted with ear-to-ear grins. Simone was the first to speak, pointing to her laptop on the table. “I was just showing Ralph and Michelle your video on YouTube, and Michelle and Ralph had some interesting insights on your performance,” she said; her eyes full of mischief.

  Keila turned to Ralph and Michelle. “Performance? I wasn’t performing; I was setting the record straight, the way I did with you guys last week.”

  Michelle clucked her tongue. “I don’t know, Keila. I mean, I believe you when you say nothing’s going on between you two, but I couldn’t help notice he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you for a while there the night of his fundraiser.”

  “Because he didn’t know I’d be there, and trust me, I was probably the last person he wanted to see. The last time we’d seen each other, we’d gotten into a heated argument,” Keila explained. Had she actually thought this crowd was friendly a few minutes before?

  “Heat,” Ralph grinned. “Interesting choice of words. I was just telling Michelle and Simone about your little encounter with Jake in the hall after the fundraiser. It was pretty heated and intense. Seriously, I felt stifled; I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”

  “It was tense, not intense: just tense.” Stress crept into Keila’s
voice.

  “Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. For now. We know you don’t know us well enough to trust us with your hot, torrid secrets,” Simone teased as she sat down on one of the four chairs she’d set up by a window with great city views.

  “Sorry, Keila.” Michelle sat down, too, before looking up at her, wearing a sincere expression. “It’s just — your manner is usually so open and inviting, but you react differently when Jake comes up. You close up. But we’ll let it go.”

  Keila put her bag and violin case down, and slumped in a chair. Thoughts and talk of Jake agitated her, and she felt like she was bottling too much of it up because she really didn’t know who to talk to about it. Cate adored Jake, Tania hated men, Robbie and her mother wouldn’t let it go if she mentioned her feelings; they’d be ecstatic. “Que romántico!” they’d squeal. She cringed at the thought of it before blowing out a breath. “This is the first and only time I will ever mention this, okay? So I will say it out loud once because I think it will do me good to get it off my chest, and we will never speak of it again, understood?”

  Three heads simultaneously nodded. She sucked in her lips. “Okay. Here goes. My body is hot for Jake. My brain, however, is totally not. I can’t help it. My brain has had long conversations with my body, but my body won’t listen. That’s it. There’s really nothing going on between the two of us, I promise.”

  “So you’re hot for Jake and that’s it.” Ralph repeated.

  “That’s what’s got you so worked up?” Simone asked. “Honey, I’m sure you’re not the only woman in Chicago who’s hot for Jake Kelly. I mean, my grandma is hot for him. She smacks her lips together a few times and then slowly licks them whenever she sees him on TV.”

  Ralph shuddered at the image and a bout of giggles overtook Michelle and Simone; moments later, Keila joined in.