by Cate Remy
She stepped away from the window and picked up her phone to check the time. It was a quarter past one in the morning.
She heard a car door open and shut outside. She went to the window again and looked out to see Cy’s car in the driveway. He approached the steps to the front porch.
She unlocked the door to her room and flipped the light on in the hallway. It was clear. She shot down the stairs and went to unlock the front door.
“Dahlia, I told you not to unlock your bedroom door.”
“How else was I supposed to let you in?”
“I was going to call you after I checked your property to make sure it was clear.” He held his hand out to keep her from coming out of the house any further. He stepped inside and walked through the kitchen before climbing the stairs. She heard the door to the guest room open and close before he came down. “There’s no one else inside your house. Wait here.”
She lingered in the doorway while he went around to the side of the house. The draft from the front door sent chills she could feel through her pajamas. She shivered, both from the cold and the fact her alarm went off with apparently no one or nothing to trigger it.
Cy reappeared at the door. “All clear outside, too.”
She made room for him to step inside. He closed the door after him. He cast a look at the bat in her hands. “Is that from when you were on the softball team during junior year?”
“I thought it might come in handy one day. Was I wrong?”
“Good thinking. I got in touch with night patrol. He drove up the road to the gas station and got a flat. Said he found a couple nails in his tire.”
“Did he run over them?”
“I found these along the curb.” Cy reached into his pocket and withdrew three nails. “Were your neighbors doing construction work today?”
“No. It’s been quiet here.”
“Somebody either dropped these or put them there, because they weren’t by the curb when I took you home yesterday or I would have gotten a flat tire.”
She put the bat down and took one of the nails from his hand. The tip gleaned sharp in the light. “Somebody could have left them there on purpose. This is crazy.”
Sirens wailed up the road. The police were on their way.
Within a minute, two cruisers pulled up to her driveway. One officer came inside while the other canvassed her property as Cy had done a few minutes ago.
“Did you see or hear anything suspicious after your alarm went off?” asked the officer. “Footsteps or glass breaking?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t hear anything.”
The second officer the house. “Everything looks good outside. No signs of break-in.”
It should have been good news, but the uncertainty left Dahlia nervous. “Why did my alarm go off?”
“Anything could have triggered it. The wind, a neighbor’s cat. We get calls like this often.”
Cy showed them the nails. “I’m with Iron Guard Security. She’s my client. I found these along the curb. They caused one of my night patrol guys to get a flat tire.”
The officers looked at the nails and shrugged. “Someone could have dropped them there.”
“ On purpose, you think?”
“It’s hard to say. If there were signs of break-in, maybe, but we can’t find anything.”
The police did one last check inside and outside the house before they left. Dahlia watched their cruisers get swallowed up by the night when they headed up the road. She drew her shoulders up and forced them down on a loud exhale. “The cops don’t think it’s anything, but something triggered my alarm. The night patrol got a flat tire and then you found nails on the curb. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”
“This isn’t enough evidence for the police to go looking for someone.”
“I know that. I’m just wondering if it was something harmless that set off my alarm or someone did it on purpose. And if it was on purpose, who was it? Kids pulling pranks late at night? The person who threw the brick in my window before?”
“I don’t know. I hate not having an answer for you.”
Dahlia rubbed her arms. She turned the heat down earlier and now truly felt the chill in the house. “I don’t want to stay here alone tonight. I’m going to pack my stuff and check into a hotel.”
“I can stay here. Your house is closer to the news studio, anyway.”
“I don’t want to ask you to do that for me.”
“You’re not asking. It was my idea.”
Her breathing slowed and she felt her body start to calm down. “I have a guest room. I’ll run and get sheets and towels.”
“Don’t go through all that trouble. I’ll be down here on the couch.” He pressed a button on his car key fob. “I just have to get my bag with a change of clothes from my car.”
A twinge of guilt went through her. “Sorry to have to make you deploy your emergency kit.”
“Dahlia, stop apologizing,” he said, on his way to her door. “You have to get up in a few hours. Go back upstairs and get some sleep.”
“Easier said than done.” Her nerves were jumpy enough to launch her into next Tuesday. Dahlia figured it would be a while before she became drowsy again. At least with Cy here, she didn’t have to worry about an intruder again. She went upstairs and back to her bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
Dahlia woke up with a startle when another alarm went off. Recognizing that it was just her daily alarm clock, rather than the burglar system, she calmed down. She hit a button to turn it off. Aside from the moonlight drifting in through the curtains, it was very dark in the room. Cyrus was right. Talk about dark-thirty.
She went into the bathroom to shower. She wondered how Cyrus spent the rest of the night downstairs on her sofa.
She finished showering and got dressed in the outfit she picked out to wear for today. She wanted to take her time to make sure she looked her absolute best for the camera, but she didn’t have time to linger in front of the mirror. She had to beat early morning traffic and get down to the studio in time.
She took her hair down from the double braids she pinned to sleep in and fluffed it out with a comb to bring out the curl pattern. Then she used makeup from her new line, making sure to put a bold color on her lips so people would notice it when she spoke on camera. Once that was done, she began her trek down the stairs.
Dahlia thought she heard water running in the guest bathroom. Cy was up. The coffee maker beeped in the kitchen.
She walked into the living room where the television was on one of the national news channels. The room didn’t even look like Cy spent the night in it. The throws for the sofa were neatly folded and stacked in the basket beside it. Everything had been straightened out on the coffee table. His duffle bag sat underneath the table. She was pretty sure she left this room messy and he cleaned it up for her. She supposed that was the new role he played in her life now. Fixing the messes she made or those someone else created for her.
She turned on her heel to go into the kitchen. Just as she did, Cy came from around the corner, wearing jeans and a pack of washboard abs. He stopped in mid-stride. “Hey, I didn’t know you were down here. I forgot my sweater in my bag.”
She darted out of his way and tried to casually avert her gaze from his muscled upper body. His hair was damp from the shower. Those years of training in the military had definitely been good to him.
“You look nice in that dress,” he stated, before he pulled a sweater over his head.
She had to look down to remember what she chose to wear that day. “Thank you. I hope it looks good on camera.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “We have to be going soon, don’t we?”
The news channel made a chiming noise and the words Breaking News flashed across the screen. The camera cut from the anchorwoman’s face to show footage of a man being escorted from a downtown Atlanta hotel by police.
The anchorwoman’s voice filled the speakers. “We’re n
ow learning that Trey Marsters, former husband of deceased film actor Mary Marsters, was arrested this morning on counts of tax evasion. Sources say he left the country for three years to avoid detection by federal government tax agents.”
Dahlia shot a glance at Cy. “Are you hearing this?”
He watched the screen. “That explains why Trey hasn’t been in the States. He was trying to hide his money. He probably thought he could come back for his ex-wife’s memorial service and it would all blow over.”
Dahlia watched the footage of Trey getting into a police car to be taken to the station. “I still can’t get over how much he walks like the guy in the mask.”
“You still think he was the man you saw at her house?”
“I wish I knew for sure.”
“He’s going to be behind bars now.”
She spoke the words he wouldn’t say. “But if it’s not him, we still don’t know who’s been sending me threats.” She turned off the TV. “I have to get going. You can have the coffee. I’m too nervous to drink any.”
She left him to finish getting dressed. Upstairs, she checked her makeup bag one last time to make sure she had everything she needed.
Five minutes later, Cy had his coffee and they were in his car, ready to go. For the whole trip to the studio, Dahlia kept her fingers crossed in the hopes that last night’s scare with the alarm wasn’t a bad omen. She wanted to think it was all over because Trey had gotten arrested, but she still had an unsettling feeling in the pit of her chest.
They reached the studio parking lot and an attendant directed them to park in one of the spaces reserved for guests on the show. Dahlia unbuckled her seatbelt. “Here we go.”
Cy reached out his hand towards her. She thought he was reaching for something else at first, maybe something in the sun visor above her head. Instead, he touched her cheek. “Hey, it’s all going to be fine. Put everything else out of your mind except for what you’re about to do when you walk through those studio doors.”
Even him touching her cheek? He took his hand down but she still felt the lingering essence of his touch. As she got out of the car, she didn’t think she was going to forget about that anytime soon.
CY BREATHED A SIGH of relief when he and Dahlia got inside the studio and the set attendants took her to get ready to go on set. He got her where she needed to be in the nick of time.
“Are you coming on stage, too?” one of the attendees asked.
“No. I’m... just her assistant.”
“Let me get you a pass so you can have a seat on a front row.”
A short time later, he found himself seated in a small audience, watching a live segment being taped. The segment was about cooking fast thirty minute winter soups. His stomach grumbled as he smelled the savory broth. He hoped it wasn’t loud enough to get picked up by the microphone hanging over his head. He wished he and Dahlia had a chance to eat breakfast that morning.
Everything about last night and this morning was unexpected. He still wasn’t completely sold on the notion that her burglar alarm system went off for no reason. Maybe somebody down at the firm could tell him more about the nails he found near her driveway. If only her alarm system had a camera. Then they would know who dropped the nails along the curb.
The news show host wrapped up the segment. “Great job, Jim, for showing us how to make soup when we’re in a hurry. Next up, one of today’s hottest social media influencers is here to tell us about her new makeup line geared for diverse skin tones. Stay tuned after these messages.” The host kept on a wide smile until the cameras cut to commercial.
Cy sat up in his seat. Dahlia was next. Today was such an important time for her. He could tell how hard she worked get to this point. He wanted everything to go well. He looked on as set crew cleared out tables and cooking utensils to make way for makeup chairs and display tables that featured Dahlia’s makeup line.
The audience chattered on for a little bit before the lights blinked to indicate that the show returned from commercial. They quieted down as the host came back on set with Dahlia.
“We’re back with our next guest Dahlia Dean. If you’re young and trendy, you probably know her online as Dahlia Doll, one of the most popular new makeup artists in social media. She actually got her idea to launch a line doing tutorials for fun when she finished her day job at the salon. Everyone, please welcome Dahlia Dean.”
Cy applauded along with the audience. Dahlia smiled and it made her whole face take on a glow. She looked so pretty on stage with the lights on her thick, curly hair and flawless brown skin. It took on a bronze gleam.
Her eyes roamed the audience. For a second, they met his in the front row. She gave a smile meant just for him before turning to the host. “Thanks for welcoming me, Sandy. I’m glad to be here.”
“Tell us about your new makeup line.”
“I got the idea when I went into a makeup store and had trouble finding colors that would flatter my skin tone.”
Cy listened to her tell her story and also watched the audience’s reaction. Other women nodded their heads as Dahlia described her experiences at the makeup counter.
“Makeup isn’t mandatory. It’s something that can be creative and fun. I know it’s not rocket science. We makeup artists are not out there saving the world, but if finding the perfect shade of lipstick or foundation to match a woman’s skin helps her to feel a little better about her day, then why not be happy about it? I want my makeup to be fun and approachable, not intimidating. Anyone can use my line.”
Cy thought Dahlia was doing great. However, he went over her words, especially the part about makeup artists not out to save the world. Why did those words sound familiar?
Then he remembered. Before he left to go to boot camp, he said those very same words to Dahlia in a fight. Only at the time, he said then to belittle her interest in what she wanted to do. Over the years, she took what he said and turned it into something positive.
Geez, I was obnoxious. Jeff showed more maturity than I did in my teens. Cy shook his head at himself. No wonder Dahlia got into a fight with him over the dumb things he said. He motioned his head again. Then he remembered he could be on camera and refrained from making more movements and expressions.
Dahlia showed the host and the audience two of her makeup palettes before she demonstrated on a model how to use them. The segment wrapped up a few minutes later.
“Dahlia’s new makeup line launches in stores officially today.” The host paused to build anticipation from the audience. “To celebrate, all of you are getting a free eyeshadow palette to take home.”
The audience whooped and cheered before the cameras cut to commercial again. Cy got up and left. Someone from the set crew recognized him and motioned for him to come to the back of the set where he could wait on Dahlia.
She came out with a big smile on her face. He loved seeing her that way. “You did great out there.”
She spread her arms and before he knew it, threw them around his neck. “I was so nervous. I thought I was going to trip over every word, not to mention my feet.”
His stomach did a funny dance as he returned her hug. She felt good in his arms, soft and warm. He hated when the moment ended. “If you were nervous, I couldn’t tell and I don’t think anyone else could, either.”
“You’re just being sweet again. Let me get my stuff so we could head to the office.”
“Dahlia, there’s something I need to say to you.”
“Hold your thought. I just need to get my stuff.”
Cy waited for her to return with her makeup bag and purse. The set crew waved their goodbyes before pointing her and Cy in the right direction towards the exit. The sun was up in the sky once they went outside and got in his car.
Dahlia closed the passenger side door. “Now what did you want to say?”
“On second thought, it can wait until later.” He didn’t want to burden her with stuff from the past when she was having a great day.
“I want t
o hear it. Tell me or it’ll just be on my mind all day.”
“Persistent, aren’t you?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“You have a lot of it.”
“What, charm or persistence?”
“Both.” He began to tell her what was on his mind. “I wasn’t the brightest bulb when we were eighteen.”
She blinked twice. “Come again?”
He wasn’t making sense. He gathered his thoughts. “We argued before I left to join the Army. I criticized you for wanting to be a makeup artist.”
“It’s no longer a big deal. That was ten years ago.” She was quick to dismiss the memory, even though he could see the look she gave before she fastened her seatbelt.
He felt uncomfortable, too. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring up something that happened at a time when they were barely adults. But something within pressed him to go on. “Please let me finish. I was dumb to say that about your dream. I was selfish and thought you would be impressed to hear I enlisted.”
She faced him in slow motion. “Cy, I was shocked. If we’re being honest, you made it sound like you wanted me to wait for you.”
She cut right to the heart of it. He got nervous admitting the truth. “A part of me did. We were getting very close.”
Her chest went up and down when she exhaled. “We hadn’t dated that long at the time, but you never said anything to me about joining the military. I felt blindsided. You just ran off and did it, and you expected me to let go of what I wanted to do and be happy about it.”
He felt bad for causing her pain and confusion years ago. “I was naïve, and I was wrong. I wanted to make my grandfather happy before he died because he was a vet.” This was the first time he told anyone specifically why he joined the Army. He never shared that with other people, not even his parents.
Dahlia’s gaze was searching. He felt like she was peering at him with a microscope. “You did a good thing to honor your grandfather. That’s what counts.”
Cy saw the parking lot attendant wave frantically. What was going on? He rolled down the window. “Yes?”
