by Lola StVil
“Well…”
“Luis.”
“Okay, she gave me a heavier coat but it’s hard to move around in it. I gotta be free, man,” he says, sounding more like an old hippie than a nine-year-old.
“I know it’s been nice out lately, but it’s October in New York. You know better.”
“Okay, I’ll put on the jacket my mom gave me,” he says reluctantly. I can’t help but squeal with excitement. When a foster kid gets officially adopted, that means they have a permanent house to live in. But when they call their foster partners “Mom” and “Dad,” that means they have a home. And Luis was so worried that his foster parents were going to change their mind about adopting, he wouldn’t even consider calling them that. But it’s a year later and he’s finally comfortable saying “Mom.”
“Ms. Bennett, stop,” he says, blushing. He knows exactly why I’m partially jumping up and down.
“Sorry,” I reply, trying to suppress my glee. “I almost forgot,” I say as I reach into the second cup holder in my car and hand him the cup of chocolate I got for him at Starbucks.
“Thanks, Ms. Bennett,” he says as he walks me to the front of the center.
“You’re welcome. Luis, did you see Carlos?”
“Yeah, he came by last night.”
“Did you tell him I need to see him?”
“Yeah, he said he’s really busy.”
“Too busy for the center?”
“Yeah,” he says as his eyes fill with worry. I kneel down so that Luis and I are at eye level.
“What’s going on with Carlos and his new friends?” I ask.
“They want him to drop out of school and hang with them. He said they can give him a job and hook him up. He said he’ll give me some of his money, but I don’t think I want it,” he says sadly.
“When is the next time you’ll see him Carlos?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I need you to come to my office with me and give me a list of some of the places Carlos hangs out. I need to talk to him. I tried calling but it just goes to voicemail.”
“Okay. He won’t be mad at me for talking to you, right?”
“No, I’m sure he won’t. Let’s go. And then go home and get the heavier jacket your mom told you to wear, okay?”
“Okay. Ms. Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“Will my brother ever find a home like I did?”
I place his little face between my hands and look into his warm eyes. “Your brother is going to find a home. It’s just gonna take time. But don’t worry. He’ll find a home.”
God, please don’t let me be a liar today…
***
I collect the information Luis gives me, and the rest of the day passes by in a blur of meetings, classes, and paperwork. I’m so caught up in work, when Jana enters my office, I don’t even hear her come in.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
“For what?” I ask, glued to the budget sheet I’m looking over.
“Are you serious? The Halloween party.”
Crap. Every year we join up with other outreach programs and throw a party for the staff and their guests. Normally it’s a holiday party, but this year, the person in charge is Jana and she wanted to do it on Halloween instead. Since the space was booked up on the actual night of Halloween, we are doing it a week ahead.
“It completely slipped my mind.”
“How is that possible? I’ve been planning this for weeks,” she reminds me.
“I know. I guess I had a lot of things on my mind. Sorry.”
“Did you call him?” she asks as she takes a seat in front of the desk.
“No.”
“What? Even after that message he left you? What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Winter, he’s not Danny. Just because Danny did you wrong doesn’t mean the next guy will too.”
“I know that.”
“Then what the hell? Call Mr. Hotness and put it on him. You haven’t had sex in a year. That’s illegal in some countries.”
“What country?”
“United States of Jana,” she jokes as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. I roll my eyes and go back to the work before me.
“Sweetie, I get that’s it’s hard but it’s unhealthy to lock yourself up like that. Think about calling him. You don’t have to say yes to going out. Just agree to have a simple conversation. Damn,” she says.
“Why is this so important to you, Jana?”
“I miss my friend.”
“I’m right here.”
“No, you’re off in lala land. Living the life of a ninety-year-old woman. TV and warm tea. In fact, I know a few grannys that have better love lives than you do.”
“Fine, I’ll go to the party.”
“Yes, you will. You have two hours before the party; you will go and get a slutty outfit that will make me proud,” she says, running out before I change my mind.
***
I don’t know how I let the party slip out of my mind. Maybe it’s because the weather has been so mild up until now, it didn’t feel like fall. Or maybe I am putting so much thought into not thinking about a certain guy that everything else takes a back seat. I should have noticed much sooner that Carlos was missing after-school class. I should have remembered this party, and I should have checked back in with my sister. I am determined to get things back on track.
I text my sister and make plans with her for girl’s night. I then find my sluttiest costume from a few years back—a sexy bunny—and put it on. It’s a strapless, pink sequined body-hugging romper with a white bunny tail and lace-up back. I complete the outfit with the bunny-ear headband. I want Jana to be proud.
I enter the bar where the party is being held. It’s packed. Jana did a great job with the decorations and the food. Everyone is in costume and having fun. I try to catch her eye through the large crowd but she can’t see me. I make my way towards her as I greet my staff. I finally find her and pull her in close.
“You totally nailed this, Jana!”
“Thanks! I’m so glad you came. I thought you were gonna flake out,” she shouts above the music.
“Not a chance. I know how hard you’ve worked, and given the budget, you did a really nice job.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it. Now, I have something to tell you but I need you to promise not to be mad.”
“Oh no! You didn’t set me up on a date, did you? Please tell me you didn’t!” I reply, knowing full well that stuff is right up her alley.
“No, I didn’t set you up on a blind date,” she assures me.
“Phew, okay. Good.”
“I did, however, invite a certain someone—on the off chance you might show up,” she says as she signals towards the entrance.
Wyatt…
Ten minutes earlier
I sit in the parking lot of the bar where the Halloween party is being held. I have yet to go inside. But the fact that I’m at a place where grown-ass people dress in costume tells me I’ve got it so bad for the woman, I’m way past the danger zone. Winter said she wasn’t interested. That should be enough. And normally it is, but this situation is anything but normal.
I think Winter wants me. That shit is not ego. I’m a detective, and any detective worth a damn can tell when someone is turned on. And even if I didn’t have the job I do, as a man I know when a woman is excited. I’ve watched her body react to mine in a way that partially spells out arousal. When we were in the basement of the community center, I could see her pupils dilating, she was breathing rapidly, and she moistened her lips while slightly arching her back.
When we were in the parking lot later that day and she said she didn’t want to see where things could go with the two of us, I will admit, that shit threw me. I thought she was playing a game. I fucking hate games. I hate people who play them and people who go along with them. That shit is not me. If I want a woman, I tell her. She takes it or leaves it. She u
sually takes it. And once in a while she won’t. Fine.
Standing in the parking lot, hearing her tell me she’s tried dating and that she’s unwilling to try again, I realized she wasn’t playing any games. She wasn’t saying “no” to see how long it would take for me to be on bended knee like some dumb bastard in a chick flick. This woman was genuinely scared that she might like me. I mean, seriously terrified.
A part of me thinks I should leave her alone and let some other guy come and try to break her out of her self-imposed prison. But then the thought of that other guy holding her makes me want to rip his fucking arms off. She’s mine.
There’s no one else like her. She’s nuts but smart as hell. She’s impulsive enough to jump into a dumpster but selfless enough to dedicate her entire career to children. Unlike a lot of women I’ve met, she doesn’t go out of her way to try to be sexy, she just is. I’d get a bigger thrill seeing her exposed shoulder than I would seeing most women naked.
Good, so get the hell out of the truck and go get her.
It’s not that simple. This woman is working really hard to run from what this could be. She might not even let me in. And if by some chance I got in and we started going out, what then? I’ve never been one for relationships. I’ve been upfront with the women in my past about that. My focus is work. I won’t lie to them and say I see a future, when I don’t. But something tells me I won’t have that conversation with Winter. I want to know her—in all the ways I’ve never cared to explore another woman before.
I stayed away from her although it took all the willpower I had. I ended up parked in front of her door more nights than I care to say out loud. I just wanted to make sure she got home okay. I wanted to see her face and know that she was alive. And in a crazy way, knowing she existed meant that there was light somewhere in this godforsaken world.
I know she got my calls. I know she thinks I wanted to talk to her, and I did. But I also knew she wasn’t done trying to run from us. And that the only way I could get some kind of relief from the agony of staying away from her was to listen to her voice on the voicemail.
“Hi! It’s Winter. Leave a message and I’ll do my best to call you back, if my rigorous Netflix queue allows. Enjoy your day!”
The last time I called, I ended up leaving a message. I hadn’t planned on it but shit, I missed her to the point where it was leave a message or go over there in person and break down her door. I want to know all about her life. I want to know why she’s so afraid to date or even entertain a conversation with me. But on the other hand, that might mean hearing about her past boyfriends, and that’s not something I want to do.
Jana asked for my number before I left the school a few days back. I looked at her as if she was out of her mind but she quickly explained that she was on my side and wanted to get Winter out of the house and back into the dating scene. Jana is wild as hell, but I could tell by her tone she was sincerely trying to help her friend.
I gave her my info and my address—she insisted on the address because she said she wanted to make sure I didn’t have a live-in girlfriend somewhere. She noted that if she had my address, I’d forever live in fear that she’d pop in and bust me. That chick is all kinds of crazy, but I love that she cares enough about Winter to threaten a cop.
When she called me and invited me to the party, I didn’t hesitate, because by then, my desire to engage Winter had outgrown all reason and logic. A few days ago, my partner, Decker, and I were on a stakeout and after a long pause in conversation, he’d shouted, “For Christ’s sake, go see her already!” According to him even my silences were screaming “Winter.” And now, I’m here in the damn parking lot, fearing that coming to see her here might push her even further away.
I get out of the truck and head inside the bar; I see her before she sees me. She’s wearing the sexiest bunny costume I’ve ever seen. I don’t like it. Well, actually I do like it; I like that shit—a lot. But I know how guys are and I know the vile things they are thinking. I want to cover her up. I don’t want them eye fucking my girl.
My girl…you two have barely had a conversation.
I let my issue with the costume drop when I see her look around the room and smile at Jana. Damn that smile of hers. It makes it all the way across the room, over to the entrance where I am. I’m not sure how I missed her entering the bar but then I spot a second entrance over on the other side. I’m hoping she’ll see me and fight the urge to flee. That was the whole point of giving her some space, give her time to get used to the idea she’s wanted by a guy who isn’t out to hurt her.
I am about to make my way towards her but before I do, our eyes meet. Okay, this is the moment. She can stay and talk to me or she can give in to her fear and try to hide from me. I make it halfway across the room and so far she’s not running for the door.
This is it, Winnie, you got this.
I make my way to her and I’m relieved to find her still there, standing near the snacks. God, she’s working so hard to fight her desire to run. I can see it in her eyes. She’s like a kid in the middle of a storm, scared to death that the wind will sweep her up and away. I’d like to be her shelter, but I can’t if she doesn’t let me. I know it’s best if I am just casual with her, but fuck it. I pull her into me and hold her. Shit, this feels good. Holding her against me makes everything in my life right as fucking rain.
What is this woman doing to me?
It takes a few seconds, but eventually, she allows herself to hug me back. She lingers. I want more. She wants more. So naturally, she pulls away.
Argh!
“I called,” I tell her as if she didn’t already know.
“I’ve been busy. Work,” she says, trying to avoid my eyes.
Hell no, I want to see those babies. They are my favorite pair of eyes. The grey is so subtle yet so intense. The compassion and generosity that embodies her is reflected in those eyes and I can’t bear the thought of her pulling them away from me. So when she does, I follow her gaze so that I won’t lose her eyes: my light.
“So, Jana invited you?” she says.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“No…” she mumbles before she can catch herself.
“Oh…okay,” I reply.
“Oh no, I meant, it’s fine that she did. It’s more than fine,” she insists.
“That’s not what you actually said. You said ‘no’ as in ‘no, it’s not okay that you are here.”
“It’s not okay but that’s only because I’ve been…”
“Avoiding me?”
“Yeah,” she says, deflated. She’s so fucking cute when she’s silently scolding herself for no reason.
“Winter, let’s just start over, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just some guy who came to a Halloween party, with no costume, in hopes of meeting someone nice,” I offer.
“Yeah, that sounds simple,” she says, taking a deep breath.
“It is. And I enter the room, looking for that nice person. Oh, what do you know, I found a nice woman only a few feet away. If I ask her for a drink, I hope she says yes,” I reply as I get lost in her eyes.
“Yes, I’ll have a drink with you. I just need to go to the ladies’ room and I’ll be right back,” she says.
“I’ll be right here,” I assure her.
The most important thing I learned in all my years of training is to trust my gut—no matter what. It’s saved my life more than a few times. And when I watch Winter and her sexy gleaming pink getup walk away from me, my gut tells me something is off.
I play out my hunch. I order two beers, grab a fistful of junk food from the bar, and race out of the exit door that leads to the back of the bar.
I find her car a few yards from the lot. I place the snacks on the roof of the car, hold the beers in my hand, and wait. And sure enough, a few minutes later, I see a sexy pink bunny scurry out of the bar and make a run for her getaway car.
The lamppost she’s parked under in fair
ly dim, so at first she doesn’t see me leaning on the front of her car with the beers in my hand. But once she gets close enough, she stops dead in her tracks. I hold both beers out and give her a choice:
“So, what’ll it be, babe? Light or regular?”
I hate him. I hate that he knows what I’m gonna do even before I do. And I hate that seeing him standing there brings me joy and dread all at once. Fuck! It’s one thing for him to catch me trying to sneak out, it’s another for him to be leaning on my car with a cocky, sexy smirk. I’m at a loss for words for several moments. He hands me my choice of beers. I take the light one and stand next to him over by the car.
“How did you know?” I ask as I bring the bottle to my lips.
“Gut feeling.”
“Well, congratulations,” I reply.
“Thank you, what do I win?”
“What do you want?” I ask. I know that’s a bad question, but it’s too late to take it back.
“You know what I want,” he says suggestively.
“Look, I am not—”
“Talk,” he says quickly.
“What?”
“My prize for busting you and for saving your life—and yes, I’m throwing that in too—is that we have a conversation.”
“Fine, about what?”
“Babe, anything. I want to know you. Is that so bad?”
“Not on the surface, no,” I mumble.
“Let me guess, you were involved with some guy and things were awful. Now you hate any and all men. Is that it?” he asks.
“Something like that.”
“Well, you can put your hatred of men aside for a few minutes—don’t worry, it will keep.”
“I don’t hate men.”
He looks at me with disbelief in his eyes.
“I don’t,” I reply.
“Let’s hope not,” he mumbles to himself as he reaches onto the roof of my car and displays his handful of treats. And right away I spot my favorite seasonal candy, Candy Corn.
