Falling Back Together

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Right when we were about to head for the back door, I froze. “What about your car, Cali? It’s out front.”

  “I have no idea!” Her eyes grew wide as she bit her bottom lip.

  The new technician tapped Cali softly on the shoulder. “I’ll bring it around back for you.”

  I noticed that she was staring right at Cali’s black eye while she offered, probably knowing that that bastard had delivered it. Even though no one said it, we knew that Kyle’s outburst was the talk of the town and that people who knew us felt terrible for Cali.

  Cali dug the keys out of her bag and handed them to the timid tech. “Thank you. It’s the white Chevy sedan parked right out front.”

  She nodded and looked down. “I know how those feel. I’m just glad you got out of that situation. I’ll come get you girls and leave the car running just in case.”

  As she walked out of the room, we all just looked at each other. Right when I started to talk, Heather put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her right when she gets her cute little butt back in here. If she isn’t safe at home, I will drag it out of her and arrange for a kidnapping in the middle of the night.”

  We ducked out of the back door as Bobbie came in. “I didn’t see any men in the salon when I was walking out the door.”

  Cali wrapped her tiny frame tightly in a hug. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

  Bobbie let one tear escape before pulling away from Cali’s embrace.

  “You’re welcome. Stay safe.”

  Heather waved to us and we jumped into Cali’s car, not seeing any signs of Kyle in the back alley or another note.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief. “That was a close one!”

  “Heck yes it was! Do you want me to drive you home or over to Mitch’s?”

  I stared out the window for a second. “I think it’s best if Kris picks me up from my house. Besides, I have a lot more clothes to choose from there. Will you help me pick something out? He said I need to dress semi-formal.”

  She nodded and fell deep in thought for a few minutes. “Let’s not tell the guys about what just happened with Kyle, okay? I am just not ready to hear that lecture from them again. Mitch was so pissed at Charley’s.” Cali glanced over at me while I just stared out the windshield. “Mags? You with me?”

  I shook a little to snap myself out of my zone. “Yeah. I just am sick of all of it, you know? The hiding, being scared, or sad, or hurt, or angry. Where the hell does happy come into play?”

  “I really wish I knew.”

  After we got a few blocks away from VIP, we ran into dead-stopped traffic.

  “This is odd.” Cali craned her neck, trying to see what could have caused the traffic jam. “Rush hour is usually over by now.”

  The flashing of lights and the loud roar of sirens came speeding by us on the median. “I guess there is an accident up ahead.”

  Slowly, the car started to creep by a horrific scene of a Mustang wrapped around the traffic light pole. There were paramedics and firemen extracting the driver front the front seat, and he had a collar around his neck.

  I gasped. “I hope that man is okay!”

  “Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the shitty parts of our lives we forget how much worse it really could get.”

  Fourteen

  I slid out of Cali’s passenger seat as the sweet fall air twisted around my body. Even in Florida, fall had a different smell. It was more inviting, more loving, sweeter, and I truly enjoyed it. The muggy heat from the droning summer had finally lifted, and the dampness had started to lesson in the air. Finally, I was able to leave air conditioning without feeling like a wall of water had hit me in the face as the car door swung open.

  I ducked my head back into the car. “Hey, Cali?”

  She turned and sweetly smiled at me. “Yeah?”

  “I could really use some of your awesome fashion tips. Coming in to help me get ready?”

  Cali turned the key in the ignition and nodded. “Of course!”

  We made our way into my dim house, and the cloaking darkness almost suffocated me. I missed Walker so much, and right then, in the darkness, it hit the hardest yet. And then again, guilt was an unwelcome friend. I pushed it to the side, sauntering up the stairs, leaving all the lights off in the house. I slammed the door to my room shut after Cali had followed me in and focused on getting ready, forcing all of my demons to at least wait at the door. All I was asking for was one night and I freaking deserved it.

  Once we were in my room, pulling everything out of my closet that could be deemed formal, the mood started to lighten. Even though our lives were upside down, having each other for love and support always brought us back into a comfortable light conversation that took our mind off the fresh skeletons peering out from our closets.

  “Oh this one is nice!” Cali was holding up a sheer, off-white cocktail dress I had bought with her over a year ago. I’d never even ripped the tags off of it.

  “It is.” I laid it flat on my bed and started to gather the other clothes thrown about to hang them back up in the closet.

  “Mags, your phone.” Cali tossed it to me from off the bed as a text message from Kris awaited me on the illuminated screen:

  Hi, beautiful. I’ll be there soon. Hope you’re ready.

  My heart fluttered a little with giddiness. I knew that Kris usually made me feel like there was a layer of slime covering my body, but I was happy with the sudden mood change. I needed a distraction from all the twists and turns life was forming out of my rocky road.

  Cali flipped my clock radio on to Panic! At The Disco song and started singing like a fool and dancing around my room while I started to get ready.

  “Why do I feel like a teen on prom night?”

  “Is it the music bringing you back to happy times?”

  I laughed for a second at how ridiculous Cali looked while bobbing her head and dancing around like a fool. “Yeah, that, and this text just sent butterflies to attack my stomach.”

  She read my message from Kris and blushed. “Well, you’re going to knock his socks off. You better start getting ready. When is he picking up you?”

  I flipped on my flat iron and pulled the makeup I had in my purse onto my dresser. “In about thirty minutes.”

  “All right then. I am going to duck out before he gets here. By the way, where is the Mercedes?”

  “Oh, Kris and I had to take a cab home last night, so it’s still at The Saloon.”

  “All right. We’ll go get it tomorrow then.” We hugged goodbye, and as Cali went to shut my bedroom door, she whispered, “Just have fun tonight. Love you.”

  “Love you too, goofball!”

  I yanked my hair out of its bun and started to straighten my waves, burning the rebellious mane into a manageable straightened style. On my eyes, I did a dramatic smoky style since it was the only eye makeup I was successful at doing without looking like I was wearing no makeup at all or like I was a five-cent hooker. I yanked my overly revealing, off-white cocktail dress over my head, smoothed it and my hair, applied a light layer of lip gloss, and finished off the look with a pair of candy-apple-red pumps. Looking at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the reflection and I was thrilled.

  Only a few minutes later, my doorbell chimed, making my stomach start into a tizzy. Even before I could open the front door, I could feel my cheeks and chest flushing a hot red. The excitement was thrilling, and such a mood shift felt fantastic. With shaky hands, I gripped the cool metal of my front door’s handle and slowly took a calming breath to ease my racing heart.

  The big wood door lurched open to reveal a true sight for sore eyes. Kris was wearing a tight-fitting, long-sleeved, dark-green button-down, light-brown slacks, and shiny shoes. I couldn’t help being impressed; he sure knew how to clean up nicely. His jawline was clean-shaven and his light hair was tousled perfectly into an on-purpose just-after-sex ’do. But it was his soft expression and kind eyes that were the cool drink of wat
er my parched throat was craving after my grueling trek through the desert of misery.

  His eyelashes fluttered as his eyes wandered over my body. “Hello, beautiful!” His face lit up into a smile as he extended his hand for me to take. “Shall we?”

  I smiled back, taking his hand. “Thanks for this, Kris. I’m excited.”

  He walked me to the passenger’s side door to his car, opening it for me. “You seemed upset last night. Hopefully some good food and halfway decent company can cheer you up.” With a slight wink, he shut the door and jogged around to his side.

  I could not help but take in the sheer beauty of his car. It was a redone Shelby Mustang, and I was in love. My dad had had one that he’d been constantly fixing up when I was a little kid. To see one, in all her glory rumbling and humming, was just amazing.

  “Is it a ’66?” I asked coyly. All I knew was that my father always talked about his ‘baby’ and she apparently was a 1966 Shelby.

  Kris chuckled and shot me a sly smirk as he sped down my street. “Naw, she’s a 1970 Shelby GT500 and I am in love. You know about cars?”

  My cheeks flushed a little from the huskiness in his voice. Apparently he thought a chick who was into cars was sexy, and unfortunately his thrill was going to be short-lived.

  “Nope. My dad had a 1966 piece of shit that he was always working on in the garage.” The taste in my mouth went sour. The memories of my father were not a pleasant trip down memory lane, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat from the lingering silence.

  “Were you and your dad close?”

  I wanted to bite at his words with the harshness of the truth and say that the only time I’d been physically close to my dad was when the back of his hand was colliding with my cheek, and the closest we’d gotten emotionally was when he finally got his ass in gear and walked out that front door. Funny enough, it was the same damn day he’d finished working on his piece-of-shit muscle car. My last memory of my dad—and the most vivid—was the site of his taillights fading in the hot summer heat as he drove straight out of my life, and thank goodness he had.

  “Nope.” I just left it at the harsh-toned one-word answer that shot out of my smoking throat.

  Thankfully, it did not take too much longer for us to pull into a dimly lit parking lot of a restaurant I did not recognize at all.

  “What is this place?” My eyes were locked on the mysterious building through the car window.

  I could hear that Kris was smiling from the tone in his words. “It’s my parents’ restaurant, Casa de Vitali.”

  I shot around to look at Kris with the question lingering on my lips. I knew that his last name was Brennan, but he answered it before I could spit the words out.

  “Vitali is my mom’s maiden name. It was my Popi’s place, and when he died, my parents took the place over. It was interesting for a stubborn Irishman like my father to take over an all Italian kitchen…” He shrugged. “It’s been a success thus far, so I guess it can’t be that bad.”

  We walked through the parking lot that smelled of garlic and rosemary, and the scent billowed from the door as a white-gloved maître d' opened it for me. “Madam.” A short, pudgy Italian man beamed at me from eye level in an immaculate tux. At that moment, my mouth dropped open a little and the restaurant clicked in my head. It was the most profitable and high-end in the entire area. It took months to even get a table reserved next to the bathrooms. I was in complete shock and utterly grateful that Kris had told me to dress the part.

  We were escorted to a back booth, where a bottle of champagne was chilling. We took our seats and the maître d’ walked away without giving us menus.

  I leaned over the table so Kris could hear my whisper. “How am I supposed to order without a menu?”

  His eyes turned up with delight as he filled my flute with bubbly goodness. “I took care of it.”

  Right as he said that, a tall server strode over to the table. He nodded his head at Kris with a stern, almost hateful look on his face. Then he turned to me with a sweet grin. “My dear, may I offer you anything else to go with your champagne?” It shocked me how deep his voice was for such a young-looking, scrawny sack of skin and bones he was.

  I shook my head no. “I am fine. Thank you.”

  He smiled at me and turned to Kris. Again, the look of complete distain washed over his features. “Your salad course will be out shortly, sir.” The last words lingered on the server’s tongue, dripping out coldly before he hurried off.

  Kris reached for his glass and held it up to me. I followed suit and he whispered, “To a nice night with an old friend.”

  His wink at the end of it gave me a strange feeling in my stomach, and once I saw the way that his eyes were glued to my tits, it settled in nice and deep in the bottom of my gut. I decided to just ignore his pig-like behavior and remind myself that he had gone to all this trouble to set this up for us. All in all, this was a pretty impressive first not-date. He was a guy and I have boobs. Usually guys’ eyes were drawn to them, especially in a dress like the one I was wearing.

  I looked around, taking in the elegant white tablecloths with red long-stem roses on every table. All the servers were dressed in white button-downs and bow ties. The dark wood floors were gorgeous, complementing the light blue walls perfectly.

  Kris cleared his throat loudly after taking a gulp from his glass. “So you clean up well, missy.” The smart-ass grin on his face made the sinking feeling return in my stomach, and a sudden urge to deck him was creeping up quickly.

  “Thanks, jerk.” I smiled sweetly at him, cocking my head slightly to the side while I glared at him. Slowly I started to slide to the edge of the booth to make a quick escape from this evening. I could see train lights way off in the distance and I did not want to be around for the wreck. “I don’t think this was a good idea. I’m going to call a cab.”

  He chuckled from the other side of the booth. “Oh come on now. Mags, I was trying to give you a compliment. I just have to say I love your dress, but I enjoyed our time sunbathing in less than bathing suits too.”

  That was it. The straw and this camel’s back was broken. I flew out of the booth as fast as my shaky ankles would work my heels. Quickly, Kris reacted, forcefully grabbing my wrist to make my body twist around. Then I glared into his cold eyes.

  Through gritted teeth and a tightly clenched jaw, a devil’s grin perked up as he said, “You’re going to sit, and we’re going to try this once again. I am trying here. Give me a fucking break, princess.” His voice was even and low with a dangerous edge that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I saw the waiter rushing to our table with the tray of our dinner on his shoulder. I was so glad to see that his mouth was slightly open and his gaze was locked on my burning skin under Kris’s clenched fist.

  Not wanting to make a huge scene and really make Kris’s temper fly, I nodded at my enraged host and started to take my seat on the other side of the table.

  The waiter set out our food without making eye contact with either of us. I had a feeling that his job would be on the line if he tried to help me. I reached into my bag as nonchalantly as I could. Unfortunately, my attempt to text Cali or Mitch for help was noticed.

  I could feel the heat radiating in Kris’s anger at this entire situation as he seethed in a low growl, “Put you’re damn phone away, Mags.” He took a huge breath in, holding it for a moment. His chest puffed out, and then he calmly released the hot air across the table. “I’m sorry. I have a temper sometimes. I’m nervous. One more chance?”

  I just sat staring at this pathetic excuse for a man sitting across from me, my jaw unhinged, trying to make sense of this entire evening. “Kris, how many chances am I supposed to give you? We don’t even know each other.”

  I knew my discomfort had melted into my words and my expression, but at this point, I wanted Kris to know how much of a douche he was coming across as. There really was no way to salvage this evening or friendship. His gaze dropped to his plate, where he
pushed the limp spaghetti around on his untouched plate. I could see the anger twisting into embarrassment, and damn it, I felt bad for the guy.

  “We’ll finish our dinner and then you’ll take me straight home. Got it?”

  His eyes shot up from his plate. A little twinkle of hope collided with my least favorite look of Kris’s—lust. I knew that giving in was not the best decision I had made, but there was just something in me making me feel like I was safe no matter what. It was the strangest feeling that I could not put my finger on. I almost felt like I was being watched, but not in a creepy, stalker watching-me-undress type of way. More like I had a guardian angel lurking in the room.

  For the next twenty minutes, Kris did all the talking, his eyes glued on my every move. He rambled on and on about hating working as an assistant manager at his family’s gorgeous restaurant, calling his employees “pieces of worthless dog shit.” At those words, I tuned his droning out completely, letting my eyes wander around the dimly lit dining room. There were couples and larger groups smiling and carrying on, having a wonderful time. I was completely envious. I kept telling myself that this date—or lack thereof—would eventually come to an end and I would be alone, curled up in my bed.

  Once I was able to force down half of my sautéed eggplant and goat cheese—which was delicious, so I hated Kris even more for ruining my appetite and my ability to enjoy this amazing masterpiece of a meal—the annoying drones spilling from Kris’s lips finally ceased, making my eyes shoot up and lock with his. Finally, he was done.

  His brow rose at me like he was waiting for me to answer a question, which I obviously had pushed out of my conscience, so I shrugged. “Sorry. What was that last bit?” I tried to play it off with a slightly flirtatious, overly innocent grin, and thankfully, he bought it.